Saturday Story Starter

Happy May!

And welcome to this month’s Saturday Story Starter.

As those of you who have participated before know, this is purely for fun, just as a way to exercise those writing muscles (think of it as Heather’s Literary Gym). There are no prizes, only the simple joy of putting words on paper (well, OK, computer screen). Also, I won’t be offering critiques, just brief words of encouragement, but I will read all your entries, that I can promise! (And if you’d like to read some of the earlier stories that have been shared, click here and here and here and here and here and here to browse to your heart’s content.)

I have a special photo for you this month:

Aunt Reb on Nantucket

I’m going to wait a bit to tell you its background, though. First, I want you to have fun with it. Who is this girl? What’s her name? Where is she? Where is she going? Tell us her story…

Ready, set, WRITE!



62 thoughts on “Saturday Story Starter”

  1. Elizabeth peddled her bicycle quickly. She was already late for her meeting with Anthony. Her friend and asked her to meet him at the dock at 11 o clock. It was already 11 and she was still several blocks away. She accelerated as best as she could in her dress. Anthony had said he had something to show her. Elizabeth was very excited. It wasn’t often that she and Anthony got to meet. Their weeks were so cluttered with work and lessons that neither had much time for friends. She hadn’t spoken to Anthony in over a month! Then, this morning when her mother had told her about the telegram from him, Elizabeth’s mood escalated to elated.
    She had quickly brushed her hair and pinned it back and was on her way. She quickly stopped her bicycle at the dock. She scanned the dock for Anthony but couldn’t see him.

    “Elizabeth!” A voice calld from behind her. It was Anthony. His curly red hair and gleaming grin greeted Elizabeth as he turned.

    “Anthony!” She exclaimed, “How have you been?”
    “Lovely! How have you been?”
    “I’ve missed you. I heard you had something to show me.”
    “Ah, yes.” Anthony turned and took out a beautiful gleaming camera.
    “You got the job!” Elizabeth said, “oh Anthony I knew you would! The newspaper could not have hired a better photographer.

    “I quite agree. Now, would you like to be my first picture?”

    “Of course!” Elizabeth grinned. She sat on her bicycle and beamed at her friend.

    • Oh my goodness, Adriana! Perfection! LOVE the way you engineered the picture being taken. 🙂

  2. Hi! I just finished reading Wish You Were Eyre and was thrilled with the scene where Tristan kisses Cassidy…. Squee!!!! I wanted to ask if you had an idea of what would happen in the future for Megan, Emma, Cassidy, Jess and Becca.
    Thanks so much! I love your books!

  3. “Lets just say I used to be a girl with no sense of style. No attention was drawn to me. No one ever noticed me. I was just plain old boring. But one simple day, everything changed.


    It was during the early days of World War II. My Father and older brother had been drafted to war. That left my Mother and I alone to care for Robin. My sister.
    Our family was rather poor. We didn’t really have the money to buy new clothes. But, that was the time when I was growing up and nothing fit me. The thing that was even more devastating,was I HAD to go get fish at the harbor store. How could I exactly? I mean, how embarrassing it would be to be found in a dress that was way to tight.
    So, I complained.
    “Mother,” I had said. “It is just so unfair.I don’t happen to have any dresses that fit.”
    Mother had set aside her needle work and glanced up at me. Her brow was creased in amusement. “Oh, Betsy. Go check in my wardrobe. I think there is one dress I haven’t worn in quite some time. I was about your age. It was for Aunt Mary’s wedding.”
    I had run upstairs to shift through her clothes. I had run my hand along her wedding dress. But, saw no other dress that looked fit for a wedding.
    Then, I saw it. It was white on the top with a gleaming lavender tie. The skirt was the same color as the tie. It was long and lacy, and It was the most utterly beautiful gown I had ever seen.
    I quickly pulled it on, found ribbons to tie into my hair then ran downstairs. Mother looked up and smiled. “It looks lovely. have a good time.”
    I smiled and opened the door. A big gust of wind hit my face and I grimaced as saltwater smell wafted up to me. Lets just get to the point. I was still not used to living by the sea.
    As quickly as possible, I grabbed my bike and started to pedal to the shop.
    A man I had never seen before ran up to me.
    “Mademoiselle.” He said in a rich French accent. “Family in the war? No.” He said in very broken English.
    “Uh..Yes. My Father and Brother are dropping bombs.” I had replied still uncertain of what was going to come next.
    “Ahh..yes. I am Theo. The French newspaper writer. Will you please pose for me? I’d like to show people around the globe how this stupid war is affecting everyone.” The man said.
    I nodded. “Sure.” Posing quickly on my bike,I looked off into the distance and let the tears flow. They weren’t tears of gratitude, they were tears of Remorse and fear. They were tears of anger towards Hitler and His Nazi party.
    But, those few solemn tears would bring hope to people around the world when they saw that there were still good things. Such as the dress that I had been wearing that had been tucked away in Mother’s closet for years.”

