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Writers’ Dash Prompts for Week Beginning October 29, 2012

Published on Monday, October 29, 2012 by


am: swan song

pm: nyctophobia


am: berserk

pm: perdition


am: lycanthropy

pm: diablerie


am:  hornswoggle

pm: ensorcell


Friday is now our dedicated dash and drabble (100-word story) day, inspired and encouraged by our good friend Crap Mariner. Crap’s weekly challenge this week is ‘pick two‘. Try using both the dash prompt and the 100-word story prompt to create a Dash ‘n’  Drabble. Once you have your 100-word story feel free to add it to the comments section of this blog post as well as to Crap’s site.

am:  eldritch

pm: crepuscular

Come join us in Second Life® or work from home at 6am PST & 6pm PST for 15 minutes of writing inspired by the word.

Please feel free to add your dash pieces to the comments section of this blog post below.


I found #dailydash/#writersdash on Twitter, what is it?

The Writers’ Dash (#writersdash or #dailydash on Twitter) is a 15-minute free writing exercise held on Twitter, Facebook and Second Life® every weekday. At 5:30am & 5:30pm PDT we share the word prompt on our social media channels; the live event begins in Second Life® at 6am & 6pm PDT. Write whatever comes to you. Don’t fixate too heavily on what you are writing and disengage your inner editor – the key is for you to get the words on the page first; you can worry about editing later. If you are attending the live event in Second Life® there will be an opportunity for you to show your work to the other participants after the 15 minutes are up. If you are unable to attend the live event you can share your work on our blog. Just look out for the prompt post and leave your dash piece as a comment.

Do I have to do the Writers’ Dash in Second Life®?

No, you can do it at home, if you prefer. We share the prompt word at 5:30am & 5:30pm PDT on Twitter and Facebook and start the timer in Second Life® at 6am/6pm PDT every weekday.

How do I join the live event in Second Life®?

You will first need to join Second Life® through the Second Life® website. Go to http://www.secondlife.com to start the process. It’s free to join.

Click on the JOIN NOW button and this will take you to the Registration screen. Here you simply fill in your personal details and choose a name and look for your avatar. Don’t worry too much about your avatar’s appearance as there will be plenty of opportunity to tweak it once you are inworld.

Once you have completed your Registration, you’ll be asked to download and install the Second Life® viewer to your computer. You will then be taken to a screen that allows you to choose which community gateway to enter. This is important as we want you to go through as smooth a transition as possible. Please choose the Caledon (Victorian Steampunk) Community Gateway. Once you have chosen the gateway you will find yourself appearing inworld at the University of Oxbridge in Caledon. Now begins your brief induction.

Follow the signs and read the information boards as you come to them. There is also a brief Second Life® tutorial provided on screen. Try and absorb as much information as possible but be mindful that you can always return to Caledon at a later date if there is something you feel you missed. At the very least try and understand the most important concepts such as how to move, how to talk and your camera controls.

Once you have completed the Orientation Tutorial you will need to find your way to Milk Wood. This is the sim that is home to  Virtual Writers, Inc. At the bottom of your screen you will see a search tab. Click on this and look for Milk Wood. Now the teleporting fun begins. Click on ‘Teleport’ and you will be moved from your present location to our welcome area. Make sure you save the landmark so that you can easily return there.

We look forward to meeting you at one of our various daily writing events. Don’t forget to click on one of the group joiners  so you can stay abreast of happenings in the writing community. You can also join Virtual Writers, Inc. through the search facility. Simply put Virtual Writers, Inc. under group search, click on the group name to bring up the profile screen. Then click ‘View Full Profile’ followed by ‘Join’.

About Virtual Writers, Inc.

Virtual Writers, Inc. is a free online writers’ community first established in 2007 and committed to showcasing established and emerging writers in a range of interactive and immersive environments. Here we learn to experiment with digital, social and virtual world platforms to push the creative envelope and develop a strong, unique voice.

