The default setting in Q&As is "Recent". However, by clicking on "Popular", I came across this (the most popular thread ever on this forum, with 88 replies):
https://www.writersandartists.co.uk/question/view/192
It seems to have fizzled out some years ago, but I thought that I might revive the idea for a new generation of users on this forum.
NEW RULE: To prevent total hijacking, each entry may be a MAXIMUM of THREE (3) sentences!
Even when this thread disappears from the most recent page(s), please keep it in mind and return to it again and again. Let's see if we can write a novel-length work of beauty and originality! At least set a new record for thread length.
Obviously, styles will change. Genres may also do so. I will try my best to keep it from sliding into a Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter OR Twilight clone. (THAT's a gauntlet thrown down for some of you fanatics! This could be fun!)
p.s. If it's interesting, I'll ask others at La Gr@not@ if we can publish it. Prepare your CVs!!!
I'll begin:
*************************************
Aisha wiped the mud out of her eyes before plunging her head in the almost-freezing mountain stream.
"That Jon!" she muttered (filling her mouth with water, the rash girl), "He'll pay for this!"
Shaking her head caused myriad waterdrops to fly out from her long, red hair.
(to be continued...?)
Perhaps our readers have not been unaware of the fact that Ms. Austen neither took part in the drinking of “amber fluid” in the forest clearing nor was she of the party in the pub on the way to Stonehenge.
To date – as far as I am aware – no scientific study has been carried out concerning the effects of gypsy hooch on cultured zombies of a retiring (though forthright) nature.
But we just might be about to have some light thrown upon the subject…
We shall leave the uncouth maiden of the rusty locks and the upstart literary personage (quite lacking the gift for words that one would wish to see in a fellow writer) to their distasteful intercourse and hither away in search of our hero: Jon of the bright blue eyes, luxuriant leg curls, and attractive jingle to his walk.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of.
Aisha (who had failed her Eng Lit O-level and only got a C in Eng Lang) couldn’t make nor head nor tail of the late Merton Professor of English Language and Literature and Fellow of Merton College, Oxford (1945 to 1959)’s meaning, but she was a quick one to spy an opportunity. The ground where she had been planning to dig was covered in a multi-coloured and vile-smelling carpet, and – although her feet were safe in Mad Mountain Maggie’s floral wellies – her hands were quite unprotected; but this geezer seemed oblivious to the “unpleasantness”.
“Here, Guv’ner: want a job?”