Generate Something New

Task: Generate something new. Limit of 350 words.

I created a character to pair with the little girl I wrote last week. I have an idea for a novel in which they will be two of the three main characters. I had to edit down what I originally wrote because it exceeded the word limit by about 50 words, but I think the man's character is still apparent.


Will Masterson was an expert in the art of making commitments.

He made commitments to himself. To his family. To the people he worked with.

He’d commit his time, his money, and his energy to worthy projects.

But he did not make commitments to women. No sir, no way, no how.

He’d been there, done that, and had the scars to prove it, and he would never return.

Which begged the question of why he’d traveled halfway across the country to receive, in person as demanded, whatever the heck his ex-wife had bequeathed him.

Since she couldn’t lie to him, or cheat on him, or steal from him again, he figured she couldn’t hurt him again, so he’d agreed to come. But unless she left him a letter of abject apology and a check, he intended to throw the bequest back in Franklin J. Quiggley the Third’s face. The attorney could do whatever he damn well pleased with whatever the hell it was.

Spotting Quiggley's office, Will pulled over and parked. As he uncoiled his lanky frame from the rental car and clapped on his Stetson, he reminded himself that Shelby and all her problems were behind him now. Seven years, eleven months, and thirteen days behind him.

And yeah, he’d been counting.

A wise man learned from his mistakes and held fast to his principles. Will had been slow to wise up, but he’d nailed the learn-from-your-mistakes part on the first attempt. But since it was better to be safe than sorry, he mentally girded his loins as he yanked open the door of Quiggley’s office.

Dead silence greeted his entrance. Then he heard a little girl say, “Wh-who are you?”

Even as he wondered what a kid was doing in a lawyer’s office on a Thursday afternoon, Will’s gaze snagged on a pair of tear-drenched blue eyes—the same navy-rimmed violet-blue eyes he saw in the mirror every morning.

Will’s rule about commitment reared up and bit him in the ass. And he swore he could hear Shelby laughing.