
Give yourself an imaginary gift.
Fantasize for a moment.
If money were no object. And time and place were non-issues. . .
What gift would you give yourself?

Give yourself an imaginary gift.
Fantasize for a moment.
If money were no object. And time and place were non-issues. . .
What gift would you give yourself?

It’s only five minutes. Go ahead. Do it now. We’ll wait.
Humming in the background while writing gets done.
Quiet while writing gets done.
Are you still reading? Write! Just write. For five minutes.
After five minutes . . .
Yes, you. Now. Just write. Go ahead. We’ll wait.
Waiting. Waiting. Patiently waiting. I’ll write, too.
After five minutes . . .
Hmm . . . what will you choose from nature to write about?
Feathers, rocks, trees, birds, rocks, dirt, peach blossoms, river, waterfall, penguins, geese.
Write whatever comes up for you about nature.
Shhh. . . Writers are working here. Doing what we do.
Writing. Just writing. Keep on writing. For five minutes.
Next . . .
Can use repetition.
Doesn’t have to make sense.
Have fun with this.
Play with words.

Picture the house or apartment you grew up in. If there was more than one house or apartment, choose one to focus on for this writing.
Imagine standing outside, looking at the door you usually entered. Stand outside for a moment.
Walk in and wander until you see a piece of furniture that speaks to you.
Describe the object.
Write about the memories and feelings it brings up for you.
Write until you feel done with this object.
Another time write about another object from your childhood or adolescence.
From the June 15 page:
The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart,
The secret anniversaries of the heart . .
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This is the traditional month for orange blossoms, lace, and rice, but wedding anniversaries aren’t on my mind. Today I am thinking of singular rites of passage, the secret anniversaries of the heart. These are the anniversaries we never talk about, kept in silence and apart. You might remember a first kiss, while I can’t forget the last time I held my father’s hand.
I was speaking to a good friend this morning on the telephone. She was enjoying the preparation of a special dinner for a marvelous new man in her life. Last year her marriage of twenty years ended and she says she’s grateful her husband told her he was leaving in late summer, when everything was withering on the vine. She says that she never would have gotten over it if he had left during the holidays. I think I know what she means, but I pray I never find out for sure. As she reminds me, it’s the “feel” of the year that can trigger a secret anniversary of the heart. Another friend recalls the ritual of her mother braiding her hair whenever she walks out into her backyard in the spring and the first lilacs are in bloom. There was always a bouquet of lilacs on her mother’s dressing table.
Secret anniversaries of the heart are not restricted by the passage of the years. . . . I need to share what I’ve held in my hart for so many decades but have never expressed. It took a secret anniversary of the heart to remind me that there is always time enough to remember. But there is never time enough to commemorate what we cherish, unless we pause to observe, when they occur, the holiest of all holidays.
Prompt: Write about a secret anniversary.
You can write about your personal experience, someone else’s
experience, or respond as your fictional character would respond.

Today’s writing prompt:
Opening line from Maxine Hong Kingston, The Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts:
“You must not tell anyone, my mother said, what I’m about to tell you.”
Or: You must not tell anyone . . .
Or: My mother said . . .

Today’s writing prompt: When I was a teenager, I especially loved to . . .
Or: When I was a teenager, I hated to . . .
Or, simply: When I was a teenager. . .
Just start writing and see where it takes you.

Picture yourself standing in a doorway.
What kind of light is in front of you?
What kind of light is behind you?
Set a timer for 15 minutes. And write.
Today’s writing prompt: Animal Crackers.
Set your timer for 15 minutes and write.


Write about the most formal event you have attended.
Or, write about the most loose, informal, or bizarre event you have attended.
Just write!
Do you have something special that belonged to someone who is no longer alive? Why is it meaningful to you?

Or write about something that is meaningful and why.