Hey everyone. Does anyone here like the TV program Psych? It's a detective show with a bit of a twist. The main character is an unusually observant individual who falsely claims to be psychic. It isn't large on realism, but it does have a playful charm and sharp sense of humor.
One of the show's playful affectations is every episode (with one distinct exception) has a pineapple written somewhere into the script. It may be a pineapple danish, a pineapple upside down cake, or as in the case of the pilot, a whole pineapple. It has become a game for regular viewers to find the pineapple in each episode.
In keeping with that example, I would like to propose that the Rochester, Minnesota group choose one item or concept that all of us have to incorporate into our novels. It could be something simple, like the pineapple idea above, or something a bit more complex like we all have to have a hobo who wins the lottery but donates his entire winnings to a favorite charity or something.
The point is that we all have to work on a common thread at some point in the month. As we finish, we can post excerpts of the part of our story that deals with our chosen prompt here.
Is everybody game? If so, let's get some suggestions as to what our common dare should be and take a vote.
Here's my suggestion:
Since we're from Med City, we have to include a character who lives in a decomissioned ambulance.
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www.43things.com/person/improg
www.myspace.com/improg
http://improg.writing.com




4,035 / 50,000
oct. 5, 2008 - 18 17
Ooh, I like this idea.
Your suggestion would fit nicely into my story, in fact, it'd probably be my main character. But I don't think it would work so well for people doing fantasies and the like.
52,827 / 50,000
oct. 6, 2008 - 07 36
Have fun with it. There's plenty of room for discussion though. We can choose something totally different too. I think it will be fun to agree on one thing and then post excerpts here when we manage to fit that one thing into our stories. :-)
44,030 / 50,000
oct. 9, 2008 - 13 44
I like this idea. I'm writing a fantasy story most likely, and I think with a little ingenuity I could incorperate a poor wretch living in an ambulance. It might be a horse drawn ambulance. It's decommissioned because the wooden axal broke, and the priests who used it couldn't fix it, because the gentleman that did their handiwork died unexpectedly. How's that for spur of the moment make stuff up? ;)
52,827 / 50,000
oct. 10, 2008 - 12 15
Excellent use of the prompt and excellent job of improvisation. I think you'll do well with NaNo this month. :-)
80,015 / 50,000
nov. 4, 2008 - 18 31
(Cheating -- l live on an 80 acre farm in southern Iowa, BUT, my family moved to Rochester right before I started seventh grade, and I didn't leave until after I'd graduated from Rochester Junior College...)
Since we're from Med City, we have to include a character who lives in a decomissioned ambulance.
"Where'd that skunk come from?"
"Jed tracked her to a half-buried decomissioned ambulance someone dumped in that gorge off the north fence line on the back 40. She seems to have a whole family living back there, but feeding with the barn cats on the deck."
"Great. And I suppose I'm appointed exterminator?"
"Works for me!"
(aside: the gorge is real... the skunk's nightly visits are real... the existence of her family is real... but her real-life habitation is unknown.)
52,827 / 50,000
nov. 5, 2008 - 17 32
Since we're from Med City, we have to include a character who lives in a decomissioned ambulance.
"Where'd that skunk come from?"
"Jed tracked her to a half-buried decomissioned ambulance someone dumped in that gorge off the north fence line on the back 40. She seems to have a whole family living back there, but feeding with the barn cats on the deck."
"Great. And I suppose I'm appointed exterminator?"
"Works for me!"
(aside: the gorge is real... the skunk's nightly visits are real... the existence of her family is real... but her real-life habitation is unknown.)
Awesome job! :-)
www.43things.com/person/improg
www.myspace.com/improg
http://improg.writing.com
44,030 / 50,000
nov. 18, 2008 - 11 48
I posted an excerpt from my ambulance scene to my profile page, in case anyone was curious enough to read it. Oddly, the scene turned out to be (kind of) central to my growing plot. Peace.
Edit for Susanne: Click on my name. That is my profile. Then click on my novel info, and scroll down a ways to find a section called "Excerpt"
50,368 / 50,000
nov. 17, 2008 - 19 04
i wasn't able to find your exceprt. Can you give more specific directions of how to get to it?
50,377 / 50,000
nov. 18, 2008 - 00 55
From my story:
52,827 / 50,000
nov. 26, 2008 - 08 31
Here is an excerpt where I used the decomissioned ambulance.
"Come on in and I'll fix us up a cup 'o tea." Enga turned his benevolent face towards Dalton. "Or perhaps you'd prefer some hot cider or hot chocolate."
Dalton's whole demeanor perked up. "Ummm, I'd like some hot chocolate please." Dalton climbed into the ambulance and expected to be cramped but the inside was huge. It looked a whole lot bigger than it did from the outside anyway. Mis eyes moving as fast as they could, examining everything he could see, Dalton stood in awe. The aroma of rich chocolate wafted over from where Enga James was busy preparing their drinks and Dalton's stomach growled.
The wall to Dalton's right was covered in paintings and drawings. Each one was boxed in an intricate and unique frame and each one contained the likeness of Enga James with some other person or persons. His curiosity on fire, Dalton moved to the wall and gasped. The first picture was a painting of Enga James with a man with a dark, flowing beard wearing a royal blue robe. The robe had a hood that covered his head all the way to his bushy eyebrows and deep, weathered eyes. A slight smile snaked between his mustache and beard and he held a gnarled, wooden staff in his left hand. Enga James stood slightly askance to the man's right. A tarnished silver plaque, centered on the bottom edge of the picture contained the word "Merlin" in an Old English font.
Just above and to the right of the picture named Merlin was one with another tarnished silver plaque with the name "John" on it. The picture showed a nondescript man with long, straight, black hair and wearing a simple knee-length wrap, tied at the center with a piece of rope, pouring water on what looked to Enga James in a girded loin cloth. There was another man with a long straight beard and night black hair standing behind the man pouring the water. He was watching the scene and radiated power.
