Write tweet-length romance, which we shall call Snap Love.
1) Give it plot and character development.
2) Make it romance.*
3) Hashtag it #snaplove
4) Tweet it!
4) If you like it, email it to me at email@example.com (or @ or D me at serenabellbooks) and I’ll add it to the official Snap Love collection.**
5) Don’t exceed 140 characters–actually 131, because you need the hashtag.
A sample: “I want you. Here? Yes. Take it off. But– Take it off. Self-consciousness vanishes in a flare of heat. Clothes slide to the floor. #snaplove”
*Deviation from this definition is acceptable and encouraged, but here’s a starting point.
**Management reserves the right to exclude otherwise brilliant entries if there’s some danger of Serena losing her wordpress.com privileges due to haggling over the definition of “pornography.” However, management pledges to err on the side of artistic freedom where possible.
A chance meeting; his eyes into hers. One touch; as if in passing. But both left knowing that they will meet again. #snaplove — bipolardaisies via DM on Twitter
@ 6, we played doctor. @ 16, he taught me to play nurse, then ran off w/a candy-striper. @ 28, we learned to play house together. #snaplove — ruthieknox via email
He came, he saw, he conquered. She cuffed him to the bed & stole his wallet. In the end, she didn’t need the cuffs to keep him. #snaplove — ruthieknox via Twitter
She wasn’t supposed to leave her room. He wasn’t allowed to leave his post. Neither could leave it alone. They left together. #snaplove — ruthieknox via Twitter
Mine are below:
1 night 2 met 3 times. 4 days later, he cited 5 reasons it couldn’t work. She counterattacked x6 & they spent the 7th day in bed. #snaplove
He loves the anonymous writer. He craves those sweet curves in philo class. His good fortune: They’re one and the same. #snaplove
You saw. You conquered. I came. You left. I chased. You ran. I pleaded. You yelled. I reasoned. You hid. I kissed. You yielded. #snaplove
He woke at dark core of night with a lifetime’s accumulated fears. Only this time she was there to whisper, “Not your fault.” #snaplove
Twice divorced in eight years and there has still been nothing like the heat in your car those high school nights. You, too? #snaplove
He’s done with chill resistance. She’s done with stammered awkward blind intros. The deed’s done on his kitchen table. Done deal. #snaplove
I want you. Here? Yes. Take it off. But– Take it off. Self-consciousness vanishes in a flare of heat. Clothes slide to the floor. #snaplove
I wept in my bunk at camp until you kissed me by the side of the lake. The rest of the summer passed in a blur of stealth & lust. #snaplove
Hating you means I’m always thinking of you. I’m an unlit fuse. It would take so little, just that sidelong smile, to set me off. #snaplove
They vowed they wouldn’t date because their circle was too small. They went to Hawaii separately but came home an item. #snaplove
She slept with every man in Boston. He watched. Then one day he’d had enough, and he peeled her naked, slowly. #snaplove
Like this? Yeah. No one’s ever talked to me *during* before. Really? I like it. And I like the look in your eyes when you like it. #snaplove