Scene From a Pic — Snarky Reader Style!

For those new to the Snark, every ten days or so I post a picture and ask the readers to “just write.”

It can be a scene, a plot, or even one line. It’s a fantastic way to loosen up your creativity and get that mind working.

Post your writing in the comment section or email it directly to me at I will then post your name and your website with your writing. So, not only are you working that creative muscle, you’re getting a little extra traffic to your site.

My only rule is to have fun!

Last time, I tried something new and I loved the response, so we’re adding mood music to our Scene from a Pic again. The Writing From the last picture is all over the place and absolutely wonderful!!!!!

The new picture and music will be at the end of this post, so make sure to take a look. You can submit your piece anytime in the next ten days, so have fun!(BTW, importing this post messed with the formatting. I do plan to come in here and fix as soon as I can load up the orginals. )



This is the last picture– It’s by the extremely talented Linda Bergkvist. furiae And here is the moody music our Snarky readers listened to while writing. Click here for Le Serpent Rouge from Arcana! Arcana – official homepage


Rayke from Rayke: Uncensored wrote: One look at the Godess’ cleavage, and the city perished.


Elaine from Mississhippi’s Madness wrote:

He watched the smoke as it seeped from between her lips. And then coughed, loudly.“Would you mind, I’m trying to breathe here.”

She looked down her nose at him, reached out and stubbed the cigarette out on his cheek.“Darling, you need more than breath to live.”


Laura from Mad Below My Feet wrote:

Elephants bedecked in silk lumbered down the street in front of the palace.“Milady, Tialle requests a moment.”Queen Cliodna looked up from the processional at her page.“The poet?” she asked.

“The prophet.”

Oh God, she thought. He’s calling himself a prophet now?

“Admit him.”

She turned back to the parade just in time to see Gregor the Conjuror create a dragon from stone, then send it flying into smoke.

“Milady,” Tialle’s voice behind her. “I’ve come to ask that you release my wives.”

“When my temple is cleared of your mercenaries, you shall have your wives.” She paused. “Except Brigitt. She belongs here.”

Tialle lowered his eyes and nodded. Cliodna wondered at his easy submission.

He is planning something.

The musicians marched under the Queen’s terrace, their notes drowning out other sound as Tialle retreated.
Queen Cliodna cast her page a glance. The page nodded, indicating that Tialle was being followed.
Betty from The Journey of a 1000 Miles wrote: (Read it slowly with the rhythm of the song)
am the Witch.
The rhythms
of the Great Mother
through my veins.
Hot Rhythms –FireFire and

All power is Mine.

Power Above.
Power Below.

Only the foolish
cross my path
With malice.

I am
the incarnation
of She
Who is
and always has been.

I know no fear.
Tremble before no one.

Fear me.

Love me.

I am the Witch.

And yes, I’m playing. In fact… I played too long. But, I’m still sharing it. And btw, tonight as well as tomorrow night is the rise of the Full Corn Moon!(g)

Smoke slithered over Anahid’s lips. She rolled the dark flavor of tobacco on her tongue as she waited for the rise of the Full Corn Moon. Tonight, more than any other night in the year, it would be closest to earth– close enough to harvest all of its power.The night wind blew fierce this far from the city, its kiss cool upon her neck. She watched it steal the ashes from her cigarette and remembered her first theft from twenty years before– the one that had brought her to this very place. Her grandmother smiled, nose disappearing under the heavily, wrinkled and loose skin of her face. Thinning gray hairs snaked out from under her faded blue scarf, the curls jiggling as she broke a loaf of bread. “No worries for you, my little Ana. Take the bread. Eat. This black thing upon my back is still my burden and will remain so until I die.”

But Anahid knew something her grandmother did not.

The family curse was growing.

Having skipped a generation upon Anahid’s mother’s death, her grandmother had shouldered its burden too long. The thing bulged over the tiny woman and at times, Anahid could see it writhing, could smell the rancid “evil” of it. She could wait no longer.

“No, Lucine, that is not how it shall be.” Anahid straightened her small shoulders and touched one finger to her grandmother’s cheek.

In less effort than it took to chew the leavened bread, Anahid ripped the curse from the woman who had raised her from birth.

She felt the swooping pain of it clutch at her head before it draped like a hot, wet blanket over her back. She gasped, bent over and held back the screams racing up her throat as the thing burrowed under skin and seeped through muscle and bone. She watched her grandmother through the fall of her long, black curls.

The old woman’s eyes had gone wide, first with the use of her given name then with shock. “No, Ana! It must be received, not stolen! How is this possible?”

Anahid straightened, already adjusting to the pain she’d carry for a lifetime. “You were named for the moon, Grandmother. I, however, for the goddess who rules her. I’ve seen the path to vengeance.” She narrowed her eyes. “No future daughter of mine will bear this burden.”
Now, standing before the city, Anahid cursed the man who ruled its underworld. He who was responsible for the long, ruthless curse upon the women of her family. He who should not still live…yet did.She flipped the cigarette from the holder and pierced it under her heel. Tonight, Anahid would call upon the power of the Full Corn Moon and this time she would steal from him– his very last breath.
And now… For the next Picture… Oh, I love this one!!!!!!!!!! (And for my male readers, I promise the next pic will be less er, female. (g)) I simply had to post this one today. 

I’ve actually written this character before– but I’ll create something new for here. This is by Melissa Ng DeviantTrace . Remember, you can click on it to pull it up large– but do so after you’ve started the music. And now for the music… Roll It Up by The Crystal Method. Don’t worry, it’s the clean version. (g)

But I have a big, big tip. The Crystal Method’s CD, Tweekend, is the absolute best for writing fight scenes… or working out. Take you pick.




About Rinda Elliott

Writer.I love unusual stories and credit growing up in a family of curious life-lovers who moved all over the country. Books and movies full of fantasy, science fiction and romance kept us amused, especially in some of the stranger places. For years, I tried to separate my darker side with my humorous and romantic one. I published short fiction, but things really started happening when I gave in and mixed it up. When not lost in fiction, I love making wine, collecting music, gaming and spending time with my husband and two children. I’m represented by Miriam Kriss of the Irene Goodman Agency.
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