I came across this article today by Dr. Russell D. Moore: “Why Christians Should Read Fiction.” I could not get the article to re-post onto WordPress, so I’m just sharing the link to the post on his own website.
http://www.russellmoore.com/2013/03/25/why-christians-should-read-fiction/#comment-289374
This week I sent Terry Valley, the artist who created “The Green Planet,” the link our stories based on his artwork. He was thrilled with them and, since he also writes, he was inspired by our stories to write one of his own. I’ve included his personal letter in this post because he expresses his sincere thanks to everyone who took the time to create a story from his picture. So here is his letter, followed by his own story.
“Thank you so much for alerting me to your writing challenge. I read every one of the entries and enjoyed every one of them. I was also floored by the creativity of each one. WOW! Our infinite God has created an endless variety of unique individuals that reflect his own infinite resources and aspects of personality. I was so impressed by the stories and the individuals. They all sound like people you would like to meet in person. Failing that, what a wonderful opportunity blogs present for getting to know all the variety of people.
“You know, I had forgotten that I even sent you that picture. I am so glad you alerted me to how you were using it and the writing challenge. It is very satisfying and thrilling to see such good use made of it and how the picture inspired people to be creative themselves. Here is some background about my own process in creating the picture (although it was done some time ago, during my drawing phase, so my memory is not the sharpest on details.)
“I had only vague ideas of what I wanted to create; making a planet was one of the main ones. I love drawing planets; the opportunities for wide-open creativity are many, since you are not restricted to what is known about this planet on which we live.
“But I also am fascinated by mushrooms, so it was only natural to join the two, planets and mushrooms, together. I had seen a photograph or drawing (can’t remember which) of a mushroom group like the blue ones in my picture, and they were so haunting with their semi-transparencies,
like they were part of two worlds or in between two dimensions or worlds, that it seemed only natural to set them in such a space picture of other worlds.
“Then there was the matter of the disintegration of the planet. That wasn’t planned, as I recall; it came about because of an error in drawing the rings. I used a mechanical program to help me do that but had trouble matching the angles etc. to the planet. I noticed that the outer edge on one side was flaring away and did not match the ring angles on the other side of the planet. What to do? Well, what if the planet was disintegrating? That would explain the discrepancy. Voila!
“The planet is disintegrating; that is why the rings mismatch on opposite sides of the planets. Why let a mistake, if it could be called that rather than a creative happenstance, ruin an otherwise good idea? Rather, turn it into an opportunity for greater creativity. In fact, that is what I did. Then I thought, OK, the place is falling apart; how can other parts of the picture emphasize that fact and make it more interesting?
“In that regard, your story is one example of how your creativity was sparked by someone else’s (in this case, mine). You see, you said that the person on the rope was descending. When I was making the picture, to me, that person was ascending, going up to join the other person on top of the mushroom. Funny how two people see exactly the opposite thing in the same picture. Hmm. Maybe like evolutionists and creationists looking at the world — or a hundred other examples.
“Anyway, it wasn’t just you. When I read all those stories, I was amazed at all the things that the authors found or at least got ideas for some aspect of their story that I had never even considered. I was just drawing a picture that grew and changed in my mind, just like they were constructing a picture-story in theirs. I am a writer as well as an artist, so I know how both work. They are similar in that regard.
“Speaking of writing, I guess maybe I should try my own hand at a story for the picture. I haven’t written fiction in a long time. I have been concentrating instead on spiritual blogs in a Christian community of bloggers. Maybe it’s time to refresh my spirit in this other avenue again.
“A final comment about the picture. Originally, I entitled it “LOOK!”. I had none of the broader perspectives that your writing challenge authors came up. I was simpler in approach, but am so buoyed up by reading their stories and the broader and deeper and funnier approaches they took. Thank you so much and thank you to all who took the time to create their own contributions to this effort.
“As sort of promised (or warned), here is my contribution for your green planet writing challenge. — Terry”
LOOK
“Look!” cried Larry, the lookout, from atop the giant, translucent, eerily blue mushroom. “Lookit-it!”
“What?” shouted Marston back to him, hanging for dear life by a slender thread beneath the same giant, translucent, eerily blue mushroom. (Marston, by the way, was his last name, not his first or middle–not that that made any difference just then, since his main concern at the moment was how to untangle the line and clip on his belt that prevented him from any further movement up or down the rope and thus preventing him from escaping the bombardment of the killer meteoroids.)
