Tag: What’s the Christmas Story?

Monday Sparks — Writing Prompts: What’s the Christmas Story?

romancew-596094_1280Although Christmas is over, I have one more prompt for the holiday. Romance is the one genre I find the most difficult to get interested in. So if you are inspired by this photo to write a scene for a Christmas romance, especially if you are a seasoned Hallmark Christmas movie fan, please share below.

I can stand romance better if it’s part of another genre, like mystery or scifi. Or how about all three?

The woman in the photo is an alien disguised as a human to conduct Earth research for her doctoral thesis. She’s fallen in love with the man, who has recently discovered during the holiday season that his girlfriend is literally out of this world.

The woman’s professor comes to Earth to oversee her research and is found dead. The aliens send detectives to solve the case, and the woman is the prime suspect.

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Monday Sparks — Writing Prompts: What’s the Christmas Story?

sisterw-553520_1280Here’s a typical Christmas scene, relatives or friends baking. How would you use this in a Christmas mystery? Share below!

“Did you put in the vanilla?” Aunt Delia asked.

“Yes.” I stirred the thick batter. “I’ve made this a hundred times.”

“Doesn’t hurt to double check.”

I stopped stirring. “Do you think it’s dumb or brave to have a cookie exchange after after what happened last year?”

Aunt Delia rested her hands on the counter, staring out the back door. “I don’t know.”

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Monday Sparks — Writing Prompts: What’s the Christmas Story?

horse-w19244_1280This month on my blog, the theme is Christmas. Anything and everything Christmas.

For Monday Sparks, I’ll post a photo and suggest a style of writing or genre for a Christmas story. For the photo above, I chose historical fiction because it looks like sleighs are gliding ahead of a horse with a rider, who is watching them.

Here’s my version. It’s historical fiction, but as usual, I have to work in a sinister element:

With a nudge from my heel, Midnight slipped out of the tree line and onto the snow-clogged road.

Even without the heavy snowfall, I doubted Deke Black and the other man driving the sleighs ahead would notice me. They were having too much fun, singing and laughing, as the horses pulled the supplies for Old Man Turner’s annual Christmas party.

But I hung back, watching. Deke Black was my only link, and tonight was my last chance to get him to confess what he knew about Old Man Turner and the mine.

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