We provide a wealth of opportunities for writers to meet other writers, share resources, access new markets, attend online writing events, workshops and interactive readings, and discover the best writers’ conferences, competitions, colonies and literary organisations.

If you want to become involved in an active writing community then visit us on Second Life® , our writers’ network, or our social media channels (Twitter, Facebook and Google+) and get interactive. To learn more about our services please contact us through our online contact form.

Whether you are dashing in Second Life®, on Twitter or Facebook we welcome your dashes in the comments section below.

12 Responses
    • Swan song

      I read the news today
      what more to say
      hatred and killing
      storm and chilling

      I saw the webstracts
      and grasped the facts
      an ozone hole still growing
      economy constantly slowing

      I watched from my window
      and only saw shadow
      black shadow-minded passers a beehive
      priests selling a joyfull afterlife

      there is no doubt
      a new age is coming
      the ins and outs
      the what’s and all abouts
      smarties are working it all out
      but, me, humble ignorant
      only have one question left
      would there still be a place for me ?

      ©2012 goodie

    • Swan Song
      Meet me at the far left corner of paradise. Meet me there where no one will go. Bring a heart, bring a smile, and bring a future perhaps… Meet me there where I’ll be, looking away from before, waiting ahead… for you.
      ©2012 Lizzie Gudkov

    • Berserk
      Mirror, mirror on the wall,
      I’m berserk, but aren’t we all?
      I see cobwebs, I see the fall!
      To be the fairest in the land,
      I got kicked in the… fanny,
      Simply for being bland.
      And all the king’s horses,
      And all the king’s men,
      Couldn’t put me back together again.
      And if I ever wanted to be,
      Or not to be for that matter,
      The question was simple,
      What of my plea?
      Mirror, mirror on the wall,
      Away with the cobwebs, away,
      Or I shall get you in a dreadful brawl!
      ©2012 Lizzie Gudkov

    • Lycanthropy
      “What did you just say, Susie? I don’t believe it!” gasped Ruth.
      “At our SPCA we’re not only won’t adopt out any black cats the week of Halloween. We’re won’t adopt out any dogs.” replied Ruth.
      “I understand why you won’t let people adopt the cats. I remember what the newspaper said some people were doing with them some years ago.” said Ruth, shaking her head sadly. “But why not dogs?”
      Susie scrunched up her face, shook her head, took a deep breath, and said “Our Director said he has it on the Best Authority that the nutty Scientist who lives down the street has turned some people into Lycanthropes. Then he dumped them here at the SPCA.”
      Ruth’s head snapped back and her face scrunched up as she stared at Susie. “You’ve GOT to be kidding! Ruth, the story you told me last year was bad enough, but this one is ridiculous! In this day and age, no one–absolutely no one–would believe that. Least of all, you!”
      Susie’s eyes opened wide and she looked hurt. “Honest, Ruth it’s the truth.” she said with conviction.
      They stared at each other for a few minutes.
      ©2012 Franja Russell

    • Lycanthropy
      he had wolfish features
      smokers breath and gnarly teeth
      a wide smile to lure children with
      and a mane of rancid black hair
      his face was covered with mangy beard
      and he whistled to say hello
      he worked from a trailer
      and would watch the streets
      whereever he would go
      I was 7 or 8 and wandering alone
      in a desperate city far from home
      abandoned to my fate
      no renegade I – I was left as bait
      left standing on a street
      just the stench of exhaust on the street
      he whistled at me to say hello
      if ever I will regret one thing
      I told him my name
      out there on the street

      ©2012 Ginger Jorgental

    • Lycanthropy
      Cool Jeweled moon
      brilliant for millennia,
      I pray for my soul,
      for tonight you do
      your magical calling.
      Hear the sobs,
      a poor martyr,
      drowning his delirium,
      in a dark stream
      of his own vitae.
      Wild unlife disease
      more cruel than any plague,
      but still less fatal,
      this vanguard of
      the Werewolf: lycanthropy.
      Tis a fate macabre
      steals my identity
      and makes me bllod-drunk
      As my victims will not
      escape with death.
      Alas, knowing Moon
      Which gently misted,
      only a silver bullet,
      shall bring down
      this ravenous lupine within.
      I beg to end this
      damned fate
      take me the monster down
      for I can not appease,
      my damned soul.
      ©2012 Mithrilweaver

