Friday, August 31, 2007

August 31 Prompt

Good morning Writers.
I'm thinking of changing the days of our prompts. I know that some of you don't get around to read and write them on Mondays and Fridays.
I seem to have Mondays that leave little time to write. The prompts might come on Sunday, Monday or Tuesday and Friday.

"How much more cruel the pen may be than the sword."
--Robert Burton

What is the first recollection of someone doing something nice for you? I read about a man that said his grandfather built him a kite out of paper and some scraps of wood.
the author said that this act of his grandfather's was the first he could remember.
Can you remember when someone did something nice for you? How far back can you remember? Remembering is like retracing your steps when you have lost something or misplaced your keys. Start with one act of niceness and go back to another one.
After you have made notes and written about the different things you can remember, write a poem, short story or non fiction piece about the nice things or your remembering them.

After I read about the author's grandfather my mind jumped to things that my grandfather did for me. He was strict and harsh, but whenever I went to his house for the day, or weekend I'd have so much fun. He was building something for my grandmother once and there were scraps of wood at the base of his table saw. I think he was worried I'd get hurt. I was hanging around the saw and playing with the sawdust. ( I was about 7 or 8 years old.) He pulled out some nails, an old hammer and gave me the wood scraps. "Here, go build something of your own. and get out of the way."
I didn't know what to do. The wood was all different shapes and he was building "something" wonderful. I hammered a few nails in one piece of wood, knowing that I could never really make anything. As I played with the wood I saw furniture in the pieces and how I stacked them. I built a bed for my Barbie doll. It was a very crude bed, one you might find in a crude mountain cabin.
I built other things with the wood and was sorry when the scraps ran out. My grandfather recognized what I had built and he praised me for what I was able to come up with.
I will always remember those kind words. I knew he really meant what he said and the rest of his harness was softened a bit.

Hope you all have a good weekend and say cool.
Drink lots of water and don't go out in the heat of the day.
This message brought to you by, Dr. Possecoullie.


Friday, August 24, 2007

August 24 Prompt

Hello Writers,
"Memory is a net."
--Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

A pair of black velvet shoes hung onto me. I was deeply in love with them. I can't remember now why my parents would buy me such a frivolous thing, but I wore them to something special, and then wanted to wear them every day. I'd come home from school, take off my school clothes, and play dress up. The clothes I'd put together were anything but chic, but I always finished the garb with the black velvet shoes. To me they really were the only thing that mattered.
When the shoes were no longer nice enough for special occasions, I wore the them every where. My mom had given me permission, so I took it. I wore them every day and even put the shoes under my pillow at night.
I'd have wonderful dreams of princesses and queens. There were balls and parties where me and my shoes were the attention.
My mom, being the killer of all joy, told me one day that the shoes had given into their end. They were too old and the construction was so broken that, my wonder shoes would kill my feet if I continued to wear them. I was forbidden to every put them on my feet again. As an act of defiance I continued to sleep with the black velvet shoes under my pillow for the dreams that they seemed to bring. I still used them for dress up and -- if no one was looking -- I'd sneak out of the house with the shoes and change into them to go to school and to feed our animals. I didn't see what my mom saw, the shoes were decomposing with every step. I only notice that every time I wore the shoes my feet would hurt.
I didn't take my wonderful shoes to school one day. I thought I'd be kind and give the poor old things a rest. When I got home the shoes were gone.
My mom had thrown them away. I found the beautiful things in the incinerator, waiting to be burned the next day. I rescued the shoes and took them to my room to clean the soot off and hide the poor shoes in my closet. The next day I found them in the compost pile. It was hard to get rid of the potato peelings and the smell of old coffee grounds. I used an old brush in the garage to scrub my black velvet shoes, that now looked like there would be no reviving them.
Before I went to school the next day, I pleaded with my mom not throw the shoes away. I promised that I'd never wear them again, but I just wanted them for the dreams. Eventually, she gave in.
A few months later I threw the black velvet shoes away. My mom had bought me a pair of lilac satin shoes for a wedding I was to be a flower girl in. And they were gorgeous!

When you write for this prompt, choose: a red velvet dress and how you feel when you wear it. How someone looks in the dress. What you would do for a red velvet dress. You hate red velvet. Red velvet with a blood stain, ( for the thriller writers).
Have a good weekend and don't forget about the CWC meeting on Saturday. Boarders Montclair, 10:15 am

Monday, August 20, 2007

August 20 Prompt

Good Evening Writers,
I feel like Hitchcock.
Wild morning for me today. So I hope that you don't mind that I'm writing in the cool of the evening.
It's still Monday, right?

"No matter how individual we humans are, we are a composite of everything we are aware of. We are a mirror of our times."
--Louise Nevelson

My son, Eric has many of my dad's traits. Eric even looks like my side of the family. Our son, Brandon looks like his dad. A big happy go lucky Swede. Eric has a short temper and is wiry. He's tall and slim and loves to eat anything Italian. Brandon is slow to anger and eats, white bread and potatoes. He's tall too, but built like his dad. Sorta a small linebacker. The things we inherit from our parents and grandparents we don't get to choose. All those weird and wonderful things that came from a family member we might not have ever met. I have a little toe nail that is split down the center, just like my grandmother. It's almost like we have extra lives like cats. There are pieces of us and our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles that live on. We don't choose those things but we do choose the clubs, friends, communities, and organizations that we associate with. Do you belong to the PTA, Kiwanis, CA Writers Club, a church? These groups you choose to belong to. How many groups or clubs do you attend? Are they all the same? Do you enjoy the group you are a part of?
These organizations and your family reflect in your writing. They are a part of you and you don't even realize how they influence your work. I have found that I love to watercolor paint hardware things like washers and bolts. I enjoy making them look old and rusted. My dad was an electrician and my grandfather was a carpenter/plumber. I might have got something from them.
Paint with words today, the things that come from the family, clubs and groups you belong to.
Did you go to a family reunion this summer? Did you see some cousins that look just like you? Did you join a new club? Are you active in a club? Or do you sit and take it all in? (Not a bad place to gather writing material.)
Hope you all have a good week.
Keep writing!
Don't forget the CWC meeting this Saturday.