    – Jenna

  4. I’m looking at the picture in my hands, its of my great great grandmother riding her first bicycle. Her short hair blowing and her thousand watt smile shows she is really happy in this picture. of course her outfit needs a little bit of work but everybody’s outfit need a little bit of work compared to mine. For instance, right now I’m wearing dark blue skinny jeans, a white hoodie and gold flats with my hair slicked back in to a ponytail. Anyway, whenever I look at OLD family pictures. I like to wonder what they are thinking about when they had their picture taken. what IS she thinking?—————————–

    I’m leaning on my bicycle smiling at my best friend, waiting for her to take the picture. its a really hot day and I resist the urge to lift my dress up a little bit, if I did I’m sure I would get into BIG trouble! I mean come on! who shows there ankles in public!?! CLICK! BANG! she took the picture already. (that bang was the flash)
    Today is my birthday and I got my first bicycle just 10 minutes ago. all my friends keep calling it the “wagon of the future!” but I am working on a object you can fly in to get around! I have the basic idea but the flying part is a major road block. I steady my bike and jump on and start to pedal. I pedal slowly to home I want to enjoy this summer afternoon, the sweet breeze containing the smell of lilacs, the daisies popping up from the ground to see what is going on in the world around them. I finally reach my house and walk in finding a plate of gingersnap cookies with a note beside them saying “happy birthday! -love ma and pa- ” good old ma and pa, I think. next to the cookies I find a small box wrapped in cloth, I unwrap it and find a little bell along with another note saying-“for your bicycle. love your little sister mary.- good old mary. I think. it sure is good to be home. I would love to have my idea come true about the flying machine but if I would fly away from home, I would find exotic places and new things all the time but, I sure am glad to be home.

    thanks for reading everyone! I have a sat. story stater on my blog as well for you to do! please visit! here is the link-

  5. Do you think you’ll ever come to MI???
    I’d LOVE to meet you in person!!!

    Thanks so much!!! Oh, P.S. Betsy’s Dad dies but her Brother survives, although he was released from A Japanese Prison camp.

    Keep writing your FABULOUS stories!!!

    • I’m actually scheduled to be in Midland, MI next November — although I don’t know if that’s anywhere near you…

      • It’s about two hours away. We live in Ypsi. Even though I wont be able to meet you…I’ll still love the thought that you are in MI!!!

        • Actually, It’s 30-so minutes away. My friend and I are hoping we can go. Is it at a school? Where is it??? I mean, what time and date???

          • I don’t have the exact details for you yet, Jenna — but it’s going to be the weekend of November 8th, and I believe I’ll be at the Grace Dow Memorial Library in Midland. Keep an eye on the “appearances” page on my website — I’ll post more information there as the date draws closer, OK?

  6. I read this 7:30 am in the morning, played badminton, went swimming, read a book….yet I am still thinking of and idea! I guess it will be a “Sunday Story Starter” …-sigh-

  7. Oh wait….never mind my last ;I came up with this last night:

    I had status.I had wealth. I had honor.I had many suitors who wanted to marry me. Yet I had no freedom. Had no freedom to turn down the suitor 20 years older than me. He was ugly; straight orange hair( I prefer red curly hair), lots of warts, and no cute freckles. But he was a rich price and I was a rich princess, so we were expected to wed. My friends to whom I not confide too, since they envied me, thought I should be happy. So, on the day of the marriage, I simply turned the prince down. Oh, of course I did get beaten for that, but that didn’t change my fate. So I did. I fled from the castle.

