To Wayne, who came up with a brilliant idea for #2--I love the holographic lover concept, I just want to steer away from sci-fi for a while, but I'll probably write that out into something within the next year, because it's awesome.
To Bluebird, who suggested an amazing post-apocalypse fic for #4--that sounds like just the dystopia I need! And the bit with the apple as an artifact of better times, I love it. Way to work with the last minute panic :)
To Tiffany, who suggested combining #1 and #5 into a single prompt because she knew it would drive me CRAZY, I'm waiting for inspiration in the form of Half Life 3. I'll replay some BioShock Infinite to get me prepped, but basically this is me saying I love the video game angle.
To VC, who also combined #1 and #5, yours is probably, on a visceral level, my favorite prompt of the game. The only problem is that I know nothing about Brighton, very little about the '70s and am not a native British-English speaker, so I've got a lot of research to do before tackling this prompt that I'm incapable of at 9am Tuesday mornings when I do most of my serial writing. I loved it though, totally loved it and will not let it go. I hope you'll Brit-pick the final product for me.
And the winner and champion, for the prompt that suited my needs and captivated me with its possibilities...Lisa T! Close enough to contemporary that I don't have to sweat bullets about accuracy, just my kind of urban fantasy twist, and I can't help it, I'm unnaturally biased toward this pic lately. It'll be just the thing to draw out for my readers here. Let me combine her pic and prompt choice for you guys and see if you don't agree with me...
They've called me a soothsayer, a clairvoyant. Even a prophet. Hell, no! It is true though, I do see the future. Your future. Look me in the eyes. That's all it takes. I fucking hate it. Most hate me even more.
You think you want to know, but trust me, you don't. That's not the way it's supposed to work.
And hell, if you're looking for advice, go the fuck on. I ain't no fucking shrink. If you come to me you better be willing to pay, play, and then stay the fuck away.
You'd think that last bit'd be the easy part. Why would they ever come back after the things I've done to their lives? But they always, always come back. Looking, seeking, needing. There was only one who ever left and stayed away, and I can't see his future anymore. It's just black. I guess I know what that means. Fucker went off and got himself snuffed. Dammit.
So yeah, I'll take your money, your fortunes, your fucking soul, if I could, because there's got to be something to balance the scales. Each one of you eats at my soul every time you "have to know". It's just never enough, though, for any of us.
***
So much potential! I just had to grab it and start making plans with it immediately. I've got another month or so of posting for The Academy planned, and then it's on to a brand new story.
I'm so grateful to everyone who sent me a prompt, you don't even know. You've made my birthday something really special, so thank you! I wish I could have taken all of them, but I'm not as fast a writer as some incredible people (you know who you are) and have plenty of projects on my plate already, so...we'll just have to play this again next year, I think.
Hey top Five-ers...you all get $5 Amazon giftcards or an e-book out of my backlist, your choice. Email me at carizabeth@hotmail.com to work it out.
