Prompt: Write A Slice-Of-Life Story In The Style Of A Swashbuckler
After you’ve read the passage below, take your time coming up with an everyday scenario you feel could be described in the style of a literary swashbuckler. This passage was chosen as the unique use of diction and phrasing in the scene were written to be reminiscent of a sword fight in a swashbuckler. This is to heighten comic effect, but in your writing can be used for other purposes. As per the example, a scenario of high tension is usually suited for this kind of writing style. Your piece can be in any genre, and can include speculative elements if you so choose.
Your goal here is to then rewrite your chosen scene with your own spin, creating moments of humor and tension. Mimic the chosen passage’s unique use of unusual diction and the phrasing of a swashbuckling sword fight to achieve the full effect. This is an open-ended prompt. This exercise will allow you to experiment with new ways to approach a scene through the writing style—not every scene depicting average everyday events needs to be written in a matter-of-fact simplicity. The style of literary swashbucklers was chosen specifically as its instantly familiar to most readers and easy to mimic.
For example, an argument with a manager can be described in the way a sword duel would be described in a swashbuckler.
It can have speculative elements in the same way the fantasy film Kiki’s Delivery Service or the sci-fi film Her have.
Focus on using appropriate diction and phrasings. This doesn’t mean that it needs to mimic archiac writing styles, but it should follow in their spirit.
Sample Passage (From A Confederacy of Dunces By John Kennedy Toole):
After his fourth hot dog, Ignatius ran his magnificent pink tongue around his lips and up over his moustache and said to the old man, “I cannot recently remember having been so totally satisfied. I was fortunate to find this place. Before me lies a day fraught with God knows what horrors. I am at the moment unemployed and have been launched upon a quest for work. However, I might as well have had the Grail set as my goal. I have been rocketing about the business district for a week now. Apparently I lack some particular perversion which today’s employer is seeking.”
“No luck, huh?”
“Well, during the week, I have answered only two ads. On some days I am completely enervated by the time I reach Canal Street. On these days I am doing well if I have enough spirit to straggle into a movie palace. Actually, I have seen every film that is playing downtown, and since they are all offensive enough to be held over indefinitely, next week looks particularly bleak.”
The old man looked at Ignatius and then at the massive pot, the gas range, and the crumpled carts. He said, “I can hire you right here.”
“Thank you very much,” Ignatius said condescendingly. “However, I could not work here. This garage is particularly dank, and I’m susceptible to respiratory ailments among a variety of others.”
“You wouldn’t be working in here, son. I mean as a vendor.”
“What?” Ignatius bellowed. “Out in the rain and snow all day long?”
“It don’t snow here.”
“It has on rare occasions. It probably would again as soon as I trudged out with one of these wagons. I would probably be found in some gutter, icicles dangling from all of my orifices, alley cats pawing over me to draw the warmth from my last breath. No, thank you, sir. I must go. I suspect that I have an appointment of some sort.”
Ignatius looked absently at his little watch and saw that it had stopped again.
“Just for a little while,” the old man begged. “Try it for a day. How’s about it? I need vendors bad.”
“A day?” Ignatius repeated disbelievingly. “A day? I can’t waste a valuable day. I have places to go and people to see.”
“Okay,” the old man said firmly. “Then pay me the dollar you owe for them weenies.”
“I am afraid that they will all have to be on the house. Or on the garage or whatever it is. My Miss Marple of a mother discovered a number of theater tickets stubs in my pockets last night and has given me only carfare today.”
Stick to the prompt completely, or use it as a jumping off point to create something that is entirely yours. Happy writing!
—J.D. Harlock is an Arab American writer and editor based in Beirut. In addition to his posts at Wasafiri, as an editor-at-large, and at Solarpunk Magazine, as a poetry editor, his writing has been featured in New Lines Magazine, Strange Horizons, Star*Line, Nightmare Magazine, and the SFWA Blog. You can always find him on Twitter and Instagram, posting updates on his latest projects.
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