Tuesday, May 4, 2010

A little creativity for your soul.....

This is a hair-brained experiment, okay? I have no idea if you care to or want to or have time to do this...but honestly, that isn't my problem. I know that I sometimes need a little fuel to get going when my creativity hits a lull...plus, practice is good practice. As a writer, I know that my writing will be fuller, richer, and more likely to stand up off the page if I am writing often and with discipline. If I start to slack off or if I let the words go stale like old bread...guess what? Nothing but grimy and worn out mold is going to come from it. So, I thought, since I love to write, and many of my readers love to write...we would do a little mini-creative workshop together. What do you think?

Basically, I am going to offer a writing prompt. Something simple and without much pomp. You then will take that prompt and write from it. We are not talking about starting your collection of short stories here...I just mean some words strung together with meaning. Nothing more than 150 words. THEN....and this is where you must put on your big girl or boy panties....post your writing HERE. Right below here where it says comment.

I know, I know....if you didn't take creative writing in college, you may not be comfortable sharing off the cuff musings with mere strangers. BUT listen for one second. If we can get 5 writers, who want to be better, who want to try to find new ways of working with words, who long for new ways of taking ideas, thoughts, or observations and making interesting prose, poetry, or narration....if we can find just a few and share with one another...maybe we can all LEARN and GROW!

When you do a creative workshop, you usually would read your work aloud. But, I am not ready to skype conference you all at this point...and I don't even know if you will do it. So we will simply post our writing, and then comment on the following things: And for now, since this is new- we will only focus on the positive!

What stands out that makes the writer's voice unique?
What one sentence makes you want to read more?
What one sentence or phrase could be omitted with no affect on the rest of the piece?
In what way could the writer expand on an idea here?


This is low pressure guys...just a group of like-minded folks throwing words around. it could be fun.

If you love doing this....if you want to do it again...please let me know!! I will try even if you don't say a word, though.

So today's prompt is to pick one item in your house...an appliance, a piece of furniture, a photo on the wall....anything. Pick that item and write from its point of view...don't give away what item it is. We will do the guessing. 


Well, here it goes. I have adequately prepared myself for you all to cock your eye at me, think in your head "What the crap?", and turn away from your computers. But don't. Have a little fun with me!

10 comments:

  1. Watch out! Don't touch me! For, I will cause you pain. You turn me on and up and down and use me in vain. Do you smell that smell? It's coming from me! The delicious odor, good enough to EAT. My light will illuminate the wondrous things inside. Your creations, new ones, old ones, some are family pride. With all this working, sometimes 3 times a day, can you figure out who I am? Don't you dare to play?

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  2. It’s 6 o’clock. I know its time, the time that I hold you. I hold you while you pray. I hold you while you dream. I hold you while you sing. I hold both of you, knowing how important this moment is. Knowing that this is what you were made for. And then you’re gone… till 9… 12….3… oh, and again at 6.

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  3. Desolate. You have forgotten me. I am dirty and useless in this summer heat. You fed me so generously just a few weeks back, I greedily devoured every bite and my appetite brought you great joy. I called to you at the end of a long day. Beckoning the family to gather, to delight in my warmth. I saw your smiles, heard your stories, saw that moment you were alone with him. Now my head holds a picture from that chilly night but my belly sits empty and waiting. You will try to hide me or at the least disguise me but my purpose will remain and I will be ready for you come October. The wind will howl down my long neck and you will rekindle our love.

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  4. By night when things are quiet, I sing and fill the air with lullabies! And when their little sleepy heads are safely on their pillows, I spring to life again and have yet more fun! I house the news in silent form though if you dare to hear, a quick little change and I’ll talk you all you have to do ask. I house a link to friends, old and new – near and far, you just have to ask me to show you and I will tell you how they are! When morning comes, sticky fingers pick me up and draw the dreams of dawn. I am the keeper of the muse of one who is much younger. In the pocket, I go for a day’s adventure. Though I cannot take your picture, I can hold your memories tight, you just have to show me where to find them! But there is one more thing to remember - if you don’t address me and I am lost, I maybe be lost to you forever.

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  5. Delaney- you crack me up! This cracked me up- Do you smell that smell? It's coming from me! The delicious odor, good enough to EAT. My light will illuminate the wondrous things inside. I love it!! Great job!

    Michele- Yours made me a little weepy! So sweet and so true. But I love that you wrapped it up the same way it began.

    Katy- This was so romantic and dark. I love that it is centered around family and the loneliness of the object.

    Lynne- I can relate to this one. I love the sentence about sticky fingers...you can almost see fingerprints left behind! Great imagery!

    Ya'll rock!

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  6. You and I have a lot in common. I will wait patiently until I am needed or called for through tears. I will wait under the pillow, in the car, or stuffed in the backpack. I don't mind that you got another one, you know, just in case. Thanks for patching up my foot and my face. Thanks for occasionally bathing me in the machine even though I know how much you love the way I smell like him. I don't know how much longer he'll want me around. It doesn't matter. I'll still be here. Just like you.

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  7. I watch with the clear eyes of innocence and wonder.
    Forever smiling, perpetually hopeful.
    A black and white beholder, who dreams in living color.
    I am ageless, but bear witness as the ones I love age before my gaze.
    I see everything - the love and the battles, the mundane and the dramatic, the joy and the tragic.
    No matter how painful the scene may be that plays out before my eyes, I cannot turn away.
    No matter how blissful the occasion, I cannot take part.
    I sometimes wonder if you even see me anymore.
    Or have you forgotten me?
    A fine layer of dust strung to a wispy thread of spider silk testifies that you have.
    And yet I maintain the cockeyed grin of an eternal optimist.
    I could never forget you – you are the reason I’m here.
    As the sun sets on another day, I see you glance my way and remember.
    You reach out to touch me and smile.
    I live for these moments.

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  8. Good grief. Why do I get stuck with all this work? Life for me is just one, on-going routine - same thing day in day out ... but oh! If I get behind it's like the whole world comes to a screeching halt. And when's the last time anyone stopped to just say Thank You, huh? When?

    There's no end to this cycle for me, that's for sure. No, no, no. It's just one load after another until I'm worn out and replaced.

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  9. You glare within me, trusting me with your vanity. I’m either your beloved friend or your bitter enemy. My presence makes some grimace or others primp. I’m present within your home but follow you everywhere you go. Don’t ignore me I’m always here. Something you must face and learn how to not fear. You shouldn’t hate me I’m just telling the truth, learn to love me and you’ll love yourself.

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  10. Putting Aside

    I reach out

    but I have no arms

    I sing

    but I have no voice

    the tree limbs droop

    just so

    the wind lifts the insects

    well out of your reach

    let me tell you about my childhood

    how I ate shoelaces

    smeared bootblack on my face

    ate chipmunks in the garden

    tried to reason with ants

    you were there

    in your long white dress

    you'd swing and you'd swing

    you never laughed

    you always pretended I was never there

    till finally I was gone

    and a good thing too

    familiarity breeds contempt

    eccentricity wears thin

    novelty wears itself out

    and finally Reality itself claps its hands

    and says "Enough!"

    we're not children anymore

    we should leave behind childish things

    and yet when the ice cream truck chimes

    you would cast aside your cares

    and run hands in the air

    birds might well wonder

    what was going on

    as you enter some alley

    never to come out....

    (Greg Cameron, Poem, Surrey, B.C., Canada, May, 2010)

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