He knew he shouldn’t have bought their mushroom climbing supplies online; you just never know what you’re getting from those fly-by-night outfits.
He tried to untwist the tangled mess with his fingers, but it was no use; the thick gloves of his space suit were no match for the tight knot that had developed as he hung there suspended in space, who knew how far from the nearest civilization? “How had he ever come to such a perilous situation in the first place?” he thought.
Then, as he wondered why another tiny meteoroid was growing larger and larger, it suddenly hit him: He didn’t have the slightest idea! He knew only that ever since he had been a boy, growing up on the flat plains of North Dakota, he had wanted to be a spaceman, discovering and exploring new worlds. Now here he was, dangling from a rope from a giant, translucent, eerily blue mushroom, being threatened by a meteor shower that pummeled his body, his life hanging in the balance — and his partner in space exploration was yelling out to him to “lookit-it”.
“I’m lookiting!” he replied caustically from the midst of the acid fumes that were attacking his space suit.
Why are you still down there?” Larry asked. “Why don’t you come up here and look at this?” he shouted.
“You don’t have to shout, you know,” Marston responded. “I can hear you just fine through the radio.”
“Oh, right,” shouted Larry. “Sorry, forgot. What are you doing down there anyway?” he shouted.
“Oh, just hanging around,” muttered Marston, as the acid fumes continued to eat away at his space suit and the rope continued to fray, threatening to plunge him down to his death on the poisonous semi-giant, translucent, red mushrooms below, while there was no letup in the bombardment of the killer meteoroids. “How did I ever get into such a predicament,” he thought. Then he remembered that he had already asked himself that question. Maybe he should not be so concerned with the past and move on with his life. He was all for that –but just now there was a huge knot preventing him from moving anywhere.
Just then, the Nebulizer Emergency Replacement Device (NERD for short) kicked in and transported both of them to another dimension, where Larry found himself atop a giant, translucent, eerily blue marshmallow, calling out to his traveling companion below, “LOOK!”
~~~
Photo by Sarah Hall
Albert’s Wife
The estate still boasted its artistic iron fence and stone posts, although the grasses were encroaching. Trevor smiled. How the old lady would chastise that gardener.
Feisty, courageous old girl! Living alone in the home Albert had built her. Married here on a Sunday, by Tuesday, she’d kissed her soldier husband goodbye.
Next year, a scruffy teen hired to paint the fence, Trevor had won her heart – and she’d won his. He’d been there (the son she’d never have) to hold her hand as she’d read the black-edged telegram and cried. She’d refused to live in mourning, but seventy years she never loved but one man.
Today, at last, she was with Albert.
~~~
To join in and write your own 100-word story inspired by this picture, visit Rochelle’s site for the ‘how-to’ details.
~
Just a brief ‘Thank You’ to the couple of bloggers who wrote stories in response to the green planet challenge. I enjoyed reading them, and I had fun writing mine. Anyone out there who’s still thinking and working on one, feel free to post the link to it on the original post any time you write it — even if it’s in the next century.
I say that because I got to thinking tonight about what happens to blog posts after decades — especially if the original author is gone from this planet. Since WordPress does not delete our blogs unless there is some infringement of rules, how long will the words on these pages continue to connect with people out there? I suppose many of them will continue for as long as time itself lasts. Very interesting. And very thought-provoking when it comes to being aware of our responsibility concerning the things we post.
Well, happy blogging!
~
Julia’s 100-word story challenge this week is a beautiful picture from Marianne Whooley at Maris World. My story is below the picture.
IDENTITY
Sandy and Mandy were identical twins: blond, green-eyed beauties with a smattering of freckles and charming dispositions. Mom dressed them in identical outfits, bought them identical backpacks, and pulled their hair into identical pony tails.
She bragged to everyone about how “exactly alike” they were and insisted they do identical chores and play identical games at the same time. She sent them to Gramma’s farm together every year.
And every year, pony tails riding at exactly the same height, matching green eyes gazing into the peaceful pond, they stood on the old bridge and dreamed – utterly separate, sublimely independent dreams.