    I ran hard, through the busy streets, disguised as a mere villager. Nobody had recognized me. But I was still foolish, as a young girl. I had forgotten to pack food! I still ran until I found and old and abandoned bike on the road, which I rode until a handsome young man enquired as to why the princess was disguised as a villager. I sighed and told him all of the perils. He understood, and told me he would help. Thanks to him, I am now happy. I don’t have status. I don’t have wealth. I don’t have honor. But I have married a certain handsome man, and I have freedom. And that makes up for the genuine smile pasted on my face.

  8. I like the idea of SAT. story starter. So does my mom.
    I’ll do one next week. They are fun!!!

  9. Lylah turns the corner and runs into the door frame again.
    “How many times can I do that in a week,” she exclaims. She now had a nail in her tire, causing a flat tire. It’s a Monday morning and Lylah is on her way to school.
    “What are my students going to think of me now?” she asks herself. Then she hears a splash. She runs to the docks and looks over the edge. She sees…her old school crush Conner in the water. She ducks down to help hoist him out, he doesn’t except, pulling himself out. He drags himself to his feet.
    “Are you hurt?” Lylah asks.
    “Not really,” he answers.
    “Are you sure?” she asks.
    “No, my heart hurts.”
    “For who?” she asks.
    “My girlfriend,” he replies.
    “Oh, you actually have one now do you!” she replies agast.
    “Kind of,” he says honestly.
    “Who?” she asks.
    “Nobody inportant,” he answers.
    “Fine, be that way,” she says sarcastically.
    “What are you up to?” he asks,”doing here I mean.” Although he doesn’t know she is teaching.
    “I could ask you the same thing,” she replies,”what are you up to these days?”
    “Oh on my…well, I’m going to med school, what about you?”
    “Want to go to law school but right now I’m, oh shoot I’m late,” she exclaims.
    “To where?” he asks.
    “School,” she screams as she runs up to her bike.
    “I’ll walk you,” he says.
    “Fine, but im already late so we have to be quick.” They walk to the school talking as they go. When they reach the school they say good-bye.
    “Meet me at the docks after school,” he says.
    “That won’t be for a while, you know that right,” she says.
    “Alright meet you then.” Lylah says as they near the schoolhouse. “Bye,” she says picking up her books and tying up her bike to the posts.

    Ten hours later
    The docks
    Lylah looks all over, no Conner. Just as she is about to give up hope she hears someone calling to her. Its Conner. She runs over to him. He grabs her hand.
    “What?” he asks as she looks at him.
    “Nothing,..but what about your girlfriend.”
    “No need to worry she is right here.”
    “Huh,” she questions herself outloud. “You don’t mean…Conner.”
    “Yep,” he replies.
    “No.” He takes her to the shed and takes something out.
    “This is a camera,” he says. “Here, let me get your picture.” He sets it up. Then says to hold her pose, not a complicated one though cause the picture could take a while. She sets a pose looking toward the West holding her bike in place. Behind her is the sailboat, fishboats rather. She hears a snap and a click, although it was a long wait for the snap.
    “Alright you can move,” he says. She relaxes her musceles. Conner walks her home. They say good-bye. Lylah says to come see her more often.
    “I’ll walk you home tommarrow,” Conner says.
    “See you tommarrow,” she says closing the door behind her.
    The end

    This turned out a lot longer than I though it was, sorry.

    Heather, do you ever start a story and you either can’t (although you keep names written down) think of a name, one that fits that is, or you can’t think of the next thing to put into the story, then you think of a situation, but it doesn’t fit the part of the story. What do you do in that situation?

    • Hey Ems — nice job! I like the “girlfriend” twist. 😉 And to answer your question, yes, all the time. I’m always swapping names out. Jess Delaney was Joy Delaney in the first draft of MDBC, for instance. As for situations, if something comes to me, I jot it down. If it doesn’t work in the part of the story I’m on at the moment, I’ll save it for later. Or, if I’m stuck, I’ll jump ahead and work on that scene. Nothing goes to waste!

      • Really? I never assumed that her name could have possibly been something else. But, for her shy character, I think Jess is perfect!!!

