More Round-Robin Stories
Mar. 21st, 2006 11:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
revenaI really like the idea of round-robin stories, and I’ve been pleased with what’s developed from the two that I’ve started, so far. I’ve gotten a few comments to the effect that some people would like to play, but feel that they’d make the resulting story too weird or too silly with their contributions.
Well, relax, kids. I’m starting one today that is just destined for weird silliness.
Don’t forget, though, about the semi-serious offerings already in play – it’s never too late to add another paragraph! So far, we’ve got:
Elsa’s Story – Seems to be modern fantasy with mystery elements. Hard to say for sure. Last player was me, which means anyone else can go next. Yay!
The Girl Who Could Only See in the Dark – Another modern (probably) fantasy, with a fairytale frame. Last player was![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amarynth, so it’s open to anyone but him for the next turn.
And today, I present to you, for your collaborative story-telling pleasure:
The Adventures of Mauvoline and Trindy
ETA: Moved to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
write_a_round
Mauvoline Butman never forgave her parents. Bad enough that she inherited her father’s last name (not to mention his looks. Hair like windlestraw, and eyes that would never be either green or brown, but only muddy), but then her mother had to go and stick her with a first name like Mauvoline. What could they have been thinking?
“I thought it sounded romantic, and unique,” her mother said, mildly, when Mauvoline confronted her about her awful name, the day she turned eighteen. This was also the day that Mauvoline packed a bag with a few important items, and prepared to leave her parents’ home forever.
Romantic. Unique. Well! There had been nothing romantic about the way other children teased her on the playground, or about how Mauvoline had never been able to make even one friend. Her torment had certainly been unique, though. She’d give her mother that much.
But she wasn’t going to give her mother anything else, that was for sure. Not even a “goodbye,” called over her shoulder, as she walked out the door. Mauvoline was determined to start a whole new life, to sever all traces with her family, to forget her awful name.
She might have succeeded, too, if not for what happened just as she was cresting the hill that would finally put her parents’ home out of sight.
Well, relax, kids. I’m starting one today that is just destined for weird silliness.
Don’t forget, though, about the semi-serious offerings already in play – it’s never too late to add another paragraph! So far, we’ve got:
Elsa’s Story – Seems to be modern fantasy with mystery elements. Hard to say for sure. Last player was me, which means anyone else can go next. Yay!
The Girl Who Could Only See in the Dark – Another modern (probably) fantasy, with a fairytale frame. Last player was
amarynth, so it’s open to anyone but him for the next turn.And today, I present to you, for your collaborative story-telling pleasure:
The Adventures of Mauvoline and Trindy
ETA: Moved to
write_a_roundMauvoline Butman never forgave her parents. Bad enough that she inherited her father’s last name (not to mention his looks. Hair like windlestraw, and eyes that would never be either green or brown, but only muddy), but then her mother had to go and stick her with a first name like Mauvoline. What could they have been thinking?
“I thought it sounded romantic, and unique,” her mother said, mildly, when Mauvoline confronted her about her awful name, the day she turned eighteen. This was also the day that Mauvoline packed a bag with a few important items, and prepared to leave her parents’ home forever.
Romantic. Unique. Well! There had been nothing romantic about the way other children teased her on the playground, or about how Mauvoline had never been able to make even one friend. Her torment had certainly been unique, though. She’d give her mother that much.
But she wasn’t going to give her mother anything else, that was for sure. Not even a “goodbye,” called over her shoulder, as she walked out the door. Mauvoline was determined to start a whole new life, to sever all traces with her family, to forget her awful name.
She might have succeeded, too, if not for what happened just as she was cresting the hill that would finally put her parents’ home out of sight.