~~~
Come on: you can write a 100-word story too. Join us by visiting Julia’s site and getting all the information about how to take part.
http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2013/05/13/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week89/
GOODBYE SNOOKY
“Here we are, folks: the legendary bar where Snooky Adams was gunned down by his partner, Lila Corbell.” The young guide positioned himself to imitate the gangster, dressed in Snooky’s signature red turtle-neck and gray, pinstriped jacket, his hair slicked back in Snooky’s oily-smooth style. The resemblance was disturbing.
He looked into the mirror behind the bar, intending to make eye contact with his group via that reflection, but he suddenly shouted, “Lila!”
His audience jerked heads to look behind them at the same second the shots rang out. But seeing no one, they turned back to their guide. He was on the floor, three bullet holes in his chest.
Lila’s reflection lingered in the mirror, smoking gun in hand.
~~~
(I took some license with the mirror. The one in my imagination is bigger than the one in the picture.)
Would you like to share your own story inspired by this photo? We’d like to read it. Hop over to Rochell Wisoff-Fields’ site and get in on the fun:
http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/
I was looking through my high school yearbook, and when I saw this photo, I was instantly reminded of the theme for this week’s WordPress photo challenge: Pattern.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/05/10/weekly-photo-challenge-pattern/
One of my very first — and best — blogging friends — Gerry Ainger, from “Restawyle” and “Writing Hell” — has awarded me the “Super Sweet Blogger Award.” Now, Gerry and I have an understanding concerning awards. We both agree that awards to bloggers should honor them and not put them in a place of having to obey a long list of rules in order to receive the award. If a blogger is being honored, they have already done the work required to receive that honor. I have written an entire blog post concerning this problem with blog awards, which will explain my reasoning more fully. https://sandraconner.wordpress.com/2012/12/02/lets-talk-about-blog-awards/
Since I know that Gerry agrees fully, I feel free to accept this award and pass it on as I see fit — which means NO RULES. So, all of you dear bloggers listed in my 2 recent posts of ‘favorite’ bloggers (see links below) please be advised that you are recipients of this “Super Sweet Blogger Award” along with me. I do mean that sincerely. If I did not consider you worthy of such an award, I would not have specified that you are one of my favorite blogs. I also absolve you of any responsibilities for carrying out rules in order to receive. You have already EARNED the award, so your work is done. Feel free to come over here and copy the award logo and then post it onto your site if you choose to receive the award. (Many of you have it already.) Then pass it on to anyone you feel is deserving — without following any particular regulations.
My thanks to Gerry, whose nominations are always sincere and sincerely appreciated.
Links to the posts listing some of my favorite blogs:
https://sandraconner.wordpress.com/2013/04/19/a-few-of-my-favorite-things-more-to-come/
https://sandraconner.wordpress.com/2013/04/27/more-of-my-favorite-things/
~~~
“I wonder if I should stick my toe in first.”
~
Well, even though I posted the “green planet” writing challenge on here Tuesday, I did not have a story of my own to go with the picture yet. I was still thinking. Two other bloggers have jumped in with great contributions, though, and we are on our way. I finally dragged an idea out of my imagination this morning, so here’s my offering (along with a copy of the picture):
WHAT IF …?
“What’s the latest report?” Oneida asked Tron.
“The planet Verdure is still in a state of internal combustion,” he replied, his face pinched. He looked at the camera relay screen. “Watching that planet disintegrate right before my eyes and knowing I can’t stop it is tearing my guts out.”
“How long do we have?”
“I’ll know more when Beryl and Oma return. They’re out measuring the light levels in the power garden.”
“That red gas is our main enemy?”
“Yes, as our energy pods absorb it, the light energy that holds this planet together is drained off.”
He panned the camera across the power garden of mushroom-shaped growths from which the planet drew all of its life. “See, how many of the healthy purple pods have absorbed the gas until they have turned red and shrunk to half their original size?”
He panned to the pod where Beryl and Oma were still at work. Oneida spoke. “Look, Oma’s starting to descend. Maybe they’ll be back with their report soon.”
“Yes, but I’m not sure I want to hear it. Sometimes, I think we should turn off all the surveillance equipment so we can’t see it all happening one step at a time. Perhaps we should all just gather in the communal hall and do our best to comfort each other until it comes.”
“Until the end comes, do you mean?”
“Of course! What else?”
She looked at him gravely. “I’ve been thinking ….”
“Yes …?”
“Well … I’ve been wondering … Did we just happen?” Tron looked at her quizzically. “I mean … well … I find it hard to believe this whole planet of Mushroom just happened – and that all of us who live here were non-existent one second and then – bang – here we were!” She looked at him hopefully.
