Genre Challenge!

Question

Alright - I thought it might be fun to play around with genre. The challenge is this: I give you a sentence and you have to come up with a story using that sentence, using a specific genre (horror, fantasy, adventure, romance, sci-fi, etc - whatever you like!).
You have to tell us what the genre is (though I'm sure we could all figure it out!).
There is no word limit, and if you want to enter more than one genre, that's fine, too.

The sentence is:

He looked up into the sky, and watched the clouds scudding overhead.

Have fun! I can't wait to see all the different interpretations for this!!

Comments

Good idea.  I'm thinking of a romance/horror story even as I speak.

Answer 1

The Weatherman

He looked up into the sky, and watched the clouds scudding overhead.  There surely was a storm a brewin’ and by the looks of it, it was going to be barnburner.  Sam didn’t need the weatherman to warn him of an impending calamity.  He could feel it in his bones and see exactly what lie ahead just by studying the clouds.  This day as he stood at the edge of his porch peering upwards he found the cues that this was going to be something special.  There were two banks of clouds both rising and converging from the east and west.  Soon they would form one hell of a storm that would head north and surely cause trouble.  There were dips which are nothing more than tails hanging down from the clouds that soon started to rotate.  Even Susan B. Anthony could have figured this one out.  Tornados were a comin’!  Probably more than one Sam said to himself.  Sam just stood there and watched.  One of those dips could have swooped down and plucked him off the porch in seconds or a lightning bolt could have struck him dead but he stayed mesmerized by the beauty of nature’s fury.  The whole bank of now dark mean clouds shifted and started circling towards Sam's homestead.  But he still stood there taking in sights that he only dreamed of.

Some of us are that way, just like Sam.  I’ve stood on a porch watching a valley in front of me with tornados forming off in the distance.  The rain started and then the hail came and the wind began to blow like I had never seen before.  The telephone poles in front of the house started shaking and sparks flew from the blown transformers a mere fifty feet in front of me.
My wife was screaming, “GET TO THE BASEMENT!!!”  But there I stood watching nature surround me.  It was pure excitement and calming at the same time.  

Call me strange, but I can understand Sam because he is me.

I don’t know which genre to classify this.  It has fantasy built in, but the last part is non-fiction.

Comments

I really like this. You do some great writing - it's subtle, in that it captures ordinary thoughts, feelings and existence, but your use of description means that it comes to life in a way that is "fantastic" - in both senses of the word :)
It's like a chef who cooks an amazing meal with a few simple ingredients.
As for genre - well, as you say, it's a mixture :)
Thanks for the response!

---

I'd call it reality/fantasy.  It's very cool.  The fascination of observing nature at her most upset.  Very concise.

Answer 2

DREAMING IN MOTION

He looked up into the sky, and watched the clouds scudding overhead.  The warm breeze whipped Daniel's long blond hair around his face as he sat up. The other car had hit him at what the police would later determine to be over 80 miles an hour.  

The steering column had plunged into Daniel's chest, shattering his rib cage and puncturing his lungs.  Emily had moaned beside him as he left her in the car to watch from above.  

Her foot was twisted in the wreck, but she'd been mercifully spared.  She reclined in her bed with that foot elevated above her head. The memories of him were an open wound.   

She'd remembered Daniel losing control of the car, and the blinding headlights slamming into them head on.

Emily sat in the house she and Dan had worked so hard to  make a home over the years.  He watched her from a distance.  The way she ran her fingers through her hair as she mumbled under her breath and cried to herself was more than Dan could handle.

The wind outside blew Emily's window blinds open.  "Em, it's me", Dan tried.  

Emily stood and walked to the window to look out onto the oncoming storm.  Lightnight illuminated the eastern sky.  She shook the ice cubes in her bourbon and coke and let one small tear roll down her cheek.

That was it.  That was all Daniel could take.  He approached her from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders.  She knew he wasn't there, but she felt him.  A soft kiss on the nape of the neck, and he was finished with Emily.

Daniel watched his mother in the kitchen of the home he'd grown up in.  She'd grown plump and age had caught up to her over the years.   Gilda's place in this world was to cater to Jack.  

Dan had always hated his father and he watched their exchange from above.  Gilda ignoring him and Jack as cold as the day he was born.  Daniel kissed his mother on the cheek. She felt her son for the last time.  

The thick clouds still swirling above his head , made it easy for him to exit the world he'd known.

Comments

Nice use of the sentence.  You kept it flowing all the way through.  Good to see you on the playground again.

