Archive for the 'Short Stories' Category

Garbage Story Starters

Today I discovered an absolutely useless web site pretending to be helpful to writers and teachers looking for writing ideas.

The site is called The Story Starter. (I hesitate to give a link to it.) It claims to have 298 million different story starters. I have better things to do than to sit here and count them. The claim could be millions out but that is irrelevant.

The sentences are blatantly computer generated to a formula. Just looking at half a dozen will show you the formula – which doesn’t work. Being automated as it is, the computer creates many sentences which are nonsense. Here are a few examples:

The sly spy wrote a poem in the skyscraper to discover the dark secret.

The boring ballet dancer produced a movie in the hidden room to create a diversion.

The clumsy hotel manager composed a song in a lonely bus stop to find the missing horse.

I could go on – but you get the point – it’s pointless. Randomly selected sentences like that are meaningless; they are utter garbage and nonsense. I’m sure it is a clever computer programme but the results are pitiful.

I would say that you would have to troll through many thousands of sentences to find one that is remotely useable, or sensible.

By way of contrast, some of the articles I have written on this blog have been very successful in attracting traffic. They rank only a few steps below “The Story Starter” on Google but are far more useable. Click on the link below to see some very useful short story starters, with links to more.

Link:

Stay tuned for more of these useful story starters in coming weeks.

Short Fiction #32 James

James

James hesitated.

Should he enter? What if?

All his life he had been ruled by ‘what ifs’. It was time to stop. Time to bite the bullet. Time to take charge of his life.

Carpe deum,’ he muttered. What a useless mantra it had been throughout his meaningless existence. ‘Still, I might get a job here.’

Fighting the thudding of his heart and the shallowness of his breathing, he slowly pushed on the door. It stood firm.

He pushed again.

Solid.

Immoveable.

As he leaned on the door, the notice came slowly into focus.

‘IN RECEIVERSHIP.’

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2007 Trevor W. Hampel.

Read more of my short fiction here.

This article updated September 2015.

Short Fiction #31 Wetting a line

Wetting a line

James stood musing. The soft slap of the water near his feet relaxed him by its hypnotic repetition.

His gaze scanned the water.

Nothing.

A pelican glided silently from behind the trees and shushed to a stop midstream. James let his mind drift. No use in concentrating on the fishing.

Nothing biting.

He propped the rod up in the soft sand. Moving his chair to the water’s edge he dabbled his feet in the water.
‘Funny how they call it fishing,’ he snorted aloud. ‘I’m merely wetting a line. Haven’t caught a thing all morning.’

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2007 Trevor W. Hampel.

To read more of my fiction click here.

Updated September 2015.

Short Fiction #30 Sleepy

Sleepy

John gave a yawn large enough to swallow a prize-winning watermelon.
‘I think I should go to bed before I fall off to sleep,’ he muttered to himself as he staggered down the hall.

As he entered his bedroom Flipper, his two-month-old kitten, suddenly pounced him upon him.

“Yeeoow! That hurt! Why can’t you practice your claw sharpening on something other than my ankles?”

He shook the kitten free. The cat flipped over on to his back, rolled, crouched and prepared to pounce once again.

“No more!’” growled John. “Time for bed!”

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2007 Trevor W. Hampel

Short Fiction #29 Boredom

Boredom

She trudged the last few steps towards the door. The downpour had made the bus trip home tiresome. The house looked cold and alone. The chilled air of the darkening sky swept into the room ahead of her.

“What a relief,” she sighed. “That old grinder of a bus won’t make it one day.”
She dropped her bags on the couch and went to pour a glass of sherry. She flopped onto the seat, reached for the controls and flicked on the TV.

“Boring,” she muttered. “What I need is some excitement. No chance of that!”

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2007 Trevor W. Hampel