Event: The Curious Case ...


  • Plotist Team: Community Storyteller

    Concept: Those who wish to participate can contribute to the creation of a random story. The character(s), genre(s), and plot, will be in the control of those who get involved. To help prevent this exercise in collaboration from taking over your life, and your own writing schedules, there will be a few general guidelines:

    Event will run until the story reaches some type of end...

    • You can add between 1 to 3 paragraphs.
    • Only post once a day.
    • This is intended to just be a bit of fun, so don't take it too seriously!

    Result: There will be two awesome things I would love to have happen if we all enjoy this.

    The story will be transformed into a community created post on our blog (complete with images!). And everyone involved will get credit and if you want, links to your social profiles, Plotist profiles, or other sites you want to be linked!

    Anyone who participates in this event, will be added to the collaboration group on a Plotist world that will have the linked story. Each individual story event will have those who got involved added as collaborators on that story!

    Hopefully you'll get involved and we'll create something fun! To start us out, I present the first event's opening!


    Story Title: The Curious Case of the Vampire Giraffe.
    Genre: Whatever we make it.
    Our Characters:

    • Protagonist No Name Yet. Story written from their point of view.
    • Dad: No Name Yet.
    • Mom: No Name Yet. Missing after mysterious magic trick.
    • Vampire Giraffe: Englebert.

    Opening Paragraphs:
    I know you won't believe me when I tell you this. Hell, I'm 45 and even I still have moments when I question my own sanity. Still, everything I'm about to tell you happened. Not the kind of "based on real life events" type of happening you get in a movie where you're pretty certain you'll get answers for everything that happened by the end of the movie. If only...

    It all started 27 years ago in 2018 when my father accused me of eating all the carrot cake.

    "I may let you live in this house due to the price of apartments rising, but this does not give you the right to eat all the carrot cake missy!" My father and I stood in the kitchen looking at the empty plate that had once loving carried the carrot cake my dad had made that morning. He had just returned from a bout of afternoon shopping and I had just crawled out of bed after a late night spent writing my sure-to-be-successful-paranormal-urban-fantasy-that-will-make-me-all-the-money novel.



  • Funny thing is; when I stared at that plate, shining clean and accusing in my father's hand, I didn't remember eating the entire cake. Still don't. I paid it no mind, though. I'd been accused of sleepwalking lately, so what's a little sleep eating, too?


  • Plotist Team: Community Storyteller

    "Erm, sorry?" I wish I had remembered eating it though. It was difficult to convince him to make that cake after mom had disappeared and I was really hungry. Even now my mouth watered at the thought of biting into that sugary goodness, the frosting melting on my tongue, the tiny bits of carrot crunching and...A snap of fingers in my face brought me out of what had to be the perfect day dream. "Huh? What?"

    My father raised an eyebrow at me and smirked, though ignored my attempts to wipe the drool from my lips. "I said I got the book you wanted." He put his hand behind my ear and with a flourish produced a small palm sized book. I may not be eight anymore, but I loved it when he performed magic tricks. I think he missed performing them on stage. He had had to stop when I was eleven because one of the disappearing tricks he performed with mom had worked too well. We still had no idea where she was. He still has the box she had been in when she vanished in the garage. One bad days, I can hear him puttering around with it.

    I couldn't help the little squeal of excitement. Finally I had it! I reached out to take it and he yanked it high out of reach. Narrowing my eyes at him, I proceeded to jump to reach it. Of course he raised it even higher. Narrowing my eyes, I wiggled my fingers at him. He narrowed his back but kept the book out of reach. Looking over his shoulder I gasped, "Is that a UFO?" With a look of confusion on his face I attacked, the tickle monster in full effect. After quite a little tussle, we both ended up on the floor laughing as I held my newly acquired book high in triumph. "Finally! Pirates: Where did they all go? is all mine!"


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