  10. Thanks cause yesterday I came up with an awesome scene, during my brother’s foot ball game( it was terrible I reread it today and made myself cry) but it wouldn’t fit into the part of the story where I was at so it would help to be able to skip around, but I get all these weird ideas at the most random times, times where I can’t get to a pencil and notepad and by the time I do I lose my train of though, then I ocassionally remember it

  11. Ellen peddled furiously through the cobblestone streets of her hometown, excitement pulsing through her body. For once, nobody yelled at her to watch out. Maybe they were too busy enjoying the fresh, warm, summer day. Ellen suddenly turned the corner sharply, perhaps too sharp, and tumbled off her bike. The exciting feel in the air was gone, replaced by worry and fear. Ignoring the scrapes marching up her arm, Ellen’s hand flew to her pocket. She relaxed when she realized her money was still safe and sound. After all, no money, no new bike to replace her old one, which, in speaking, was way too small for Ellen. In fact, that’s why Ellen fell in the first place. And all the time she had spent doing chores to earn the money! Ten months, to be exact. Ellen told her parents about her plan, but they said it would be cheaper to replace the too small parts. Ellen, though, wanted a new, shiny bike. And that was what she was going to get. Ellen grumbled and picked up her ‘piece of junk’ and walked on foot to the bike store. When she stepped in, she gasped. At the back of the store, the bike she wanted sat, waited to be ridden. Right by it? A girl, her heart obviously set on the bike. Ellen slowly walked up to her. She looked up in surprise. “Do you want this bike?” she asked. Then, her tone full of sadness, she added, “I don’t have enough money for it.” Ellen was taken aback by this response. She thought about how sad this girl was, this item she so wanted about to be taken away. In one, life changing moment, Ellen held out her money to the girl. “Here,” she said, “I want you to have this bike.” The look on the girl’s face was better than the bike itself. Ellen hoped with all her heart she had done the right thing. The next day, Ellen was taking her daily walk (it used to be a bike ride) when she saw the girl happily riding her bike around the neighborhood. Ellen smiled. As she walked home, she began planning how to replace her bike’s parts with new ones.

  12. “Now Annie, take care. Don’t go running about in the streets, eat your meals with Jimmy and remember, you must always act like a lady.” Mother fretted as she kissed my cheek. She and Pa were about to board a ship, taking them to England. “Yes, Mother,” I groaned, fidgeting with my long skirt. Pa gave me a wink- we both knew that Mother was an overprotective security blanket. “It’s time to board the ship, Cornelia,” he reminded her gently. One more kiss, two hugs, and three ‘take care Annie’s’ later, Mother and Pa began to board the ship. I waved wildly as it set sail. Then I watched as the outline of the boat slowly melted into the horizon. As soon as it was out of sight, I dashed towards the nearest big, green oak tree. Behind it was a bicycle. It was mine, from my last birthday, when the shopkeeper of the general store, Phil Ingalls, had presented it to me. “Over my dead body shall you, a GIRL, ride THAT, Annie Bulber,” Mother said as soon as she saw it. “That’s going straight in garbage.” But my older brother Jimmy convinced her to let me keep it: “Aw Ma, don’t put it to waste. Let me have it, Annie would’ve never ridden it anyway.” I had wanted to retort, but I knew that if we kept it, there would be someday when I would have an opportunity to ride it. That opportunity was today. I giddily climbed on, shaking with a mixture of fear, excitement, and guilt. With Mother and Pa on the way across the Atlantic, there was no way I could get caught. Jimmy might tell, but by the time we talked to our parents again, this would be history. After about half an hour later, I was racing through the streets. One of Mother’s friends, Henrietta Smith, gaped at me with her mouth wide open as I whizzed by. “Is that Cornelia’s child?” the same whisper followed me wherever I went. It seemed my mother’s reputation for being ‘overprotective’ was well known. Well, I thought as I zoomed over a bumpy, cobblestone path, Who’s a lady now?

  13. hi heather, miss heather or Mrs. Frederick. (whichever you prefer) 🙂 so I have a quick question- so I know Darcy has brown curly hair, and Zach has “hair like summer sunshine” Tristan has dark hair, Simon has curly blond hair, Theo Rochester has hair like Zach’s, what color hair does Stewart have?

    P.S what is your e-mail address I have not found it on the site.

