Writing Challenge #14 - Fruit and Straws (Write Nov. 14th)

Hi folks

14 days, 14 challenges, two weeks into the challenge!

You folks are crushing it!

Keep those random bits of plays coming.

And as always, if you miss a day, don’t beat yourself up, just get up and write the next day :)

Let’s gather some raw material that we can keep playing around with beyond November to get us through the rest of the winter into spring again, what do you say?

Speaking of which, yesterday’s submissions for Challenge 11 totaled up to the following:
82 playwrights, with material totaling 272 pages
(So, again, yet another day cranking out the equivalent of two full-length plays plus a short one-act besides)

Onward to today’s writing prompt…

************************

Challenge #14 - Fruit and Straws

Write Friday, November 14th - or earlier if you like
Due: Saturday, November 15th, 12pm noon Central Time 
(1pm Eastern Time, 11am Mountain Time, 10am Western Time for the US Time Zones)


We’ve got a pair left from that list of phrases courtesy of Threshold Theater company member (and stage manager) June Haider



Perpetually almost ripened fruit

(For me, this stirs up a memory of community theater in which a character in a Neil Simon play some friends were cast in referred to a decorative display of plastic apples, grapes, pears and bananas as “the fruit bowl of Dorian Gray”)



The straws that have been grasped at

(June has a point.  
People are always said to be “grasping at straws” - what exactly are those metaphorical straws in reality?  And what sort of desperate scenario has them reaching for those straws as if they might be sufficient to solve the problem in a pinch?  
And are we talking strands of actual straw, or plastic straws (perhaps a bendy straw?), or paper straws?)

The source of the phrase is said in some corners to be from a proverb in Thomas More’s “Dialogue of Comfort Against Tribulation” (1534) which says, 
“A drowning man will clutch at straws.” 
It is said that the “straw” in this case refers to the sort of thin reeds that grow by the side of a river.



Play around with those images and metaphors and see what appears on the page.

Or don’t.

Up to you.

Just write something.

***********************

If you’re not interested in this prompt, you can 

try 2021’s challenge #14: Magic

Or try 2022’s challenge #14: Snowflakes and Other Totems

Or try 2023’s Challenge #14: The Worst Play You Can Possibly Imagine (from Threshold Theater Literary Associate Kate Cosgrove)

Or try 2024’s challenge #14: Every Line A Question (from Threshold Theater Literary Associate Kate Cosgrove)

Or, you know, just ignore the prompts altogether and write whatever you want - as long as you’re writing and turning it in by the deadline, that’s all that matters for the challenge :)

**************************

How to submit your work for Challenge #14

We’re streamlining the process this year with a Google form, 

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdy-wyjz-IITaNsOkXM1zVQu_yrt_o7E4Vp2eQnr-8VNnu49w/viewform?usp=header

but you still have multiple options for how you submit your playwriting output for the day.

After you enter the required fields of 
email, 
name, 
challenge number (for today, that’d be 14 :) 
and page count, 
you can submit your writing in one of four ways:

Save your script as a PDF or Word Doc and upload that document to the Google form.

OR

Post your script online (on your personal website, as a blog post, or as a Google doc) and put a link to that online script in the Google form.

OR

Copy/paste your work from another source directly into the Google form

OR

Type directly into the Google form.

(Whichever option you choose, you can leave the other ones blank.)




Write Friday, November 14th - or earlier if you like
Again, this is: Due: Saturday, November 15th, 12pm noon Central Time 
(1pm Eastern Time, 11am Mountain Time, 10am Western Time for the US Time Zones)

************************

And because we call can get in our own way so easily, here’s some words of reassurance on the basics of this month:

Friendly Reminders - Answers To Common Questions:
(Follow the links to read me expounding on these items :)

Don’t Stress About Writing A Full Play

Don’t Stress About Format

Don’t Stress About Sticking To The Writing Prompt

No.  Really.  I Mean It.  Don’t Stress About Sticking To The Writing Prompt

Don’t Stress About Finishing An Idea (You Can Add Later)

Don’t Stress About “Succeeding” or “Failing”

Don’t Stress About What You’re Turning In Each Day

Don’t Stress about November 27th (however you recognize the holiday weekend) - 2025 edition

***********************

And, just to reassure you, no, we are not going to be sticklers about you following these directions down to the minutest detail - the important thing is that you write, and then that you share it with us, so we can keep track of who’s writing every day.

Also, no, there is no penalty for finishing and submitting early - but it also isn’t a race, so give yourself all the time up til 12 noon Central Time on Saturday to write if you need it.  When you’re done, you’re done.

Again, remember, it doesn’t need to be great, it doesn’t even need to be responding to this prompt (the prompt is just there so you’re not staring at a blank screen to start with no idea what to write about :)

Doesn't even need to be complete - you could have the beginning or the middle or the end of an idea, maybe two out of three but not all, that's still fine. This is all about getting things started, you can write more later. 

You have 16 more days to build on whatever you come up with today, if you want. 

Just get anything on the page, even if won't make sense to anyone else, as long as it makes sense to you.

It just needs to be something.

************************

And that something can be:


Lights up

Barry wanders on, struggling to open a stubborn package of straws.

He pulls a bit too hard and the package bursts open, sending straws flying in all directions.

He grasps futilely at a few of them in an attempt to save them from falling to the floor.

In the process of bumbling across the room while doing this, Barry crashes into a stack of wooden crates of fruit, which now also burst open on his impact with them.

Barry is buried in a flurry of colorful fruits.

From under the pile of fruit, Barry’s hand emerges victorious - holding aloft a few feeble straws he managed to clutch in his hand as he fell to the ground.

Go, Barry!

The End



That’s always your escape hatch, every day.

That’s your base line.

Build on it.

Have fun.

Don’t stress.

Make an impulsive decision and run with it.

Breathe.

You’ve got the day.

Just write.

And take good care of yourselves, and each other.

Matthew A. Everett
Literary Director
Threshold Theater
(he/him/his)