Tag: storytelling

Endings Anonymous

On By Charli ReneeIn Uncategorized9 Comments
Daily writing prompt
If you could rewrite any book’s ending, which one would you choose?
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“Alright, quiet down, all of you. Especially you two, Jack and Jill,” the facilitator said.

Sherlock Holmes cleared his throat.

“I do have one question,” he said. “Why are they here?”

“Who?”

He nodded toward Jack and Jill.

“They’re nursery rhyme characters.”

“And?”

“This is a support group for literary characters.” He paused. “Standards ought to matter.”

Winnie-the-Pooh sat quietly in the corner, happily enjoying a small pot of honey.

“Excuse me,” he said, looking around the circle. “I don’t think anyone has ever asked to rewrite my ending.”

The room fell silent.

“Then… why are you here?” asked Gatsby.

Pooh smiled. “Someone said there would be snacks.”

“Attendance is voluntary,” she said. “Motives vary.”

Sherlock adjusted his chair..

“Clearly.”

“Welcome, everyone. Same rule as always. No judging endings.”

Old Yeller raised a paw.

“Excuse me… but I’m feeling a little judgy.”

“Nobody asked me,” Old Yeller muttered. “One minute I’m being a hero. The next minute… well, you know. I’d appreciate a second draft.

No one said a word.

Juliet quietly slid the tissue box toward him.

Without a word, the rest of the circle scooted their chairs a little closer.

“Every year,” Gatsby said quietly, “someone decides Daisy should have chosen differently.”

The room nodded.

“Would you want her to?” asked the facilitator.

Gatsby thought for a long moment.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if they’re trying to save me… or themselves.”

The room stayed quiet for exactly three seconds.

Then everyone started talking at once.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”

“No, no, it’s because they can’t let go.”

“I still think mine deserved a sequel.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

The facilitator glanced at the clock and held up both hands.

“Alright, alright, one at a time.” She smiled. “Unfortunately, that’s all the time we have today.”

Scarlett O’Hara threw up her hands.

“What? I’d like to rewrite this meeting’s ending. I didn’t even get to speak.”

Pooh looked up.

“Wait… does this mean the snacks end, too?”

The facilitator giggled.

“Only until next week.”

Pooh nodded.

“Oh, good.” He smiled. “Still… I do rather agree with Scarlett. This ending could use a little editing.”

The Sweet Spot of 5

On By Charli ReneeIn Uncategorized5 Comments
Daily writing prompt
If you could have something named after you, what would it be?
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I pause to ponder. What would I want named after me? Gosh, that makes me think of so many things.

How about an orphanage named after me? Yes, because I’d quit my job and writing and get busy caring for children. A modern-day Mother Teresa. Not an ounce of selfishness, only selflessness. Talk about admirable.

Wait… that doesn’t work. I have too much selfishness in me to want to live in poverty. Besides, the very last thing a humble woman like this would want is recognition. Mother Teresa was such a legend. A huge part of me wishes I was that cool… until I start thinking about doing whatever I want on the weekends.

Hey, maybe a weekend named after me. Talk about being cool. I mean, who wouldn’t want that? Or is that too selfish? How about a holiday? What would it be… everyone has to be happy that day? Put away pain and suffering and find simple joys? No, that doesn’t work either. That would impose on people who are in real pain, who can’t put their suffering away like groceries.

Hmmm… so what is it? It has to be creative. It has to be somewhat original. Oh, that will never happen. Isn’t there a saying that every idea has already been thought of?

How about honoring laziness for a day? That plays on the weekend theme. It plays on the day of rest. Oh wait, God probably wouldn’t care much for me creating a new sabbath and naming it after myself.

So somewhere in between a selfless saint and a sloth machine… what could it be?

Oh, I know. The Charli Machine.

You step in, stand there for a moment, and choose your setting.

Set it to ten, and you walk out feeling the need to give, to care, to be super charitable.

Set it to one, and you leave as a sloth-like being, yearning to binge-watch Netflix on the couch.

But here’s the catch.

If you set it to ten every day, it stops working. Same with one. The machine isn’t built for extremes.

This apparatus functions best at 5.

Right in the middle. Not completely selfless, not completely selfish.

In fact, if you manage to stay at five for 30 days, you get rewarded.

That’s right, the Charli Machine is designed with us in mind.

Oh, you are going to love this.

You get an extra day off. No boss has a say.

Shark Tank here I come.

