Write about your favorite job . . . paid or volunteer. Or: Your first job or first volunteer work Or: Write about a job you would never want to do.
Writers: Open doors to flights of imagination
“. . . the urge to be a writer is a generous act at its core: we want to share our story with others, to give them a world that will open doors to insights and flights of the imagination.” — Grant Faulkner Excerpted from “Sharing stories, sharing yourself,” from Grant’s Substack newsletter on writing and creativity, “Intimations: A Writer’s Discourse.” Grant: As a boy, I spent my allowance on all sorts of pens and paper, so there was never much question I would become a writer. I received my B.A. from Grinnell College in English and my M.A. in Creative Writing from San Francisco State University. It seems like I should have other degrees, such as an MFA in Novels about People Doing Nothing But Walking Around, a PhD in Collages and Doodles and Stick Drawings of Fruitless Pursuits, or a Knighthood in Insomniac Studies, but I don’t.
Best Day . . . Prompt #793
Writing Prompts: Best Day Ever! OR: Imagine a Best Day Ever #justwrite #iamawriter #iamwriting
Sense of Accomplishment . . . Prompt #792
What gives you a sense of accomplishment? #justwrite #iamawriter #iamwriting
Stan and the Moon Shadow
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Stan and the Moon Shadow By Su Shafer It was THE SOLAR ECLIPSE DAY! When he got out of bed, the moon was moving in the sky. As it always was, of course, but with more excitement that day than usual. It was common place for the moon to be seen in the daytime, but today It would meet the sun face to face and wear its fiery crown, as The Earth looked on, far below. It was a big day for the moon, but for Stanley, not so much. Just another passing shadow added to a life Where everything was painted with a leaden umbra. When he opened his eyes, his room overflowed with a dull gloom More than darkness, as if the blackness in his dreams spilled Out of his…
Yearnings . . . Prompt #791
As a child, what toys or games did you see advertised on TV, or in the Sears Roebuck catalogue, that you wanted and didn’t get? OR: What toys did you want that your friends had and you didn’t have? OR: Write about being jealous, or feelings of “have not.” OR: Yearnings: Then or now. Frances Lefkowitz wrote a wonderful memoir, “To Have Not.” #justwrite #iamawriter #iamwriting
Your Creative Self is Eager to Explore
Today’s Guest Spot goes to Suzanne Murray. I recently watched a video of a 42-year-old neurosurgeon from California who dances for his patients to cheer them up during their check-ups. He gets them dancing too, including a young woman in a wheelchair seen waving her arms and shimmying her chair. I love that this doctor had found such a creative way to tend his patients spirits as well as their bodies. I imagine it’s a great help to their healing. It has me thinking more about how being creative can help heal our world. Creativity allows us to access new ways of looking at a problem and find fresh solutions. We touch expanded capacities and find ourselves capable of more than we think. We connect more to our heart and spirit. We are often surprised and delighted by the unexpected inspirations that arrive. We can learn to bring the creative…
Your latest acquisition . . . Prompt #790
Write about your latest acquisition. Was it a need? Or a want? OR: Write about your oldest possession. #justwrite #iamwriting #iamawriter
The reason writers write
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Today’s Sparks is an excerpt from Sally A. Kilgore’s Blog, Daybits. Three years ago, I fed Bob Kilgore his breakfast and he hopped up in the kitchen window to sunbathe. I sat at the kitchen table with my cappuccino, wondering what we had done. We had uprooted from a place we’d been for close to twenty years, a shady place of green lawn, a hilly yard, and the comfort of good neighbors. We had decided to downsize our home and build something fresh and new while we were at it. So, I sat in the new kitchen with Bob, sunlight blazing in, a sodded backyard, boxes to be unpacked. Our home – Mildred – was an island in a construction zone, surrounded by mud, with a porta potty next door. We’d been deliriously happy, the house…
If you could be small . . . Prompt #789
Writing Prompt: If you could make yourself small, what would you do? #justwrite #iamawriter #iamwriting