Prompts

Life . . . Prompt #770

More than one friend recently told me their difficulties, about how things seem impossible, how hard everything is. Sometimes I wonder why these things happen. And then I remember: Life.  Life happens. There are ups and downs. Situations that seem hopeless. And then time goes by. We find solutions. Or the situation remedies somehow. Write about a time that seemed hopeless. What happened? Or, if you are in a situation now that seems hopeless, write as if the problem has been resolved. What would your life look like if this situation was remedied? Writing About Difficult Times In Your Life by Guest Blogger Nancy Julien Kopp #justwrite #amwriting #iamawriter

Prompts

Chinese New Year . . . Prompt #767

Chinese New Year 2024 Year of the Dragon According to legend, Chinese New Year started with a mythical beast called the Nian (a beast that lives under the sea or in the mountains) during the annual Spring Festival. One year, the villagers decided to hide from the beast. An older man appeared before the villagers and said that he would stay the night and get revenge on the Nian. The old man put red papers up and set off firecrackers. The next day, the villagers returned and saw that nothing had been destroyed. They assumed that the old man was a deity who came to save them. The villagers learned that the old man discovered that the Nian was afraid of the color red and loud noises. The tradition grew as New Year approached. The villagers wore red clothes, hung red lanterns and red scrolls on windows and doors. They…

Sparks

Inflatable Snowman, A True Story

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Inflatable Snowman, A True Story By Su Shafer Across the street, the inflatable snowman is down laying on its side in the dirt by the porch its head still turning back and forth back and forth, back and forth looking from the cold black ground to the heavy belly of the leaden sky. It’s still smiling, but the smile seems  tentatively directed right at me silently saying “Hello?! No arms, no legs —  I’m not getting myself back on that porch!” and wondering why  I’m just standing here  Staring at it laying there  half deflated and helpless It starts to snow,  the only sound is the little motor in its head whirring, worrying  how bad is it going to get down here on the ground? Still smiling but desperate now. Why does she just stand there?…

Guest Bloggers

Freeing Your Creativity

Guest Blogger Suzanne Murray writes about: Freeing Your Creativity. Does it feel like your creativity is locked up tight in a box you are afraid to open? You put it in there long ago when your third grade teacher didn’t like your drawing or your father disapproved of you wasting your time writing poems or your grandmother told you that you didn’t have as good a singing voice as your sister. It happened to me in junior high school when my in my design class the teacher exclaimed about a drawing I actually really liked, “Suzanne, you can do better than that.” Decades later I’ve yet to pick up another drawing pencil. The Creative Self The creative self is a tender and vulnerable part of us, so it doesn’t take much to discourage it. I could have left the creative urge locked up with my drawing pad. Fortunately, I found…

Just Write

What informs your writing?

Excerpt from “The Dream Lover,” by Elizabeth Berg: “What once had been random observations and journal entries were becoming pieces of fiction that took on a kind of authority of their own. I learned that wind informed, that memory informed, that hopes and dreams did. So too, a fork on a plate, an unopened letter, the shine of wet on cobblestoned streets — all of these could help shape a story.” What informs your writing? Just write! #amwriting #justwrite #iamawriter

Sparks

Dream Weaver

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Dream Weaver By Sarah Horton I dreamed the world was a place of love and harmony . . . Dream Lover . . . What dreams may come You are my dream lover – thinking of my love, my sweet heart . . . (song pops into my head) Dream The snow is falling . . . hard. The air is thick with it . . . in my nose. I wander on the path while the winds blow.  I slip, and almost lose my footing.  The pathway is blurred from the flakes and wind blowing. Soon, there is no side view or peripheral vision.   Instantly, only one foot in front of the other and I think— if I keep moving it will clear.  Clearly, I now step ahead — one foot, then another, and another.  …

Prompts

What have you forgotten? . . . Prompt #766

Excerpt from “Happy to be Here,” by Elizabeth Berg. “Last time my friend Phyllis visited me, she said, ‘Don’t you ever comb your hair?’” “’I forget,’ I told her.” I laughed at that moment of recognition. Sometimes, during the day, I’ll glance at a mirror as I walk by and realize, “forgot to comb my hair.” Writing prompt: What have you forgotten? And then (obviously) remembered. Or: What might you have forgotten? Just Write!

Sparks

Shears

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Shears by Marian Van Horn I have been working on letting go of things that no longer serve me. Past hurts, painful experiences, things that cause me resentment or anger. Then I had this dream the other night.                                                          A small 5-year-old child is floating around a room. I am watching her. She is about a foot above the ground and moving effortlessly. She is focused on doing that and nothing else; enjoying the simple movement as children often do when absorbed in the present moment. When she floats by me, I ask, “How do you do that?” She looks down and says, “With these.” She pulls out a huge pair of silver shears. I am a little shocked because they are quite large and sharp and she’s only five years old, so I worry a bit,…