They All RSVPed Before the Invitation

On By Charli ReneeIn Uncategorized2 Comments

Daily Prompt: Do You Believe in Fate or Destiny?
I may be late to the prompt… but they all showed up anyway.

I am so excited. They will be here any moment.

Wait. What is that in the dining room?

They cannot be here yet.

“What are you all doing here?”

Free Will crosses her arms. “I tend to show up on my schedule, not yours. You know that.”

True. you do.

“And you, Coincidence,” I say, narrowing my eyes, “I’m impressed you showed up at all. Even when you promise, something always seems to come up.”

Coincidence shrugs. “Hey now. I just happened to run into Free Will earlier. Pure chance. She decided to bring me.”

“Of course,” I mutter. “That makes perfect sense.”

Fate, already seated beside God, smooths something dramatic over her knees. “I had to arrive before Free Will. She always thinks she is in charge. Without me, most of her plans would be thwarted.”

God nods once. “She is not entirely wrong.”

I turn. “And you, Timing?”

Timing looks offended. “How dare you presume I am early or late. I am always right on time.”

“Well,” I say, glancing around the table, “I’m glad all you metaphysical forces joined me this evening. And God, of course. I certainly should have known you’d arrive early.”

“Ahem,” Timing gruffs.

“Oh. My mistake. Except for you. And God, of course. You’re always on time.”

“Well, crew,” I say, clapping my hands once, “are you ready to eat? I believe you’ll enjoy it.”

Immediately, an argument starts.

“I insist that I be served first,” Free Will declares. “After all, I am the only one here not obliged to any of you. I do what I want and when I want.”

God shakes His head slowly. “Oh my. Did I make a good choice with you?”

Fate lifts her chin. “Sorry, Free Will, but I have already been served.”

Timing leans back. “You’ll be served when it’s time.”

Coincidence, meanwhile, has taken the nearest plate.

“Things don’t happen by mistake,” Coincidence says, licking a bit of sauce from his thumb. “Right, God?”

God says nothing. He only smiles, as Coincidence always seems to amuse Him.

Fate dabs her napkin. “I just know a surprise guest is coming. And it will happen before dessert.”

Free Will straightens. “Another guest? Without my approval?”

Timing studies his invisible watch, as if wondering whether Fate remembers who determines the hour of arrivals.

Coincidence is busy fumbling toward the mashed potatoes. They were prepared for him. His favorite.

“Ugh,” Free Will mutters. “What is he doing?”

Just then, Coincidence knocks over a candle.

“Inevitable,” Fate says.

The doorbell rings.

I light up. “She’s early.”

“I told you so,” Timing says, straightening. “Why does no one ever believe me? You know, it really is all about tim…”

“Oh, shut up,” Fate interrupts. “If it is destined to happen, it will happen.”

Just then, Destiny walks in.

“Yes,” Destiny says calmly from the doorway. “I am definitely going to happen.”

God chuckles.

Destiny looks around the table and tilts her head. “Is this my seat?” she asks, pointing to the empty chair at the end.

Free Will scoffs. “You don’t get to just walk in and choose.”

Timing adjusts his invisible watch. “Technically, she arrived exactly when she was supposed to.”

Fate smiles faintly. “I did mention her.”

God pats the chair beside Him. “There is plenty of room,” He says warmly. “We always make room.”

Destiny shrugs and sits, as if she knew she would all along.

Coincidence reaches for the mashed potatoes again. “So… was I early, or was that part of the plan?”

God chuckles.

I clear my throat. “All right, everyone. There is a reason I invited you here. I have some great news.”

God smiles softly. “I know.”

Fate nods. “Just as I suspected.”

Free Will pushes back her chair and stands. “You should have consulted me. What if I don’t like your news?”

“Free Will, don’t be upset,” I say gently. “I had you in mind when I decided.”

Free Will hesitates, then slowly sits back down. “Well then,” she says cautiously, “what is it?”

I glance around the table. “Maybe I should wait until after dinner.”

“Noooooo,” everyone protests in unison. Everyone except God.

“What is it?” they demand.

I take a breath.

“Believe it or not,” I say, looking at each of them, “you are all involved.”

“Okay. Here it is…”

“I have decided to write a story about all of you.”

God smiles knowingly. “I know. I also know how it will end.”

Immediately, the table erupts again.

Free Will leans forward. “You can’t know the ending.”

Fate folds her hands calmly. “Of course He can.”

Timing adjusts his invisible watch. “Technically, we’re not there yet.”

Coincidence drops a fork. “Did someone say ending?”

God just chuckles.