“I don’t think I’m following you. What does it have to do with Verdure’s decomposition and destruction of everything within its electro-magnetic sphere?”
“Don’t you see? If we didn’t just … happen … then someone or something more intelligent, more creative, more powerful than ourselves had to have created us. And if that someone cared enough to make us, then wouldn’t it – or he – care enough to save us?”
Tron’s eyes grew large. Oneida could see that it was a concept he’d never imagined. But now … with no other possible avenue of hope … perhaps even he thought it was worth considering.
She continued. “I guess I’m wondering if we were to look back in all the records of Mushroom – especially the copies of those old black books the leaders buried underground last century ….”
“You mean you think there might be answers to our origins in those books? But the leaders insisted that they were lies and made it illegal for any citizen of Mushroom to read them.”
“But what if we could find out … and find a way to connect with our … creator —”
“That’s impossible!”
“Is it? Our survival is impossible as we are now. But, just think, Tron … what if ….”
~~~
Okay, I just can’t resist this. I love writing challenges, even though I don’t get to keep up with all of them. A couple weeks ago, I began thinking about one particular piece of graphic art done by a friend that should spark several good ideas for stories. But, of course, no one else is going to use that photo for a challenge, so I decided I might as well do it myself.
Now, many of my blogging friends are involved in so many of these kinds of activities, they may not have time to add another — and that’s okay. Believe me, I do understand. However, for any of you out there who are looking for one more little adventure in the world of cyberspace writing, I’m going to offer this challenge.
For this time around, I’m suggesting you post your story on your own blog and then come to my comments section and post the link to it — with any other comments you want to make. If this should develop into something regular with a lot of people taking part, and it starts to get too crowded, I’ll FORCE myself to get more sophisticated and sign up for the “inlinkz” system or something similar. But for now, if you want to share your story, just post the link in the ‘Comments’ section below the challenge post.
Now for rules: Uhhggg!
Only two rules:
1. Write a story inspired by the picture — 100-500 words in length.
2. I host a “G” rated blog, so please be sure your story is clean and wholesome enough to be read by any audience — in other words — Rated G.
And if it should transpire that no one is eager to take up this challenge, there’s no harm done. I’m just feeling a little whimsical this evening, and this is the result. Come to think of it, that’s the way I felt when I posted the “Thursday’s Windows” challenge originally — and look where that led! If we do have a good turnout of stories, perhaps I’ll post a new challenge each month, but I’ll wait and see how this one goes.
Now for the picture: Some of you will recognize this work from a previous post on this site. It is by Terry Valley, a professional photographer and graphic artist friend in the U. S. It clearly lends itself to a science fiction theme, but please don’t feel constrained to stick with that. I don’t doubt that many will be inspired to go a different route all together.
Of course, I guess this means I’ll have to write a story inspired by the picture as well. Hmmm. I don’t have any ideas yet, but I’ll work on it, and when I get one, I’ll post my link on here as well.
No time limit. If you’re inclined to take part, take your time and have fun.
~
I changed computer systems not long ago, and I realized recently that my system counts ellipses marks and quotation marks as words, so now I have to count my words by hand. Good thing we have a low limit. (Anybody else out there old enough to remember the old days of journalism when every five letters or spaces counted as a word? And there were no typewriters with built-in “word count.” A writer’s life was hard back then.) This week, though, I’ve evidently used only 97, so if any of the rest of you need three more, feel free to take them with my blessing.
This week’s prompt comes from a photo by Kent Bonham. All of the stories I’ve read so far find great beauty and genius in this structure. But I have to be true to myself and write what the building calls forth from me.
BEAUTY IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER
“Okay, you can open your eyes ….
“Well … what do you think?”
“What do you mean, what do I think?”
“My surprise!”
“This … this … MONSTROSITY!!??”
“It’s a famous landmark!”
“You mean you invested ALL our money in THIS?
“It will make a grand hotel; you’ll see.”
“No … I won’t see! I’m going home!”
“But … I thought you knew …”
“Knew? …
His heartbeat doubled; sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled between his shoulder blades.
“Well ….” He licked his lips to relieve his mouth that felt like cotton. “Well … of course … I had … to … sell —”
He stopped talking and ran.
~
Join in the fun at this link:
http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/05/01/3-may-2013/
The Happy Wordcrafter 