Friday, August 17, 2007

August 17 Prompt

Hi Everyone,

"I don't think anything is the opposite of love."

--Anne Lamott

And in the end...
Endings are things the we don't want to "give away". Don't read the ending first. If you know the ending you might not want to read the book, see the movie, or go to the play.
But today we are going to write nothing but endings.
Ending for plays, poems, short stories, etc. I hope that you feel free enough to go a little crazy with this. It can be a lot of fun and sometimes very revealing.

So...what is your favorite book? Or pick something that you don't care for. But it needs to be something that you know. Something that you remember.
Now, rewrite the ending. If need be go back and check the book and maybe use one of the last sentences to give you a jumping off place.
And really jump. If the book is an old classic make the ending a Si-Fi, if it's a humor story, make the ending a blood and gore ending.

Let me, or your other writer friends know what you re wrote and if you had any fun.

Have a great weekend and hope you stay cool.
Remember to KEEP WRITING!!

Sunday, August 12, 2007

August 13 Prompt

Hello Writers.
"Difficulties are just things to overcome, after all."
--Ernest Shackleton

Today is about something spelled wrong.
But you need to write about the tension around the misspelling.
Think about buying a birthday cake for someone very special. The bakery misspells the name on the cake. You pick the cake up, and without looking at it you rush off to the party. You are late and the party is a surprise. When you get to the party the other guests hurry you into the kitchen with the cake. No one looks at the cake until it's time to light the candles. Someone then notices the misspelling.
Set your timer for 15 minuets and write about the the tension around trying to "fix" the mistake, or leaving it alone and what could be said to the birthday person.
What do you do? Write about your feelings and what others are saying.

Other ideas; a road sign that is misspelled, directions to a lawyer's office, your name misspelled on your driver license, some misspelling on an important report to you boss.
You get the idea.

Here's to a good week. Hope you all make time to write. If not every day at least 2 times a week.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Auguast 10 Prompt

Good morning Writers.
Did you have a good week? I for one, am so glad that it has been a bit cooler. My house and dog sitting job goes on until Monday. In some ways I'm glad that it is ending.
It's weird to sleep in someone else's home when you hardly know them and it's even weirder to sleep there when they aren't there. My daughter is taking care of 5 animals at another home and spends her nights there. She is doing much better with this than I am.

"The moon develops creativity as chemicals develop photographic images."
--Norma Jean Harris

Many times poets use photographs for inspiration. There are many stories in one image. Texture, story, and colors can incite ideas. Then if the viewer has a connection to the photo, or another experience, that brings another connection.
In honor of Laura's poetry swap and our photographers in the group, take out a photo from a trip and recall the day, time, mood, and anything else you can come up with.
Was it a warm day/night? Who is in the photo? Did you take it and where you taking it for the place or the people in the photo? Can you remember the feeling or the experience of what the place is like?
You can compose and image and/or idea.

Today or when you sot down to write next time, take out one of your photos and look at it closely. Study it and see what comes to mind. Write down words or phrases and after a few minuets put the photo away and read the things you wrote.

If you need a photo go to Katheryn's or Cyndy's photos. Click on the link to the right next to this post.
There is much inspiration there. If you can form a free verse poem, do it! Send it to a writing buddy and see if they can send you one back.
Or if a whole story comes out...good! Send that to Laura for Fresh Ink.
Take a good 15 minuets for yourself and write. You deserve to write because you are a writer.
Have a great weekend and

Monday, August 6, 2007

August 6 Prompt

Good morning Writers,
Sorry I didn't post anything for Friday, 8/3/07.

"What I fear in writing is the safe decision."
--Anne Rice

I use to worry what people thought about my writing. Now I write what I want. It's not to say that I don't care about what people think, it's about writing from my gut.
Somethings seem like I'm writing in the zone. I talked about that before. But if I try too hard and wonder what people might think I'm not writing in the zone. Funny, I thing that's why I keep doing the prompts. I've asked before if you would like changes but I only get one e mail back so I keep going. I do hope that this is still working for you and that you can use these prompts. So don't be safe. Write me and let me know how things are going, in your life, the prompts, the pets, whatever.

Speaking of pets, I'm pet sitting a dog that is a "scaredy cat". She is big and lean. But I have to spend the night at her house because she "can't be alone."
So every night I pack my overnight bag and go spend the night with Diana. She won't go outside without me. If she has to "go", she will wait until I go out in the back yard with her. In the house at night I thought she'd bark if there where noises. But she looks up and acts interested, and then looks at me as to say, "So, you going to go check on that?" If I don't move she drops her head back to the floor and goes back to sleep.
But, when we go for a walk she is strong and confident. She pulls the retractable leash all the way out and acts like she is walking me. Diana carries her head high and trots with her chest puffed out. I feel and look weak compared to her. I wonder if it is the "secure thing." Being tied to me she has twice the power so to speak. It's like a united front; we walk together and she knows I'm right behind her. Diana is not afraid to go up to other dogs. She pulls and barks to show she is confident.
I guess there is something to be said about tying things together for more strength.

Today write about safety. Or being safe. the feeling of not being safe. What did it feel like? When you feel safe what is that like?

Have a great week.
And keep writing.