---

Oh, wow. This is a great response - I actually had a lump in my throat while I was reading it, thinking about how it would be to watch your loved ones grieve! The emotions in it were really great :)

---

MrsJesus:  Nice to see you again.  This one makes me want to sing that song from "Ghost".  A very touching story, nice!

Answer 3

This definitely falls in the Romance genre.

FOREST GUY

He was often seen walking around naked in the forest.  He was a total isolationist and such a beautiful specimen that nobody ever bothered him.  When he was hungry, there were berries all around.  When he was tired, there were nests of pine needles soft enough to lay on.  When he was cold there were coves where he could cover up with branches.

He knew that others lived in communities and shared their goods, but he had no interest in that.  After his parents were both killed in that disastrous earthquake, he had no desire for companionship.

On that fated afternoon, he was just laying there - sated with berries.  He looked up in the sky and watched the clouds scudding overhead.  Any fool would know there was a storm brewing.  Soon came the thunder and lightning.  As he bathed in the rain, a spark ignited the pine cone a few feet away.

Now, he had no concept or word for the terms "Neanderthal" or "Lower Paleolithic", but that's who he was.  Even those old farts got some pretty good ideas.  He decided to learn to start a fire.  Many attempts later, he finally got it.  That only took a few weeks.  Once he had it mastered, his pride overtook him.  He ran to the gathering and grabbed the most beautiful Paleolithic he could see.

He clubbed her unconscious and dragged her by the hair to his resting place.  She woke up warmed by the fire and her fears left her.  She cast him a plaintive look that seemed to say "Can I stay here?"

He jumped around a minute yelling "OOha OOha OOha" and then sat down tenderly beside her.  He brushed her hairy nose with the back of his hand and they both basked in warmth.

This wasn't just the beginning of fire, but the start of a great love.

Comments

too cute giraffe.  Funny too.  Little syrupy with that last line. :)

---

I thought about that Doug, but since the genre was romance, I couldn't resist it.

---

Oh, I love it! Unexpected and fun :) Who says romance has to be modern, after all?!
...But doesn't the setting mean that it's not just romance but also historical fiction! ;)

Sorry about the long delay in commenting - my internet has been broken!

---

Thanks LR.  Maybe romance/comedy/historical/fiction/science?

---

You're right, giraffe: romance/comedy/historical/fiction/science it is! Truly cross-genre (take that, Dewey!)

Answer 4

OK, who would expect something strange from me? (shut up giraffe)  Yes, I think I've pushed the envelope a bit with this one.  Enjoy (I think)...:')

  State of Mind

In an altered state we are liable to imagine or realize any number of truths or consequences.  It all starts upstairs my friend.  Locked away in that 4 pound grapefruit you call a brain there are receptors that keep you balanced and give you insight into your surroundings.  Sort of like the wooden steering wheel of a ship.  Any infraction or inhalation that would happen to impact the idiosyncrasies of the very feeble yet tensile mass inside your head has a reaction that upsets these receptors and starts things rolling.  

Lying on the soft moist earth of the meadow I close my eyes and take in the sounds of nature.  My brain processes the different noises and creates physical reactions of calm or fear. With my eyes closed and a snake slithering nearby I would have the propensity to leap.  But I did not see a snake.  My brain did not discern the features of a reptile meandering towards me.  With my eyes closed the brain digested the empirical evidence of a snake coming to get me so I leapt only to fall into a tangle of cattails rubbing against each other making the noise appear as a snake.

Lying on the soft moist earth of the meadow I close my ears.  Silence, but my eyes do hear.  I looked up into the sky, and watched the clouds scudding overhead.  Trees swaying from the breeze created by the clouds creak and groan.  I do not hear this except for my eyes tell my brain the sound and so there it is resonating in my head, the trees bending towards each other.  Larger, darker clouds are scudding overhead.  The trees bend more and soon one topples nearby.  My ears do not hear the tree fall, but my eyes seeing the truth can understand the consequence and the sound of the tree hitting the ground with a loud swoop rings in my head.

It’s all a state of mind.


I guess you could just kill the idea of genre on this one unless "strange" is a category of genre. lol.

Comments

Doug, I love the way you write. It's always so... deep is the word I was going to use, but it's not quite accurate. Explorative might come closer. Every time I read something you've written I get the feeling I'm analysing the human condition.

Also, I think it would be great if "strange" was a genre: 'Oh, you're going to the library? Pick me up something from the "strange" section, would you?'