    • Now that is a good question, Daisy. Who can answer it for her? 😉 As for my email address, I don’t post it on this site as I don’t want the “spambots” to capture it. If you go to the “contact” page, though, and leave me a message there, I will reply, OK? 🙂

      • I always thought Stewart to have sandy colored hair- not quite dark enough to be dirty blonde, but not light enough to be blonde. I also think that it had highlights but they were natural, but not super obvious and ugly. And I thought Darcy had brown hair but it was wavy not super curly!!
        – I kind of read the descriptions of the characters but if I have already made an image in my head, my brain tends to ignore the second definiton. Is that weird?

    • Hair like gathering dusk. The brown that goes with his misty gray eyes. Ebony brown.

  14. Preview. Disclaimer: Zoe Suggs is a real person as are the other people in this story. They own themselves

    My name is Zoe Sugg, you might know me better as Zoella. And this is what happened before my YouTube career.

  15. Now, I know what you’re thinking. That’s you? There is no way that is the bright eyed, ombré haired girl I know as Zoella280930. Calm down, it’s not me, it’s actually who inspired me to start YouTubeing, well not directly of course but you’ll see.

    It all started when I was getting a new bed in my London home with my brother, Joe Sugg, and my dad. “Hurry your bum up!” I had yelled down the stairs as I moved my then dark hair over my shoulder.

    “Don’t get your panties in a bunch Zo!” My brother yelled. I excitedly knocked a few old picture albums. Picking two of them up, I turn over the last one to see it opened to a picture. Neatly scrawled letters sat on the bottom of the paper. “Grace Sugg riding her new bike on the new Brighton pier”

    I suddenly remembered dozens of stories about my great grandma. She had anxiety like me, she had panic attacks like me. She always be levied that the world always had a better side no matter what. When she was 19 she started an ANXIETY AWARENESS club.

    The first time her club held a public announcement she had a panic attack right there. That brought publicity to the organization. She was one of my heroes. She was my idol, I completely lost it if I had a panic attack. She would just get up and brush off the dust.

    I look back at the picture, tracing my great grandma’s figure. Her worn picture seems to come alive, “You can be just like me, with all the technology you have today I’m suprised you haven’t started!” I stare at the picture thinking about one of my favorite YouTubers… SprinkleofGlitter.I grab my Mac and head downstairs to see my dad and brother pulling my white bed grudgily up the stairs.

    Giggling, I tell them I’ll be working on something through their protests. “You do it yourselves!” I yell “You little wimps!” I grab a bowl of potatoL salad and settle at our black dining table. Unlocking my computer I quickly head to YouTube. Listening to the groans, mumbling, and cursing of the men of the house along side my perfect teeth digging into the soft potato mixture, I click in a button I’ve always wanted to click.

    I brainstorm and enter Zoella in the small text box happily. Taking a picture with my webcam and touching it up, I choose my profile picture. Adding in the rest of the information, I hear stomps coming down the stairs. “Done!” my fellow Suggs sigh exhaustedpy. “Thank you!!” I say cheerily. “What have you been doing for the last- umm- hour” my father questions.

    Racking my brain for possible answers, I finally settle on a believable one, “I was emailing my chummy!” A notification appears on my screen

    “What’s that??” My dad asks suspiciously. “Nothing” I say halfway closing my laptop, “It’s just a reply” “Ok” they say. After a conversation about Nando’s and gelato, I shoo them away sending them to get both for me.

    Once they leave I sigh and open YouTube back up. After throwing an internal tantrum, I add 280390 to the end and save my changes. I sigh as I decide to keep this a secret a little longer.

    – Hope you like it! I’ve never seen anyone do a Saturday Story Starter with real people so I thought I’d be the first. Before you ask,
    You should check out PointlessBlog, Zoella, and SprinkleofGlitter. Whom are my favs right now. Have any of you ever heard of the following?
    •Zoella (Zoe Suggs)
    •PointlessBlog (Alfie Deyes)
    •Marcus Butler
    •ThatcherJoe (Joe Suggs)
    •Casper Lee
    •JacksGap (Jack and Finn Harries)
    ❌⭕️❌⭕️, kAy

  16. Thanks for telling about when you’ll come!!! I’ll write to Sophie…oops..My friend and let her know. I hope we can make it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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