Weekly Writer’s Challenge – Week of 2/8/16

A monologue is a speech, or thoughts, said aloud to another character, or even the audience. (not to be confused with a soliloquy, in which the character is expressing thoughts only to himself, such as in William Shakespeare’s Hamlet in which Hamlet is contemplating suicide.)

For this week’s challenge, create a descriptive opening scene using monologue:

My monologue: (it doesn't have to be long, remember, these challenges are meant to be short and done over morning coffee)

I should like to tell you that my name is Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle, and that I live in a spiral-towered, four-story house, with six chimneys, three porches, and a grey fence surrounding a yard sparsely populated with patches of green grass pressing against a grey fence, in what I believe is a valiant attempt to escape—but I can't, because my name is Jack Tumbleweed Wrakleday.

wolfenshire posted at 12:13AM Tue, 09 February 2016 - #4253888

I should like to tell you that my name is Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle, and that I live in a spiral-towered, four-story house, with six chimneys, three porches, and a grey fence surrounding a yard sparsely populated with patches of green grass pressing against a grey fence, in what I believe is a valiant attempt to escape—but I can't, because my name is Jack Tumbleweed Wrakleday.

That's an intriguing opening paragraph. Sets the imagination for what must surely follow.

I like this challenge as many of my short stories begin in this manner.

Here is mine. Apologies if I'm cheating, but this is from a short I wrote about a year ago.

Her name is Sophie Marie Bianchi, born in Naples, Italy, twenty-two years, four months and eleven days ago. I could give the exact minute she was born, the second in which she uttered her first cry or the moment the nurse cut the umbilical cord. I know everything about Sophie Marie Bianchi, and this evening is her last on this earth. Tonight, Sophie Marie Bianchi will die.

That's okay, so is mine. It's an opening line to my Jack of Diamonds story. Anyway, yours is perfect. First person, present tense is the key. And you pack such a wallop into that first line. I can't help but want to read more. How does the speaker know so much about Marie, and why will she die?

Brilliant Work.

@wolfenshire. Thanks for your comment. Agreed, first person present tense is essential for a monologue.

The speaker in this instance is her guardian angel, who knows her destiny, yet can risk destroying the fabric of space-time by interfering.

What I'm going to tell you is classified. You cannot tell anyone. If you do, we will all be killed, executed. I'm not what you think I am. I'm not a serial killer. I'm an assassin for the imperium. I am a genetically designed soldier, raised and trained from infancy for combat and covert operations. I did kill the guard they claim I killed. I was there to kill someone else. I can't tell you who. That death was supposed to be thought as caused my natural causes. Because of this, I wasn't supposed to be seen. Unfortunately, the guard found me someplace I shouldn't have been and saw my face. He would have been able to identify me later. My orders were to kill anyone who could do that. Part of my engineering is for my to follow orders of my commander. I don't have a choice. Even telling you this is difficult but it is necessary. I know you want to help me escape but you need to turn me in. Society needs to have it's murderer caught. Don't worry. I won't go to prison. My commander will hear of my arrest and my transport will be 'destroyed'. If he's in a generous mood, he'll ship the pilots off to some remote planet and with nice sum to keep them quiet. But I cost the military too much to create to be left rotting in a prison cell. As I told you before, I am going back. It's not a choice or a matter of want. It's simply what is.

Here's mine. I got a little carried away, but it was a fun diversion from what I am writing at the moment.....And by the way, none of you used proper speech marks so far - LOL

"Your Majesty, my Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, members of the Council of Imperial Justice. It is my duty as Prosecutor and Defender of the Principles to open these proceedings and outline the case against the Accused, Grand Commander Hemet Drent Miskiv and all personnel under his authority assigned to the nuclear naval destroyer, Ballantine, in that between the forty-second of Tides and the twenty-third of Creen, thirteen-seventy-nine, said Grand Commander did, with high intent and gross malice and contrary to the Principles of Law and Governance as laid down in Crown Naval Articles, rebelliously, mutinously and subversively, commit acts of treason and insurrection in contravention of lawful and officially endorsed orders.

"To wit, that said vessel did approach and advance upon, attack and by use of primary weaponry, sterilise the surface of the planet known as Crown's Virtue in the solar system of Vidrik, and in so doing, annihilate a population of fourteen billion souls and render the planet permanently uninhabitable.

"The Accused, having been lawfully apprehended, is brought now to this court and stands before you to answer the charges I have just announced, having been apprised of his rights and in the company of his Defence Council as is warranted for all crimes whose penalty is, upon receipt of a verdict of guilt, execution before a firing squad.

"I call to the stand, Hemet Drent Miskiv."

Here is my attempt. This is from a story I am working on.

Mom could have passed for Tinkerbell in stage plays. As I remember she was between 4 feet and 5 feet tall and slender. Except when she was mad at me for doing something she considered stupid. Then she became a giant. I don’t think that she really became a giant, it’s just that she made me feel so small when she was that angry at me. She had beautiful glossy platinum hair that was waist length long. There were a couple of times I remember her hair had become fire red. It seemed like her hair was giving of heat, but like I said that was a long time ago and I'm not sure how much of what I remember was real or imagination.