---

Lunettarose:  Thank you for the kind words.  Some people say that I'm pretty deep, others say it's just a little too deep and I need a BIG shovel. lol.   I think the very first book I ever checked out of the school library was I Robot by Issac Assimov.  I still have fond memories of that book.  Don't even ask me about the movie version.

Answer 5

Well, here's something unexpected - poetry. (Also categorisable under "strange")


Sleepy

He looked up into the sky,
And watched the clouds scuddling overhead.
He couldn't figure out why,
But he had the need to go to bed.

Perhaps it was the slow rain,
Falling drop by drop on his window.
Or the dark that also came,
Maknig him both sleepy and mellow.

Either way his eyelids fell,
Drooping, heavy, not letting him stay.
No point resisting, ah well,
Tomorrow may be a nicer day.

Comments

Ooooh! Thanks for the unusual response!! I can't write poetry to save my life, so my hat is off to you!
Also thanks for putting such an unusual spin on the genre challenge! :)

---

Nice, Spots.  It's simple and everyone can relate to the sentiment.  No ogres or drag queens.  Just beautiful sleep.

---

Thanks for the nice comments. I just wanted to do something different and poetry seemed like the biggest challenge, while at the same time it helped me out by giving me a bit more structure, having to abide by the rhymes and syllable counts, instead of just a general sentence. So, as you can see, I understand what you did with the alphabet, lunetta. :)

---

Good one Spots.  I think you've found a home here.  Nice poetry and thanks for the different take on the genre challenge.

Answer 6

Genre is religious comedy historical mythology.
 
LILITH
 
She was beautiful, loving and created by the same Earth as Adam.  Lilith was Adam's first wife.  When she wouldn't accept subserviance from Adam, she was banished by God from the Garden.
 
It wasn't easy back then to be born as an adult with no experiences from childhood.  God just plops you there - full grown and naked.  Lilith was the rebel, so she got kicked out and got dubbed the "bringer of disease and death".

"Well, Adam,"  God said,  "we can always create another woman for you.  We just have to remove one of your ribs."

"Will thar hurt?" asked Adam.  He kind of liked Lilith, but she didn't obey God well enough.

"I'll do it as painlessly as possible - but she will become your perfect mate as long as she obeys my rules."

When Adam awoke, Eve was sitting at his side swabbing the wound on his rib cage.  They were imediately in love.  Lilith was watching this fiasco from over the hill and she laughed at Adam's naivety.

She watched as Eve glared at the forbidden apple from the tree of knowlege.  Lilith watched the serpent enticing Eve to take a bite.  She watched when Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden.  She laughed at their anguish (which she had already been through).

God thought  'Damn bitches.  You just can't make them in your own image.'  He watched as the Garden of Eden was overcome by pollution and nuclear waste.  Lilith just watched on and wondered if God had made a mis-judgement of the feminine species.

Comments

Check out Lilith on Google or whatever.   She was concidered the first wife of Adam who was doomed to insanity.

---

what happened to the sentence "He looked up into the sky, and watched the clouds scudding overhead." you were meant 2 use??? :-)

---

I thought that would be understood - when Adam was getting his rib removed.  Sorry.

---

You're right.  I dropped a rule.  Any comments on the story itself?

---

I like it! I know you didn't use the sentence, but that's OK - you chose a genre (multi-genre!) and stuck to it.
I'd heard of Lilith before (vaguely). She was considered by some to be the first vampire (according to my sister!).
Anyway, it was a good story, and God's thoughts made me laugh - sometimes I'm sure God is thinking that!

---

Thanks, LR.  Have you heard of the Lilith Festival that Sara McLoughlan does every year to support women in music?

---

No, I hadn't - I have now, though :)
I think that's a really nice idea - it's good to see female musicians being given promotion and even though I guess an all-woman concert tour isn't exactly "equal" rights (since there's no all-man equivalent) it's fair play, since it says that Sarah McLoughlan started LilithFair because concert promoters wouldn't feature 2 women in a row. Grr! I'm no rabid feminist, but that kind of thinking really makes  my blood boil!

---

Good logic.  Thing is - it would be useless to try doing a concert promotion for male artists only.  To promote "male music"?   The Lilith Fair is just a way of giving a chance to some musicians who wouldn't get a shot otherwise.  And they're not into the titty girl, soft porn image either.  Madonna's never been invited.

