Just Write

Warm-ups

You have ideas what to write about. But how do you get started? Do you sit at your computer, fingers poised above the keyboard . . . ready. . . but your mind swirls, goes blank. . . at a loss how to get started.

How about starting your writing time like many famous author do? With warm-ups, using writing prompts.

There are many blogs and websites with ideas for writing. One of them is my interactive blog, The Write Spot Blog. You can post your writing (~600 words) and receive comments on your writing.

You can also use prompts posted on my Facebook Writing Page and writing prompts on my website. http://www.thewritespot.us/writingprompt.html

The joy of writing freely . . . that’s what these prompts are about.

How do you start your writing time? What are your rituals? Your writing habits?  Or, do you Just Write?

Lola.200

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2 comments

  1. Ke11y

    Match.com

    So tell me… ‘Ms. I’m looking for Mr. Right’ what about the men like me? A humble piece of wood in a forest of Pines. What in the world might a man like me say to a woman like you: Here I am! Here on your screen, the man you dream of, more powerful, more articulate, more devastating; a man in a world of warriors, supreme, majestic, a man who walks easily among men, and all this time I’ve been looking for you, challenging other men who can, with a single clap of their hands, offer you Paris, complete with Bistros, flowers, wine, outdoor book shops, and then, with another, offer you Rickshaws and Rangoon, a thousand more claps, and with each something new, something unbelievable.

    Yet…I never appeared.

    So it leaves just me. The one man, the only man who can hold you the way the shoreline holds the ocean, the man whose smile will burst open your sky. Tell me, then, tell me I’m the one, and I won’t look right or left as I hurry down the Rue de la Paix, or dodge traffic on Fifth Avenue, stop for a newspaper crossing Piccadilly Circus on my way to Trafalgar Square, never once looking sideways, walking past seventy years of mistakes, knowing you are waiting, and everything I hear is joy and laughter as I walk toward you; a woman who wears her heart bright red, waiting to finish her love with a man from that never returning time.

    You see…it’s just me, a simple piece of wood wanting to be a violin.

    1. mcullen Post author

      Smiling here. Beautiful and fun writing. . . love the pacing. . . builds steam and doesn’t disappoint. Hear me clapping my hands in rhythm with this piece and clapping for the joy of reading something so beautifully written. I think you use words magically, Kelly, like a violinist who can make a piece of wood sing. . . you do that with words.

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