It's a bit different, though, since when you're writing a story for players you're not necessarily trying to write a good bit of fiction but aid the players in imagining a fictional world with opportunity for interaction and improv. Below is a sample of some fictional writing for a game I'm running as a DM.
Addendum: signing up for a creative writing class. I need some initial structure for getting started on fiction-writing.
Outside Gammage Hill:
You approach the City of Gammage Hill. On the outskirts of town, you espy a well-kept painting of a Golden Nymph with a few tasteful wisps of cloth and the lettering "Welcome to Gammage Hill." A low wall surrounds the city and a gate signals point of entry.
A (bored) guard in an ill-fitting helmet and sporting several days' worth of stubble steps in front of the gate and says: HO! What is your business in the town of Gammage Hill?
[Player exchanges - if a player retorts 'WHO'RE YOU CALLIN' A HO!? a bird poops on that player's head.]
If they head to Whim Woods after conversing with the guard:
The guard lazily leans against his post and chews a bit of baccy. You feel his remarkably keen green eyes follow you as you turn your back to him and head into Whim Woods.
As you leave the outskirts of the city, the trees crowd around you – stark white and mottled by brown or black spots (Aspen with bits of moss clinging like slugs to the side). They stand tall and thin, their yellowed leaves whispering as they drift down to blanket the earth. You hear small woodland creatures sporting around you and glimpse a family of foxes through the foliage. The smell of cold winter lingers as a promise on your nostrils. As you tramp along, you wonder about this woman with pre-shadowing, Shammy Tam. Suddenly [Roll against perception, as a group], loud guttural yells assault your ears as X men jump out from the bushes and attack you! [Encounter with thugs]
Shammy Tam's House:
You come across a small house in the midst of a clearing. A tidy herb garden in front looks like it could use a watering. A gravel path leads up to the door. Over the lintel, a vine twists and snakes in a braided pattern (boogievilla – so called because it boogies in the wind). The vine is already brown.
You open the door and stand for a second, stunned. Torn bits of cushion, ripped books, shattered glass bottles, and upended furniture [bench/table/bookcases] are strewn wildly around the room. Obviously, this was some sort of leisure/study room.
The bedroom looks undisturbed. There is a predominant theme of frogs going on. Carved wooden frogs of all shapes and sizes are positioned in the room (one is holding a cocktail glass) and the comforter even has embroidered frogs on it. A set of drawers are by the bed (full of breeches/tunics/undergarments/a few jewelry trinkets [frog earrings]), a book is on the drawers, and the bookcase is full of trashy romance novels including the famous "Her Desire" - part of the famous trilogy: Her Desire, His Desire, Its Desire. There is a window with some potted plants that look like they need watering. The window is open, providing you with a view of the back of the house where you see a shack.
Back of House
In back, some ways removed from the house, there is a small rickety shack with a closed door that looks like it holds one person. ---- if they approach ---- a terrible stench hits you and you make a constitution saving throw. ---- if they open the door ---- it’s an outhouse. An embroidered cloth hangs above the toilet ‘if you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie.’ A thick book is on the toilet seat (collected works of Tovsky) and about half the pages are ripped out.]
The kitchen appears to be undisturbed. There is a hearth with wood stacked next to it and a small wood table. It smells rich in here. Copper pans, braided garlic, and sides of cured meat hang from the ceiling. A set of shelves has some bags on it (rice/flour/etc.).