Answer 7

ok so the genre is like horror/teen horror

MARIUS

Marius not many people knew him, but those who did went missing. People thought he was mad so he killed himself. Since then it has been quiet, until he moved in. He was pale, thin and bared a resemblance to Marius but he had no family and it couldn't be him because of his death 150 years ago, or so the stories of old go. Me? I've often thought there was more to it than the stories ever let on or to what I had heard from the older folks in the village.

the next day at school i saw him againm the man who had moved into that old, black, crumbling house. he introduced himself as 'Jack Scryer' the new principle as our previous had been brutally murdered whilst walking to his car late one night. the stains of blood and stench of death still linger in the air where the murder took place.

Just before lunch a small petite girl named abbie was called to the principles office as she got up fear swept over her face leaving her feel vulnerable. everyone looked at her apologetically as she crept out of the class. That was the last time anyone seen her.

That friday night 4 days after abbie went missing me and my friends decided to meet up on the secluded beach to practise the magicks which had been passed down through our families for generations. i told them to meet me at the Eastern side by the moon pool at moon rise but they were a no-show. i started heading back down the beach then the smell hit me. the smell of death.

About 5 meters away from where i was standing i saw something lying lifeless on the white pristine sand of the beach. A body? i ran up to it to see if my suspicions were true and to my dismay they were. it was the body of my friend Glenn. the smell got too much and i violently threw up and went in search of my other friends. next as i looked around trying to hold back the tears which were quickly fogging my vision  over the death of Glenn i found two more bodies, those belonging to Sophie and Marcus, friends again. This was too much for me to handle alone but i couldn't see Ashley. i looked for her but she was nowhere in sight.
"Ashley" i yelled, no reply. i yelled again and this time i heard something.
"Tom?" i heard faintly
i found her hiding behind a bush shaking vigorously
"Who did this?" i asked her, touching her shoulder to show a sign of safety.
"Marius" she whispered through chattering teeth.
My face which was full of horror was now full of misery and heartache for my lost friends was now full of shock and horror.
"Shouldn't little children be at home in bed by now?" a dark piercing voice came from behind. at that point, he looked up into the sky, and watched the clouds scudding overhead, and Ashley screamed so loud you were sure to hear it in the village.
Then everything went black.

Comments

First, your sentence "That was the last time anyone seen her."   is bad grammar.  I really enjoyed the story.  I can inagine it built into a longer story.

---

I agree with giraffe - I can quite imagine making this into a much longer story - it's full of great ideas, and it's creepy, too. Great effort :)

---

hey thanks this is the adapted version of my story, i do have a longer piece but it is yet to be finished, i will try my best to finish it and then i may consider posting it up

---

Nice story, but you might want to run it through "word" or another program to fix the grammar and spelling junk.

---

Doug, these are close calls.  If you quote someone as saying "We seen you talking to thet cowboy."  that's OK.  I do that all the time.  But using that as the narrator crosses a line and maybe I just don't get it.  Only one opinion.

---

I think it's permissable as a narrator, but only in very specific circumstances. If it's a first-person narrative and that narrator has a background and character that leads them to talk in that way, fine - as long as it's kept up throughout the entire book/story/whatever.
That's not the case in this instance, though. I think in this instance it was just a grammatical error.
That's my opinion, anyway.

---

I agree, LR.  And I don't mean to nitpick - constructive only.

Answer 8

The trucks engine roared as it worked it's way backwards up the hill. It was night, and the stars were out. A few clouds were scattered here and there in the sky. His girlfriend Jackie was in the passenger seat. He parked the truck when the bed rested next to the tree at the top of the hill. The moonlight shone silvery on the scene. He opens the door and hops out, a coiled rope in his hand. Letting down the hatch for the bed, he stands on it and loops two lengths of rope around the branch above. Tying the ends into loops, he looks up at the tree branch. It was thick and strong. Perfect.
Walking to the passenger side of the truck, he opens the door and gently cradles the form of his girlfriend in his arms. Small bruises adorned her neck where his hands had circled after she had spoken. Stepping up into the bed, he loops one of the noose ends around her beautiful slender neck. He lets her go, watching her hang, swaying gently back and forth.
Sliding back behind the wheel, he pulls the truck forward barely a foot. Shutting it off, he slides the keys into his pocket. Standing for the last time on the hatch of the truck, he takes the remaining noose and slips it over his neck.
He looks up into the sky, and watches the clouds scudding overhead. The wind would blow strong tonight. They would dance like they had before.
Jumping off the truck, the rope snapped tight around his neck, cutting off all air.
Her voice rings through his head, her parting words.
"I can't see you anymore Johnny..."
As his eyes go dark and his mind goes fuzzy, he laughs softly in his head. He couldn't see her anymore, either. And he never would again.

Comments

Wow!  It's freaky and somehow believable.

---

Thanks :)