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	<title>LitSisters - Writing Our Own Destiny -  Independent Women Authors Network &#187; Prompts</title>
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		<title>Play Along: Prompts</title>
		<link>http://litsisters.com/2009/12/21/prompts/</link>
		<comments>http://litsisters.com/2009/12/21/prompts/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Dec 2009 18:08:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>CL</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[For Writers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[General]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Prompts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[contests]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[writing excersizes]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I love writing prompts. LOVE them. They can break a block, jazz you up, fire off into a complete novel. So, as I&#8217;m sitting here, dancing in my chair to the tune of &#8220;Nothin&#8217; But a Good Time&#8221;, I thought I&#8217;d throw some out there to get you movin&#8217; and shakin&#8217; this Monday morning:
1. He [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I love writing prompts. LOVE them. They can break a block, jazz you up, fire off into a complete novel. So, as I&#8217;m sitting here, dancing in my chair to the tune of <em>&#8220;Nothin&#8217; But a Good Time&#8221;</em>, I thought I&#8217;d throw some out there to get you movin&#8217; and shakin&#8217; this Monday morning:</p>
<p>1. He walked down the street, iPod earbuds in his ears, when someone bumped into him. A earphone fell out of his ear, killing half the music. He turned around to see a flash of red hair, and  &#8230;</p>
<p>2. If there was one thing about his life that made sense, it was that he was single. He liked it that way. Not complicated. Easy to manage. As he looked to the pink toothbrush in the holder next to his yellow one, he thought &#8230;</p>
<p>3. &#8220;Did you really have to kill him?&#8221;<br />
&#8220;Are you serious.&#8221;<br />
She frowned, &#8220;But he was so cute!&#8221;<br />
Her best friend looked at her, and rolled her eyes, &#8220;You can&#8217;t keep crushing on them, girl. It&#8217;s not good for business.&#8221;<br />
Pouting, she pulled her blond hair back and heard a crash from behind her &#8230;</p>
<p>4. His dog, Stanley, sat next to him, barely panting. He looked from the collie to the house before him, burning to the ground, and sighed. Well, it was done now. They&#8217;d never find out about &#8230;</p>
<p>5. This was the morning that ruined her life. Or made it. Maybe. She wasn&#8217;t sure, and she really didn&#8217;t care for the fact that she couldn&#8217;t get a clear read on what was going on, as she looked at &#8230;</p>
<p>Post your ideas in the comments. Best post gets a cookie, and heck, we&#8217;ll post in a blog with a link to your site here on LitSisters.com.</p>
<p>Ready? GO!</p>
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