Superfail! (aliaspiral) wrote,

ACTUALLY WRITING: Challenge #3 and Threat Level: BEARS

Exercise #3:
Brainstorm character names. At least 25 different first and last names, middle if you so choose. This assignment is due by midnight tonight and worth 10 points. Be creative! Have fun!

I won't bother you with my list, because the fun part of this challenge was part 2:

Choose five of the names from each other's list and write a short bio about that person. For example: Age, location (in time and space), traits, bad habits, good habits, aspirations, dreams hopes, hates, relationship/family/work status, emotional stability, strengths, weaknesses, where they've been, where they're going. Bios can be as long or short as you want.

So, from Missa's list, the five I chose were Prudence St. Thomas, Jimmy Pickle, Molly Shannon McElroy, Ambrosia McBride, and Thackery Maximillian Everhart, III.

Prudence St. Thomas lived quite happily in her little village. It
wasn't very long since the ship had landed, and living was hard with
fighting to grow crops, fighting to keep the wild animals away from
the pigs and sheep, but Prudie loved every second of it. At 10, she
was expected to take her part in work - she helped her mother make
soap, do the washing, and cook and cook and cook for Father and Uncle
and her brothers. They came home exhausted as the sun was going down,
but sometimes Father would tell stories, or Mother would read from the
Bible before they had to put their precious candles out. Prudie liked
the smell of the candles - Mother hoped to have a hive of their own
set up soon, so they wouldn't have to barter for the wax anymore, and
Prudie dreamed of the taste of sweet honey.

Jimmy Pickle was a cranky little boy who did NOT like to take naps, no
sir! His fathers had to run behind him and swoop him up to put him to
bed while he cried and shouted. He asked for drinks of water and hugs
and stories and the bathroom until Papa frowned hard and gave Jimmy
That Look. Jimmy would wait until they closed his bedroom door before
slipping onto the floor to play with Batman and the Joker, and both
Daddy and Papa would almost always find him there - one grubby hand
still tightly wrapped around the Batmobile and one thumb in his mouth
as he lay sprawled out on the floor, soft eyelashes barely fluttering
as Daddy picked him up and tucked him gently back into his bed.

Molly Shannon McElroy insists on being called by her full name. "My
name is Molly Shannon," she introduced herself throughout every year
of school when the teacher took roll, "and I do not like nicknames."
As she got older, especially in college, she would grit her teeth as
her roommate at the time flopped down onto one of the beds and called
her "Molls," or "Molly-Shay," or even "Shanny." "My name," she would
say with a bite to her voice, "is Molly Shannon." Now, at age 28 and
a minorly successful lawyer, she liked knowing the rules and how best
to get around them. She would introduce herself to her clients the
same way she introduced herself to jurors. "My name is Molly Shannon,"
she says, with a smile like a shark, "And I'm here to win this case."

Ambrosia McBride was born to a young mother in the spring of the year,
and her mama had said her birth was so easy it was like giving birth
to Heaven. Of course, her mama had been drugged completely out of her
mind and was so high on painkillers her mama might as well have been
in Heaven the night Ammy was born. Or maybe her mama was just so
relieved to be done with the whole pregnancy thing. It was hard to
tell with mama. Mama had been rising 16 when she had Ammy, and
everybody had thought she ought to be given up to somebody who could
take better care of her, or at least somebody who wasn't still trying
to pass Freshman English, but Ammy figured Mama had done all right.
Ammy had gnawed on her mama's textbooks and banged on her ancient
laptop while her mama was trying to write her assigned papers, but
Mama had graduated - one year late and with four year old Ammy dancing
and clapping in the audience. Ammy figured it had to have been rough
on her mama, trying to do all the mothering and all the student
learning at the same time, but Ammy had never done hungry and they
never had the water turned off on them, no matter how late they were
with the bill. And here Ammy was, at her sweet sixteen party, happy
and well fed and not pregnant. Her mama was proud as punch.

Thackery Maximillian Everhart, III hated his name with a passion. He'd
rather have been named Fred or Ben or even Ocean, like that one guy in
the movie he'd seen as a kid. His dad and his grandad had managed to
grab all the decent nicknames - not that there were many for so
ridiculous of a name as THACKERY, and he was left only with Ty,
because he was the third. It was a play on words, or so his mom had
reassured him multiple times. Ty was ok - that sounded more like a guy
who knew how to make friends and go to parties. Thackery, on the other
hand, sounded like some stuck up British idiot who had more money than
common sense. When his cousin Edward (which wasn't nearly as bad as
Thackery) pointed out that they were both British idiots with more
money than they should be allowed, all he could do was tell him to
shut up, and go back to wishing he was a normal kid with a name like
Storm or Buck or even Jeremiah. Who has ever heard of a superhero with
a name like THACKERY?

I have to say, I'm kind of in love with Molly Shannon. She's a badass, and I might have to write more about her.

In other news, I've hit threat level: BEARS BEARS BEARS with my yuletide. I just...can't decide where it needs to go. And I swear I've read Mylan's yuletide, but I keep not writing back about it. I am clearly doing a stellar job of this year's yuletide.

Posted at dreamwidth and lj. Comment somewhere!
Tags: actual writing, threat level: bears, yuletide

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