Welcome, friends, to my brain.
I think when people like Sexton Burke write books like The Writer's Lab, they have certain expectations. "If I write this clever book full of writing prompts, readers will be inspired and they will create some interesting things."
But I highly doubt that anyone, clever or not, is capable of anticipating what readers come up with. Namely, my response to the first prompt.
The prompt in The Writer's Lab I chose to begin with was simple. Your name's letters rearranged into a new name: the name of your new character that you then have to describe and eventually write a scene about.
Being a visual thinker, I had to physically rearrange my letters. I came up with something awesome.
Mad Craoll Rewnma. I pronounce it in my mind as CRAWL RUNE-ma. It uses every letter in my first and last name. And lo, it even came with a title. "Mad." Oh yes, I can work with this.
So I did. Here is what I came up with.
"Mad" Craoll Rewnma began life as a street urchin. That's about it. Not even she knew-- or cared-- where she came from. She started rough and finished rough. Long dead by a century now, Rewnma was well known in her time for having a penchant for thievery and occasionally dabbling in homicide. That was how it started. With her tangled mane of dark hair and freckled golden eyes, she was the picture of madness even before her defining adventure gave her the title "Mad". Like a jungle cat, she slunk around museums and scholarly establishments for the better part of 20 years, aging none. Then one day, she did it. Breaking into the Twixt, the realm between the living and the dead, is said to be impossible. Except for Rewnma. No one's sure how she did it, or for that matter, why. Some speculated that she wanted to find the lost souls of those she killed, just to "check up on them," because that was her style. Some thought she just wanted to prove that she was the sneakiest thief ever to set foot on the Three Lands. She baffled every prophet, bishop, sorcerer, and king.
But as I floated into the Twixt, a bodiless soul myself, I found her. She was cutting away the souls that formed the walls and structures in the chaotic realm. I addressed her. Why was she doing this? Why was she setting the souls free of their containment? I thought you killed people, Mad Rewnma, not set their captured souls free!
In reply, she grinned and said simply, "I don't relish taking away life, or giving it for that matter. I found that killing had lost its fun. I'm on to better things. You see, I'm really just in the business of mucking things up."
The souls floated away from us in silence, though their mouths were ajar in soundless screams. They faded out of the Twixt.
And that, my friends, is how the Undead War of the Three Lands came to be. One woman. One madwoman. Mad Craoll Rewnma.
But as I floated into the Twixt, a bodiless soul myself, I found her. She was cutting away the souls that formed the walls and structures in the chaotic realm. I addressed her. Why was she doing this? Why was she setting the souls free of their containment? I thought you killed people, Mad Rewnma, not set their captured souls free!
In reply, she grinned and said simply, "I don't relish taking away life, or giving it for that matter. I found that killing had lost its fun. I'm on to better things. You see, I'm really just in the business of mucking things up."
The souls floated away from us in silence, though their mouths were ajar in soundless screams. They faded out of the Twixt.
And that, my friends, is how the Undead War of the Three Lands came to be. One woman. One madwoman. Mad Craoll Rewnma.
Alright, Sexton Burke, if you're reading this, I hope you're happy. My brain clamped over that prompt, tore it to shreds, and buried the remains in the backyard. Somehow I've created worlds, realms, thieves, and zombie outbreaks from one simple exercise.
The brain is a marvelous creature, is it not?
The brain is a marvelous creature, is it not?
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