@redphantom This is fantastic work. The dystopian super-soldier fights against his masters story. We see the super-soldier has resigned himself to his fate, but with the promise of character growth he must strive. Excellent opening scene.

@thebryster I noticed that I left out the quotation marks on mine, but in my defense, I spelled defense correctly lol. Seriously, your piece is like wow!!! There are so many questions opened up in that opening. Like what kind of ships wipes out a planet, who are these people, why did he fire? Definable an attention grabber. Awesome stuff.

@ldgilman I like the opening scene, it makes you tip your head to the side and say, " what's going on here?" The monologue is wonderfully playful, yet there is a tone underneath that says, just keep reading, I've got a surprise for you. Well done work.

"No one told you why you're here? No one told you what this place is? We were all part of the genetic experiments before they were made illegal. We were the failures. They tried to increase my sight. I can't focus on anything closer than a mile away. Marcus was supposed to be able to run faster than most cars, but his legs are so deformed he can barely walk. Everyone of us has special needs, most need frequent medical care. When genetic manipulations were made illegal, the law also stated they had to help us and provide the care we needed. They bought an old hotel to house us all together, figuring it would be easier to to help us if we were all together. There's no official name. We call it Re-vi, Reject-ville. They didn't tell you this when they brought you here?"

Sorry for a second entry. I couldn't resist.

@redphantom You are welcome to add as many entries as you like. The whole idea is to share ideas. Anyway, I like the concept of Re-vi. I can just imagine all the interesting adventures, triumphs, and failures that might occur among a group like that. Brilliant work.

"Get out of here, you lowdown bastard, and don't come back!" Bev grabbed Ron's arm and tried to drag him to the door. "You think you can just waltz in here and act like you own the place? You ain't paid a cent toward the running of this household in two years, and I've cut you all the slack I'm gonna cut!" Ron put up a token resistance, but Bev kept him moving. "You've camped on this couch more times than I can count, and I've given you a place to stay more than I should've, but you will NOT bring drugs into this house and expect me to sit by and pretend I don't know what's goin' on around here!" Ron raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath, ready to yell back. "Don't you say a word, asshole. Not a word. As far as I'm concerned, I got no brother. You and me are done."

.........

Sorry to be so late with these. I'm loving what you're doing, but haven't been motivated enough to sit at the computer! I think now that I've got the taxes done, my desk will be a much more inviting and friendly place. LOL!

auntietk posted at 4:49PM Fri, 26 February 2016 - #4257716

"Get out of here, you lowdown bastard, and don't come back!" Bev grabbed Ron's arm and tried to drag him to the door. "You think you can just waltz in here and act like you own the place? You ain't paid a cent toward the running of this household in two years, and I've cut you all the slack I'm gonna cut!" Ron put up a token resistance, but Bev kept him moving. "You've camped on this couch more times than I can count, and I've given you a place to stay more than I should've, but you will NOT bring drugs into this house and expect me to sit by and pretend I don't know what's goin' on around here!" Ron raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath, ready to yell back. "Don't you say a word, asshole. Not a word. As far as I'm concerned, I got no brother. You and me are done."

.........

Sorry to be so late with these. I'm loving what you're doing, but haven't been motivated enough to sit at the computer! I think now that I've got the taxes done, my desk will be a much more inviting and friendly place. LOL!

Oh wow. I was thinking the whole time it was a boyfriend, but then the twist at the end. Brilliant.

Hello... I'm pretty sure this is too late, but I didn't read the rules and I'm not actual sure if there are rules... If fact I'm not entirely sure what day or date it is or if this is a really boring hallucination or not... Most of my hallucinations involve killer robots and talking animals, so this might actually be real... Anyway, I just found this forum because I dropped my iPad into the bathroom wastebasket and while I was wiping off assorted dander, molted hairs and fragments of Kleenex, the combination of random swipes opened this page... After reading some of the post and or titles in this forum I got the impression that this was either a writer forum or a thinly disguised black market forum for selling contraband salamis made from endangered reptiles... I'm gonna go with the first one... I'm also not sure if this qualifies as a monologue, mainly because I never really paid attention in school and I suppose this is one of those instances where doing so may have helped... But what the hell, it's not like if I'm wrong anyone will die this time. I hope. Anyway... This is a short except from a long short story I wrote for one of my daughters last summer...

