Write A New Story . . . Prompt #356

  • Write A New Story . . . Prompt #356

    Ready to explore? Today’s writing prompt invites you to look at your old stories in new ways. Perhaps you can rewrite your story.

    Excerpt from October 2016 Reader’s Digest, “Down Off The Cross,” by Debra Jarvis, a chaplain and cancer survivor.

    “Let’s say I meet you on a bus. We really hit it off, but I’ve got to exit soon, so you’re going to tell me three things about yourself that help me understand who you are, that get at your essence.”

    Note from Marlene: Prompt:  List three things that define you.

    Back to the article:

    “Of those three things, is one of them surviving some kind of trauma, like being a cancer survivor, a war survivor, or an abuse survivor?”
    Note from Marlene: Or perhaps you are currently experiencing a difficulty or a trauma.

    Back to the article:    “Many of us tend to identify ourselves by our wounds.

    Claim your experience; don’t let it claim you.

    The way to cope with trauma, loss, or any other life-changing experience is to find meaning. But here’s the thing: No one can tell us what that meaning is. We have to decide what it means. And that meaning can be quiet and private—we don’t need to start a foundation, write a book, or work on a documentary. Instead, perhaps we make one small decision about our lives that can bring about big change.

    If you find yourself repeating your survivor story: Get down off your cross.

    When you repeat your survivor story, you aren’t processing your feelings—you are feeding them.

    Let your old story go so that a newer, truer story can be told about who you are.

    Claim your trauma as an experience instead of taking it on as your identity.

    It could mean the end of being trapped by your wounds and the start of defining yourself by who you are becoming.

    We’re all on this bus together. What story are you going to tell?”

    Note from Marlene: Prompt: Write a new story about what defines you.

     

    Marlene C

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  • A time you felt free to be you . . . Prompt #355

     

    Write about a time you had no worries . . .

    a play-filled time . . .

    a time you felt free to be you.

     

    Does this scene look familiar?  You know where it’s from if you’ve been to Maria’s Out West Garage in Petaluma, California.

    Hi, Maria. 🙂

    Marlene C

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  • Wrong Number . . . Prompt #354

    Today’s writing prompt:

    Wrong Number.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Marlene C

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  • If you could invent something . . . Prompt #353

    If you could invent something to make your life easier, what would it be?

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Marlene C

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  • Obsessions . . . Prompt #352

    What are you obsessed with?

    Write about your obsessions.

     

     

     

    Photo by Christina Gleason

    Marlene C

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  • Favorite time of year. Prompt #351

    Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter.

    In-between seasons.

    Write about your favorite time of year.

    Marlene C

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  • “At the Ice Rink” by Alison Luterman . . . Prompt #349

     

    Today’s writing prompt is a poem by Alison Luterman. When the prompt is a poem, you can write on the theme or the mood of the poem. Or use a stanza, a line, or a word to inspire your writing. Just Write!

    At the Ice Rink

    I came here to fail
    and to fall
    but not so well
    as that man careening over the ice
    sliding into the wall
    as if into second base
    shambling up, grinning, like a great bear,
    and taking off again,

    saying, over his shoulder,
    “You’ve got it backwards.
    Learn to fall first,
    then  skate.”

    I end up clinging
    barnacle-like to the sides,
    inching around the perimeter like a caterpillar.
    Wall-hugger. Nothing has changed since I was eight
    and my parents paid for skating lessons
    in hopes I would become more balanced.

    Now as then I am wobbling, terrified,
    feet frozen like blocks of wood at the ankles.
    Not loose-limbed and easy like Hilary
    who rides the ice like a North wind scouring the plains,
    nor deft and graceful like Ruth
    picking up her feet and kick-gliding
    in time to the ’70’s pop muzak.

    But what can we do
    when fear throws its rustiest pickaxe
    dead ahead in our path?

    Mince. Inch. Stumble. Pray
    for the grace to fall
    and not be rescued, pray for the scramble-up

    for the liberating laughter that knowsit is not in our control.
    There is the center, gleaming like a fish-eye.
    Little girls spin on it, twirling their bright skirts.
    It shines under its white scars like a destiny.

    —Alison Luterman

    Alison Luterman:

    As a child, I used to creep onto the stairs when my parents had guests over and eavesdrop on the grown-ups. A creak of the stairs would invariably give away my position and I’d be chased back to bed, only to reappear at the next opportunity, hiding and listening. I wanted to be where the interesting conversations were happening. I still want that. Only now the conversations happen all over the country, all over the world, with friends, friends of friends, and complete strangers. Our stories rub up against each other and expand and change in ways I could never have imagined when I was young, and they now include rocks, weeds, fruit trees, cats, stars, and myths from all over the world, as well as all kinds of people.

    Marlene C

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  • Strongly affected. . . Prompt #347

    Today’s writing prompt is a visualization . . . then the prompt. Set yourself up for an uninterrupted twenty minutes. Get comfortable. Have your writing implements nearby . . . paper and pen or computer.

    Settle into your chair. Feet flat on floor. Hands relaxed.

    Rotate shoulders in a circle. Reverse direction.

    Stretch arms out in front. Arms overhead. Arms to the side.

    Take a deep breath in. Hold. Let go.

    Feel your feet connected to the floor. And that connection goes down into the earth, way down, deep down, to the center of the earth.

    Firmly planted, deeply rooted.

    Feel the connection up your legs, through your calves, into your knees.

    Feeling connected up into your thighs.

    Completely relax into your chair, letting go of all tension that might be in your legs and thighs.

    Just let go.

    Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

    Let your hands go limp. Feel the relaxation travel up your arms and into your shoulders.

    Take a nice deep breath in and bring your shoulders up to your ears. And then let them down with a loud hrumph sound. Another deep breath in, shoulders up and down with the outward breath.

    Relax deeper into your chair. Let your stomach muscles relax. Let your shoulder relax.

    Feeling completely supported in your chair, feel the connection to the earth. Feeling connected to the center . . . the core of the earth. Your connection goes deep.

    Relax your neck muscles. Loosen your jaw. Just hang loose.

    Let your head drop forward on your chest. Just rest there a moment.

    Rotate your head in a circle. Opposite direction.

    Deep breath in. And deep breath out.

    We’re going to do a bit of exploration now . . . scanning memories.

    Sitting comfortably in your chair, scan your relatives for the person who affected you the least.

    Next, a relative who affected you the most.

    Now, a friend who strongly affected you.

    What are some of the emotions that came up for you?

    Go a level deeper.

    Which friend or relative affected you in a way that surprised you?

    Prompt: Write about that time.

    Marlene C

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  • Family Motto . . . Prompt #346

    If you had a family motto, what would it be?

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Marlene C

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  • Un-do, un-see, un-know. Prompt #345

     

    Write about something you wish you could un-do or un-see or un-know.

    You can use this prompt to write about yourself, someone you know, or write how your fictional character would respond.

    Just write!

    Marlene C

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