Monday, October 27, 2014
Online Plot Generators Come Up Short
I'm working on my two short story ideas for 2015 by developing plot outlines and characters. While doing a little online research I discovered something called a "plot generator." It promises to come up with a short story for you! All you have to do is enter a few names, adjectives and place locations. Even you are really lazy, it will come up with those for you.
So I gave it a try and put in a few names and details related to a story I'm calling "Tragedy at Coleman Corner." I think the story that was generated leaves something to be desired, but I'll let you decide. Here it is:
A Short Story
by David Burton
Duncan Early was thinking about Zarilda Farmer again. Zarilda was an intelligent school girl with big nose and sweaty hand.
Duncan walked over to the window and reflected on his old-fashioned surroundings. He had always loved rural Coleman Corner with its outrageous, obedient one-room school. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel Excited.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the an intelligent figure of Zarilda Farmer.
Duncan gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a confident, honest, tea drinker with bloody nose and soft hand. His friends saw him as a tiny, terrible teacher. Once, he had even rescued a tight grandmother from a burning building.
But not even a confident person who had once rescued a tight grandmother from a burning building, was prepared for what Zarilda had in store today.
The snow flurried like sitting birds, making Duncan sad. Duncan grabbed a polished chalkboard that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.
As Duncan stepped outside and Zarilda came closer, he could see the bumpy glint in her eye.
Zarilda gazed with the affection of 8177 sympathetic hushed horses. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want love."
Duncan looked back, even more sadness and still fingering the polished chalkboard. "Zarilda, you are my student," he replied.
They looked at each other with feelings of guilt, like two sharp, solid sheep thinking at a very bold funeral, which had piano music playing in the background and two friendly uncles running to the beat.
Duncan studied Zarilda’ s big nose and sweaty hand. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Duncan in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Zarilda."
Zarilda looked confident, her emotions raw like a sore, slimy school bell.
Duncan could actually hear Zarilda’ s emotions shatter into 9470 pieces. Then the intelligent school girl hurried away into the distance.
Not even a cup of tea would calm Duncan's nerves tonight.
So I gave it a try and put in a few names and details related to a story I'm calling "Tragedy at Coleman Corner." I think the story that was generated leaves something to be desired, but I'll let you decide. Here it is:
A Short Story
by David Burton
Duncan Early was thinking about Zarilda Farmer again. Zarilda was an intelligent school girl with big nose and sweaty hand.
Duncan walked over to the window and reflected on his old-fashioned surroundings. He had always loved rural Coleman Corner with its outrageous, obedient one-room school. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel Excited.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the an intelligent figure of Zarilda Farmer.
Duncan gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a confident, honest, tea drinker with bloody nose and soft hand. His friends saw him as a tiny, terrible teacher. Once, he had even rescued a tight grandmother from a burning building.
But not even a confident person who had once rescued a tight grandmother from a burning building, was prepared for what Zarilda had in store today.
The snow flurried like sitting birds, making Duncan sad. Duncan grabbed a polished chalkboard that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.
As Duncan stepped outside and Zarilda came closer, he could see the bumpy glint in her eye.
Zarilda gazed with the affection of 8177 sympathetic hushed horses. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want love."
Duncan looked back, even more sadness and still fingering the polished chalkboard. "Zarilda, you are my student," he replied.
They looked at each other with feelings of guilt, like two sharp, solid sheep thinking at a very bold funeral, which had piano music playing in the background and two friendly uncles running to the beat.
Duncan studied Zarilda’ s big nose and sweaty hand. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Duncan in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Zarilda."
Zarilda looked confident, her emotions raw like a sore, slimy school bell.
Duncan could actually hear Zarilda’ s emotions shatter into 9470 pieces. Then the intelligent school girl hurried away into the distance.
Not even a cup of tea would calm Duncan's nerves tonight.
