We enjoyed the Guess the Gender game so much we thought we'd start something new.

Writing should be like playing music or athletics- to be good, you have to keep practising. And that doesn't always mean crafting the perfect story/novel/poem/screenplay, but also flexing your creative muscles with fun exercises.

Here's one we thought you guys might like:

Write a very very short piece, no more than 200 words. The deal is, though, you've got to base it around at least one cliche- and make sure you include that cliche in the story itself. The rest is up to you- you could use as many cliches as you like, but the key is to be inventive, try and find a new perspective on the words. How do several cliches sound when they're strung together? out of context? used in dialogue?

Have a go!

John was as sick as a parrot. Polyomavirus, to be precise. Dr Jones had told John that whilst it was rare, it was not the first time a human had been infected with the disease and, whilst it was fatal to infant parrots, it was relatively harmless to humans. “Laughter is the best medicine” said the doctor as he wrote out a prescription for two cans of the stuff.

John took the prescription to the counter, and handed it to the nurse. She took a look at it before disappearing for several minutes, returning with two small cans. “That’s £13” she said, holding her hand out in waiting for the cash. Of course John was spitting feathers upon hearing this, but that was just one of the downsides of working in an aviary, the feathers got everywhere.

bj - that's a big 10 out of 10 from me! Fantastic!! Made me giggle quite a lot

Class and humourous as always.

"pld Meka! Give this man a GAD!" as they say.

John was used to drinking in fact his mates said he could drink like a fish. He had always liked a drink ever since he was about 14, but now at the grand old age of 22 he was getting bored with going down the pub every night and getting as pissed as a newt., then staggering up the road to the chip hole for a cod and a portion demolishing it like a rabid dog and then visting the old porcelein telephone on the way home.

By the time he arrived home, he was usually over the worst and after a quick cup of Rosie Lee, he would collapse like a pack of cards onto the sofa. He would sleep like a log only to be woken by his other half when she came in from working like a slave at the local hospital

Tracey would ask how his night as she stripped off before going for a quick shower. John would busy himself in the kitchen making breakfast, and just as he was serving it up Tracey would appear as fresh as a daisy, to a well earned breakfast and then up to bed and the land of nod.

John would shower dress and go off to work himself, their lives as regular as a clock and about as exciting as watching paint dry.

Here she was, cheesed off, down in the dumps and without two brass farthings to rub together, and now to top it all there was a bump the size of a pigeon’s egg coming up on her forehead.

‘Nice trip?’ enquired Sam tongue in cheek, grinning like a Cheshire cat from his perch on top of the washing machine.

‘Watch your tongue,’ she said. ‘I’ve had enough of your sauce, wipe that smile off your face this instant, or I shan’t be responsible for my actions.’

‘You’ll have to catch me first,’ he countered quick as a flash, thumbing his nose at her, 'you know I can run like the wind, but you’ve got two left feet, and anyway you’ve had one too many.

Pen let out a screech like a banshee. ‘You little devil – just you wait till I get my hands on you. You’ll wish you’d never been born!’ But all she saw was a clean pair of heels as the apple of her eye rushed through the open door and disappeared into the night.

The thing about clichés, thought Pen, is that all the good ones have already been invented.

but you’ve got two left feet, and anyway you’ve had one too many

I particularly like this - 2 cliches that overlap and create a third unintended meaning ( as in 'you've got one too many left feet' ) - brilliant! That's the sort of silly thing people say - without thinking - all the time.

The last line's very witty as well. Worthy of Oscar Wilde

This is my second one, sorry, but this was such fun! No more, promise.

Her skin shone pale as ivory in the still of the night, her cloak white as the driven snow. Light as thistledown, her feet barely touching the ground she drifted aimlessly on the winds of fortune, her forehead cool as the cucumber in her pocket.

Like ships that pass in the night, she thought as she saw him approaching, but as their eyes met he beckoned to her. Her feet had wings as she rushed into his waiting arms, and he folded her in his warm embrace and kissed her tenderly. I’m head over heels in love and over the moon, she thought, but all too soon her dreams turned to dust.

‘Did you bring the cucumber?’ he said, and she watched, eyes wide with wonder as he bent over backwards to extract it.

‘How did you guess it was there?’ she said.

‘A little bird told me,’ he replied.

Thanks for the kind words, and having a line thought worthy of Oscar Wilde is definitely a first!

Just realised 'white as the driven snow' is wrong. How unobservant am I? I should have written 'white as snow'.

Fantastic efforts by all of you- but I'm particularly struck by nell's romance, because I fear that there are books- whole book-s written in this vein. And now it's impossible to think or speak without resorting to a cliche myself. Doesn't it show, though, how easy it would be to slip into that way of writing? Be warned! But great fun to read.

The exercise certainly made me more aware of how dangerous cliches are - the writing becomes trite and stale.

I thought I'd try to create a slightly surreal scenario with the second one, but I think I need to become a better writer first!

No- the cucumber was delightful and surreal enough for me, maybe we've started a new, bizarre but addictive genre? What do you think?

I found it quite difficult to do it's one thing writing something and throwing in the odd cliche but to compose a piece full of cliches is not, contrary to popular opinion, as easy as falling off a log

i think any sort of excercise which requires you to loook at writing from a different angle is useful

How about an exercise where we join forces and each write a small section of a combined effort, things like that can get very surreal and sometimes we do it anyway with our answers to each other on the forums.