Your character has a surprise secret – Prompt #7

Fleshing out your character. . . either fictional or someone from real life or a photo.

Have your character do something unexpected .  . . something that surprises everyone.

For example, put your conservative character in an improv situation where he/she has to  rap or belly dance.  Have your wild character volunteer to help with bingo in an assisted facility.

You don’t have to include this in your novel,  memoir or biography. Just have fun with writing about a character.

Prompt:  Write about your character’s surprise

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  1. Su

    The Dark Knight

    Batman slaved in the mines for hours
    Until he was sooty inside and out
    Cloaked in Bituminous velvet,
    ebony dust—dry—bitter—choking
    He has a bag at the end of the day
    Filled with black lumps
    As heavy slung across his shoulders
    As it weighs on his heart
    He is a hero
    There will be heat in the hearth this night
    And he will lay aching by the stove
    Plotting evil
    He is tired of being good
    He dreams of wrong-doing and misdeeds
    Of making Santa’s Naughty list
    So that someone else
    For once
    Will bring him a damn bag of coal.

  2. Kathy Myers

    This poem tells a vivid story with an economy of well chosen words. I find it appealing. Batman gets down and sooty; sacrifices his dream to do what has to be done. The humorous twist at the end is satisfying. The character expresses their anger and frustration, yet there is hope that the heaviest burden of all — resentment— can be be reduced by blowing off steam or asking for help. And who can’t relate to feeling like a reluctant hero, slaving away in their own life? Not me.

  3. mcullen Post author

    “My Book”

    I mean, this is the start of “My Book”

    My name is Hannah Mae Iverson and I’m writing a book. So far, it’s about my family and some other people here in Creekwater. I write every day in a little spiral notebook. I hide it in my underwear drawer. I have to keep it handy because I write in it every day. But I also have to hide it because I don’t want anyone to know. They might not want me writing about them.
    Mrs. Walker probably won’t want me writing about how she takes her medicine in the afternoon. Then she stumbles around in her kitchen, banging on pots and pans, pretending to cook dinner. Finally, she gives up and has her son go get some Kentucky Fried Chicken. I swear, they are going to turn into chickens, they eat so much fried chicken. Her husband died last year. People say that’s why she needs the medicine. I think she needs to get a job or do some volunteer work. Then she’ll see people worse off than her and she’ll stop feeling so sorry for herself. But people don’t listen to little kids like me. They think we don’t know anything. But I know a lot ‘cause I watch and listen.
    I tried to solve the mystery of why Laverna’s place burned down. When I walked by, all that was left of Laverna’s was a stinky pile of burned wood. People said Laverna should of seen it coming. She let homeless men sleep in her bar overnight. She said it was too cold for them out on the streets. Some people say Laverna has a heart of gold. I want to see that some day. Maybe I’ll become a doctor, the kind that looks at dead bodies, and when she dies I can see her heart of gold. I wonder if her family plans on selling her heart after she dies. I bet it would be worth a lot of money. I wonder if Laverna has a family.

  4. Pingback: The deepest level of desire . . . Prompt #329 – The Write Spot Blog

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