To the left of the "John" picture, in the center of the wall, was a long mural like print. It was the only one that appeared to have been created with pencil rather than ink or paint. Drawn completely in black and white, Enga James sat leaning against a wide tree with low but far reaching branches. Enga faced outward and slightly to his right while on his right, a light colored bear with his hand in a honey jar faced slight to its left. The bear sat up, more like a human than a bear and the intricately drawn picture showed Enga and the bear conversing. Filling out the mural and surrounding the two conversationalists were a nervous and twitching pig, a slow brooding donkey, a happy bouncing tiger, a serious pondering rabbit, a distinguished wise owl, and a small playful boy. A large black plaque on the bottom of the picture carried the words, "Christopher Robin and his Best Friends."
To the left of the mural like "Christopher Robin" picture, hung another small print like the one that was titled "John." The most life like of the the six pictures, this one could have easily been a photograph an actual photograph. Dalton thought it was one until he looked closely at the character standing, or rather flying next to Enga James. Clad in skeleton leaves and the juices that flow from trees, the small boy in his spring green tunic, complete with a cap with a feather in it, elf like ears, and orangish brown hair, hovered a few feet of the ground and carried a brightly glowing fairy in his right hand. Enga James and the flying boy faced each other slightly while they appeared to be occupied in conversation. The setting for the meeting between the man and the flying boy looked like a tropical island of some sort with giant palm trees, date trees, and deep green reeds framing the picture. In the center of the picture, just over Enga James's shoulder, sat a large three masted wooden ship with sails flying from left to right. A shiny golden plaque in the bottom center of the picture read, "Peter and Tinkerbell."
The picture directly under the one with the golden "Peter and Tinkerbell" plaque had faded as to almost appear black and white, but upon close inspection, the wide range of colors can be seen. In the center of the print, seated cross legged in the middle of a covered wooden gazebo, an oriental man with a flowing purple robe smiled at the viewer. Dark intricate lines wound their way around the sleeves of the richly colored robe. They continued up the sleeves and around the back and then back down the front. The lines were accented by heavy Chinese characters and created an aura of opulence and authority. The balding yet bearded, slightly rotund man holds a half opened scroll in his right hand and a fountain pen in the shape of a feather in the other. A collection of other scrolls, rolled and sealed, lie on small covered stool to the man's left. Bowing toward the man with his head tilted up slightly, Enga James stands to the man's right and holds out a papyrus scroll on a rich velvet pillow. A blackened placque with white letters sits at the lower left of the picture. It contains a word in English and in Chinese. In English, the word reads, "Confucias."
The final picture, on the lower right of the wall was a bit wider than it was tall. It had a cordovan colored, wooden frame with various birds in various stages of flight carved all around. The picture itself was of a man of medium build, with a balding pate, and a thick ruddy mustache. He held a number of loose sheets of paper in his hand and was signaling toward someone out of sight, to the right of the picture. The scene of the picture was one of wooden trees and animals and two dimentional houses enshrouded by a deep red curtains. Enga James, stood behind the man to his left and examined one of the fake, wooden trees. The polished wooden plaque, seated on the lower center of the picture read in scripted letters, "My Writing Friend William."
Dalton couldn't seem to get enough of the pictures. He kept moving from one to the other, over and over, until he'd stopped at each more than half a dozen times. His mouth agape the whole time, the young impressionable boy hadn't even noticed the mug of hot chocolate sitting on the table behind him until he bumped into the table and nearly knocked the steaming hot cup to the floor of the ambulance. "Go ahead and drink, my friend. The warmth will do you good and you can look at my silly indulgences later," Enga said, gesturing toward the pictures on the wall.
With wonder in his eyes and too many questions to actually voice colliding around his brain, Dalton took a seat near the table and lifted the mug of hot chocolate to his mouth. Mmmmm. It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. With each sip he took, his mind seemed to slow downs and the questions he wanted answers to came more and more into focus. Finally, once the mug was empty, he sat and stared at Enga James. "Are all those pictures really you?" he asked with his eyes wide open and his ears standing by dutifully to carry the important words that would make up Enga James sure to be fascinating response.
Enga James leaned in to the table and opened his mouth to speak but stopped before even a single word came out. He picked up Dalton's empty mug and moved to the back wall of the ambulance and set about preparing another cup of the rich, delicious chocolate. Once he had finished, he placed the steaming mug of hot chocolate on the table in front of Dalton and sat down. Then he hopened his mouth once again and said, "Some of the people we meet during our brief lifetimes are in person and some of them are through consideration of their words."
Sipping on his newly refilled mug of chocolate, Dalton pondered what it was Enga James had just said. "So you didn't actually meet all those people in person?"
Enga James smiled. "Now now, that's not what I said." He crossed his arms and looked at Dalton with a firm yet loving expression. "But would it matter if I had? Would you think less of me if I hadn't?"
www.43things.com/person/improg
www.myspace.com/improg
http://improg.writing.com
50,368 / 50,000
nov. 26, 2008 - 21 17
OK, I got the man living in the decommissioned ambulance into my novel. I had no idea how I woudl be able to do that, but I did. My main character leaves town after causing a rukus and ends up driving to Rochester from her home in Mount Vernon, Iowa . She drives by this ambulance on the side of the road . She stops and looks inside where she sees a man sleeping, surrounded by medical supplies and ratty belongings. He doesn't have a place in her life, so she keeps cruising up the road. And back to the story at hand. Cheers!
52,827 / 50,000
nov. 26, 2008 - 21 27
Good job! :-)
www.43things.com/person/improg
www.myspace.com/improg
http://improg.writing.com