Admiral Woodsock was a short, fat, vaguely walrus-like hippo-man that looked like a malformed Ringo Star in a flamboyant Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club band uniform. He was rather tall for his dumpiness, but in his neat purple satin uniform, his one remaining eye sparkled like a wet green Gummi-Blob that some small child had spit out onto the sidewalk after realizing it was lime and not some better tasting green flavor. Surly his other eye would have sparkled too, were it not in a jar in his underwear drawer back at his quarters, yet his determination showed as he made his way to the podium and faced the wrong way. Unfortunately his good eye was the one in the jar. A Hush fell on the crowd as he straightened himself and began to speak... "Rebel scum and Giant Blue Hamster People"... A long wooden stick came from off to the side and prodded him until he more or less faced the crowd... "For nearly a century our worlds have opposed the Evil Galactic Consortium™ and have paid dearly for our insolence and my inability to properly lead you and I commend you for your efforts and that nice sandwich I found on the table in back by the vending machines"... The mustard from the sandwich glistening on his Teddy Roosevelt mustache and various parts of his otherwise neat purple satin uniform. He flicked a piece of wet salami from between his large front teeth and continued... "But today I stand before you, not to convince you to embark on just another insane suicide mission as usual, but to inspire you to embark on an insane suicide mission like no other before... One so insane that if despite the incredibly high odds of it being a complete at total disaster like no other complete and total disaster before, if it were to succeed, it would change the course of history and the Evil Galactic Consortium™ would crumble like a stale slice of coffee cake on a hot summer morning".... A small dribble of drool escaped the corner of his mouth and dripped down his uniform and into one of the his front pockets as he thought about the coffee cake... "If this insane suicide mission succeeds, we can finally defeat the Consortium and no longer be rebel scum, but free scum and free giant blue hamster people"... The crowd of assorted rabble and rebels erupted in cheers. Even the Hush got up and began to flap it's paw-flippers in an attempt to clap like the rest. Woodsock cleared his throat and a half chewed anchovy escaped his gums and rolled out onto his otherwise neat but mustard and drool stained purple satin uniform. He continued, " For far too long our hit and run and attack and die tactics have fail to bring us the victories we need... Or any victories at all, but with this new information that hopefully we have interpreted properly, unlike last time... we can finally defeat the Consortium... once and for all and we can stop cowering in the shadows like frightened rodents... Well, except for the Frightened Cowering Rodent People of Varsacs nine... They can continue to cower in the shadows if they please... But freely... As free and proud Frightened Cowering Rodent People, free to cower in any shadows they please, whenever they want!" The crowd went wild and the applause was deafening. Even a Varsacian Rodent Person came out of the shadows to boldly applaud. The crowd hardly noticed as it died of fright and continued hooting, snorting and peeing enthusiastically in agreement with Woodsock's words. With all the cheering and peeing, I could see this was going to take a while until the crowd calmed down and Woodsock could continue. So I decided to take a bathroom break myself... but in an actual bathroom. I left the enthusiastic group of aliens to search for a restroom, which in an alien filled universe can be quite confusing and daunting considering how many different pictograms there are for bathroom and how many closely resemble for instance, mating rooms, snorgging chambers or suicide compactor booth symbols. I could see where some of the creatures who didn't actually pee in celebration, might just take that opportunity to relieve themselves while they had a chance instead of risking an embarrassing or fatal mistake misinterpreting a enigmatic pictogram.

Well, I hope nobody died because of this and I hope nobody felt I didn't explain enough or punctuate properly or was coherent enough. I don't believe in proper grammar or coherent thought structure... I believe writing should be like running naked through a summer field with a swarm of angry wasps chasing you... If you make it to the metaphorical lake and made your point, sure some who may have witnessed the event may be scared for life, but the point is you enjoyed the thrill of kicking the wasp's nest bare assed naked and running like a fool across a meadow pursued by murderous insects hell bent on stinging the crap out of you, who cares if it's public park... You ran the risk of getting stung... And I believe that's what writing is all about... Kicking wasps. Maybe that isn't the point... I forget... I've been stung by a lot of wasps and I think it's starting to effect me at this point. Anyway. That's what I decided to randomly contribute. Incidentally I have a fine Reticulated Python Sopressto sausage... it's not endangered, but if this isn't a writers forum, I'm just putting that out there.

Have a great day everyone.

A fantastic and fun addition to the challenge. I think you nailed Admiral Woodsock squarely on the head with the flair of a fine cheese and sausage stacked cracker, downed with a red Zinf. You are never too late to do any of the challenges. There aren't any rules other than to use one of the 6,500 spoken available languages on Earth, and we'll even be flexible with that. The idea is to share the many ways there are to write. A challenge is issued each week and intended to be something you can have fun with over your morning coffee. Please feel free to join in any of the challenges. I hope to see your talent here again. Please do drop your ipad more often.

Thank you! Any of the 6,500 spoken languages? I definitely like Zumaya, there are some neat sayings about monkeys there, and if you really want to curse someone out, then Kanakanabu is great... Granted they are almost dead languages, but I'm feeling like they are due for a comeback any time now. If you think about it almost nobody spoke English until it became cool in the late 1990s and now like every bad guy and evil overlord across the galaxy has an English accent. I suppose for the sake of convenience I'll stick to English for now though. But I do look forward to interrupting the flow of intellectual creative discourse with my random cryptic ramblings!

I have no idea what that last sentence meant... But it was made of words, and stuff made of words is what writing is all about!

Right?

I was lead to believe that at some point... Oh well, no matter... Thank you!