The Games People Play & the Value of Improvisation: Part Two

By Donnell Ann Bell

Last month I wrote a blog called The Games People Play & the Value of Improvisation | The Stiletto Gang

My point in writing the blog was to explain how word games and improvisation can activate our brains. For writers, games and improvisation not only are fun, we can also use them as tools. Tools to inspire or to help us get unstuck. Further, working these puzzles often churn out writing nuggets worthy of a goldmine.

In last month’s blog I gave an improv example and invited others to play. This month, I’d like to post the participant contributions, and to put myself on the spot as well, I even gave it a whirl.

Special thanks to Marianne Shields one of the Stiletto Gang Readers who I think is a closet writer!!! Be sure to read her gem of an improv.

Here’s how my improvisation assignment works:

Assign five random words and the start of a sentence. (Words are from the Merriam-Webster Deluxe Dictionary. The start of a sentence is from a random book on my shelf.)

Instructions: Create a paragraph or two using the five random words. Participants were free to start with the fragmented sentence or use it further inside their narrative.

Finish this sentence:  Nothing explained the. . .

Five Random Words:

Damage

Firepit

Mirror

Plumbing

Stretch

~~

Participant: Brooke Terpening

Nothing explained the cracked Mirror in the Firepit or the Damage that Stretch(ed) from the broken Plumbing line.

Participant: Mary Lee Ashford

Looking in the mirror I surveyed the damage from the firepit. I stepped into the shower and prayed the plumbing was feeling cooperative and I’d be able to adjust the water temperature. It was a stretch to reach the faucet, and I winced. Nothing explained the cruelty.

Participant: Marianne Shields

Nothing explained the awful damage to the pearl beading on Margaret’s scarlet ball gown When she went for her final fitting a few days ago, it looked fabulous. She brought it home and carefully hung it on her closet doorframe beside her bedroom mirror. It was quite a stretch to get it up high enough to be out of the reach of Susie, her nosey little scotty. Looking out the bedroom window, she noticed Mack’s plumbing company van parked at the curb in front of the house. Her handyman was scheduled to connect a gas line to the patio firepit this morning.

Meantime the mystery of what or who had torn the lovely beading away from the bodice and skirt of the dress needed to be solved. As she retrieved the beads that were scattered on the floor, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a long green feather. Good grief, she thought, was Petie loose in the house again? A month ago, her parrot had somehow escaped from his cage and had been flying freely about the house. The brightness of her red dress no doubt attracted Petie and his natural curiosity. He could not resist the shiny beads.

Participant: Donnell Ann Bell

As an arson investigator I was often called in to confirm questionable fire scenes. But as I talked to the lead cop, I couldn’t sign off on his report just yet. True, the winds had been 40 miles an hour two nights ago. I simply found his theory that firepit sparks had ignited the blaze a stretch. Not that it couldn’t happen, (embers were a leading cause of forest fires) But nothing explained the considerable damage. A typical house fire didn’t melt the plumbing or reduce a three-bedroom house to the foundation. Still, I’d yet to discover any evidence of an accelerant or any other point of origin besides the pit.

Clad in my rubber boots and gloves I traipsed through the ash and rubble one last time, ready to accept defeat and add my signature to the report. That was, until my boot kicked up something solid. At the sight of an uncharred ladies’ compact, I froze. I also suspected I’d find the mirror inside undamaged as well.

It wasn’t a lucky guess. I’d found an identical compact at a scene I’d investigated the month before.

Thanks to the participants for playing improv with me. See you next month! 🙂