Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Traditions Rebecca Olivia Jones Grandma used flashing colorful lights and handfuls of tinsel like a grotesque costume on her Christmas tree. I loved its tacky design. I watched it before I fell asleep on the couch the night before our Boxing Day. My brother chose to sleep on the floor to be nearer the presents waiting under and all around the tree. Grandma was very democratic in her gift giving to all her younger grandchildren. Five of us were one year apart; Pam 10, Becky 9, Patrick 8, Byron 7, and Danny 6. We each received a large box filled with a bunch of recycled smaller boxes. Grandma would even re-use Tampax boxes for the smallest gifts. Pam and I were thrilled to receive, for example, a doll, a rhinestone necklace, fuzzy slippers and a box…


Winter Solstice 2021

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Winter Solstice 2021 By M.A. Dooley This blessed day when the light returns, I stand on the mountain of my home  Grounded at 7:59 AM and look up.  The round moon wanes floating over  Saucer clouds docked in the west.  A soft haze hangs between me and my Shire, Layered hillocks of veiled emerald,  Taste wet and lush as if the drought is over.  The sun rises behind a filter of grey Cotton balls connected at fluffy centers like  Fat caterpillars in the sky.  When the time rings for a celestial split,  A tear in the cotton, A thin sliver of blue blinks open  And the sun sears my eyes  Carving the womb of awakening. I am the field of green softened by one ray, I am the strong back of the moon,  Light as the…


A Little Louder, Please

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. A Little Louder, Please Susan Zahl Bono Christmas 2005 I must be going deaf. It’s the season when yuletide TV ads are louder and brighter than the shows they’re interrupting, but I don’t seem to be hearing their message. December is swinging into its second week and I haven’t bought any presents. Last weekend, my husband wrestled the fake tree into the living room and wrapped it with lights, but if that’s as far as we get, I’m not going to be heartbroken about it. At night with those little lights glowing, I can almost forget the ornaments are missing. These are my dark ages. My kids are too old to believe in Santa and too young to make grandchildren. They stopped caring about trees and holiday trappings about the time we gave in to their…


Silence For The Soul

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Silence For The Soul By Sarah Horton Silence for the Soul  is our tradition, created to welcome us into the deeper doorways to the heart. It is timed around the changing of the seasons. We gather in silence for a variety of meditation practices as individual as the people who come:  sitting, walking the labyrinth, indoors, outdoors, eyes open, eyes shut, journaling, more sitting. We start with intention and breathing together. We end by coming together in a circle for the breaking of bread, homemade soup, and soft sharing.   I have been doing this on a regular basis with two other friends of the heart since the “2012 ending-of-the-world” or simply an ending. This was our new-beginning-offering and continues as one. There will be anywhere from the three-of-us regulars to fifteen other souls to hold the circle of magic and light…


Dinner Lines

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Dinner Lines By M.A. Dooley Empty lines without a script, Two old lovers sit stiff like bricks   Empty lines planked blue wood top, Inviting ages of warmth and weight.   Warmth and weight, young bricks cool, Purpose wanted held at bay.   Warmth and weight, mason’s hands Stack staggered bonds, build a wall.   Build a wall, the server piles Flowers, wine, the table splits.   Build a wall to be broken down With drink, pleasure, taste and texture.   Taste and texture laughter blooms, Edges soften like molten stone.   Taste and texture spills red wine Dripping, seeping fills empty lines.   Empty lines, hushed hands held, Old lovers’ warmth and weight meld.  M.A. Dooley is an architect and writer from the Santa Cruz Mountains, Sonoma County, and the Sierra Nevadas. Dooley has been…


Appositives . . . Prompt #622

Part 1 Finish the sentences: When I was ten years old, I . . . As a young adult, I wanted . . . To get what I wanted, here’s what I did . . . Here’s what happened . . . My recurring dream . . . Part 2 After your freewrite on any or all of the above sentence starts, rewrite, using “add-ons” or “appositives.” An appositive is a word or group of words that add detail to the original. They can be in the same sentence, or a new sentence. For example: 1. I rode my bicycle. 2. I rode my bicycle on a hot summer day. I looked behind me. Sure enough, my sister was following. Just Write! #amwriting @creative writing #justwrite #iamawriter

Just Write

Get past ego to connect

“I think American society alienates us from ourselves, and we have a great need to reconnect. Human beings yearn to connect and to tell our stories before we die. Sometimes we want to write, but when we get down to it, there’s resistance, because the ego gets scared.” — Natalie Goldberg in an interview with Genie Zeiger, “Keep The Hand Moving,” The Sun November 2003. Ideas on how to get past ego and Just Write The Inner Critic Tar Pit of Doom and Despair Is “Go Big or Go Home” Right for You? Rachel Macy Stafford: Live Love Now #amwriting #creativewriting #justwrite #freewrites