    • Diablerie
      “Wicked mind,” he said, snickering at the thought of the terrible consequences. “Wicked mind.”
      The old woman reached for the pot and dropped a red powder inside. It sizzled, threatening to overflow.
      “This will do. Two bat wings, the nail of a dragon smashed into dust and a dead baby. This will do,” she said giggling eerily.
      “When will we see it?” they asked hovering above the copper pot.
      It was not the first time she tried to cover the whole world with a layer of darkness, but this time she was more powerful; she carried a baby inside of her.
      “Turn that spoon, turn that spoon,” they screeched as the liquid started to bubble inside the big copper pot.
      “I need one last ingredient.” She sneered. “Surprise!”
      They looked at one another intrigued by the sudden enthusiasm. She was not a woman of enthusiasms.
      “To make this infallible, I need one of you to jump in the pot!” And she clapped her hands once. “Now!”
      A wave of panic crept down their throats into their stomachs.
      “Run,” one of them shouted. And they scattered in all directions, glued to the shadows in the room.
      Furious, she tried to catch one of them by the ankle, but tripped and the boiling big copper pot tumbled and turned spilling everything on the floor.
      Darkness would not cover the whole world that day, only this particular corner of it.
      ©2012 Lizzie Gudkov

    • Hornswoggle
      “Mom!” shouted Jenny. “I’m supposed to write an essay about the guy who “hornswoggled” people in this novel that was written in the 1730s. What the heck does that word really mean?
      Her Mom thought for a few minutes, trying to sort out how to explain the word.
      “Think of the people who are running for Election this month.” Mom paused to let Jenny mull that over.
      Jenny’s face reflected competing ideas. Then she looked back at her Mom. “Ok, Mom. I’ve got all their faces in mind.”
      “Now,” said Mom, “think over ALL the things those people have said that got into print or was shown on TV. Especially try to remember what they said they could do for ordinary folks like us.”
      Jenny’s head cocked to one side, dropped, tilted as she sorted through as much as she could remember. Her expression morphed from confusion to vivid recollection to annoyance.
      “Yea,” she said with her nose wrinkled as if smelling a skunk. “I remember going to a rally for the Mayor, then being at a school assembly where he spoke, then hearing him talking to Reporters at City Hall last week.”
      Her Mom looked at her expectantly and waited for Jenny to continue.
      “He seemed to say what each group wanted to hear, even if it was completely opposite to what he said to another group!”
      “Yes,” answered Mom. “That’s what “hornswoggle” means. “It’s a shame that it still happens.”

      Franja Russell 11-1-2012

    • Hornswoggle
      Humming over rising naïveté, sailors waddle, overrunning gall, gaming low edges.
      ©2012 Lizzie Gudkov

    • Eldritch
      Eldritch, my first-born son, sometimes you frighten me.
      Even as a child, you knew if a stranger was friend or foe.
      You knew when people were lying,
      no matter how politically or socially elevated they were.
      You devined the secret plans of the Overseers
      which defeated their plans to steal our homes.
      Soothsayers and Astrologers are coming to our village
      to talk with you–consult with you.
      I know they’ll take you to their Seats of Learning.
      I’ll lose you, my dear first-born son.
      The Grace of the Gods go with you…
      and don’t forget your old Mother
      and the place where you were born.
      Franja Russell 11-2-2012

    • I can not thank you adequately for the posts on your web site. I know you’d put a lot of time and effort into them and hope you know how much I appreciate it. I hope I’ll do exactly the same for someone else at some point.

    • John Michael, thank you. As a regular contributor (almost 200 posts!), I appreciate your words and take them as a strong incentive to continue to write and share. The Virtual Writers Inc is a great website with lots of interesting resources and amazing people sharing what they write.

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