Character Sketch . . . Prompt #703

Instead of New Year’s Resolutions, how about writing a character sketch, either about yourself, or about your fictional characters. Finish the following sentences as your fictional character would, or for yourself, perhaps a new way of looking at old ideas. “Character Sketch” My full name is: I live at or near: I live with: Today I want: Today I hope: I am happiest when: I daydream about: If I had my way: I don’t understand: What I could do is: Sometimes I think: If I were in charge: I get angry when: People wouldn’t like it if they knew: If only we had enough: A person can’t be happy unless: I never told anyone that I: Five years ago: Five years from now: “Character Sketch” by  B. Lynn Goodwin, Writer Advice The idea of using Lynn’s “Character Sketch” as inspiration for a new way of looking at old ideas is…


It’s a wrap . . . Prompt #701

Write an end-of-the-year letter. One you might send, or would never send. You can capture how the year was for you, where you went, why you went there, what happened on that trip. Or, it might be “I didn’t go anywhere and I didn’t do anything.” You can write about a friend or a family member. Or write about goals achieved, accomplishments met, or what was disappointing. Just Write! #amwriting #iamawriter #justwrite



Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Smiling By Jenny Beth Schaffer Smiling, after a certain age, is an act of boldness and an invitation to danger because already there are enough lines and wrinkles in your face that the very last thing you want to do is aggravate the problem. Because as everyone knows perfectly well, each smile takes a tiny toll on the elasticity, the buttery lacquer of your already anxious countenance. It’s a high-risk situation, this smile or not smile gambit, one requiring the weighing of the pros and cons, and typically you have just milliseconds to make the decision. Look no further than Wile E. Coyote to understand the consequences of split second decisions.  Someone passes on the street, a stranger perhaps, casting the sunshine of their toothiness in your direction. What. Do. You. Do? It calls for a…


Healing Starts When You . . .

“Healing starts when you write about what happened and how you felt about it then, and how you feel about it now. And in order for our writing to be a healing experience, we need to honor our pain, loss and grief.” — “Opening Up By Writing It Down” by James Pennebaker “The Write Spot: Writing as a Path to Healing” has an expansive section on how to write about difficult subjects without adding trauma.


One Shrug for Chocolate Chip and Two for Peanut Butter

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. One Shrug for Chocolate Chip and Two for Peanut Butter By Robin Mills Olive made her way slowly down the aisle. The Canyon Country Store was older than even her grandma. It had been there when the road that snaked up and over the hill from the valley side to the city side was just dirt. The floors creaked, oak rubbing oak. When the 3:00 bell rang, most kids piled onto the stubby-nosed yellow bus, the small kind, not the long sleek yellow bus with rounded edges. There were not enough kids up in the canyon to warrant a big bus like that, so they got the small version. But Olive preferred to walk. It gave her a chance to look at things and even occasionally find something another walker had unknowingly dropped. And when she…

Just Write

270 Park Avenue

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. 270 Park Avenue By Karen Handyside Ely 270 Park Avenue Crowed sidewalk. Manhattan energy. Staccato heels slap on the pavement. Collars pulled high to shield numb earlobes. Heads down, eyes forward. We are missiles on a mission as the flinty sky threatens snow. A teeming line of ants, racing the storm. No exit ramps on Park, just a continuous flow of determined arrows. All in a hurry to beat the flurry. Up ahead, one woman stops Creating a ripple, a log jam, startling the herd. Bending down, she speaks in warm puffs to the man shivering on the curb. They exchange words, unheard but plainly visible. Breath bubbles above their heads. She hands him her coffee still steaming in her to-go cup, and walks on. Movement begins anew, ever forward, but smiles appear on New York…