Friday, July 29th, 2011  I was driving into town this afternoon, Husband of Awesome™ at the wheel of the vehicle, when a huge bird swooped down low and fast across the front of the pickup and landed on a fence post.
“Pullover!” I yelled, reaching for the camera, thinking I would have a prime shot at a hawk.
I was even more elated to see it was Barred Owl (Strix varia). Who cares if it’s the most common owl in the US? How often do you see a crepuscular* animal in broad daylight? And sitting so calmly it appeared to want to have it’s picture taken?
To my utter disappointment, I’d forgotten the camera.
Missed opportunity.
Still, the bird sat waiting. We watched until another car drove by, scaring it from its perch.
I’ve been kicking myself all afternoon. What a great shot that would have been!
Here’s Your Prompt:
Write about a missed opportunity. If you’re writing memoir, this could be a personal experience. If you’re writing fiction, it could be about someone else’s personal experience, or completely made up.
What kind of opportunity was it? A new job? Travel? Love? A big fish? How meaningful to you is this lost thing? Something you’ve wanted all your life? Something that’s only recently made it onto your bucket list? Or was it simply a momentary deal?
How was the opportunity presented? Were you schmoozing at a party? In a meeting at work? Walking down the street? Set the scene to enhance the tension.
What were the stakes? Maybe the opportunity was missed because an alternative seemed better at the time…was their anxiety associated with this choice? Calmness? Logic? Maybe, the opportunity was complete serendipity.
Has a missed opportunity turned out to be for the better? Maybe you turned down your dream job to stay close to home, and the company folded six months later. Perhaps you declined a free week at the beach and Hurricane Agnes blew in for 10 days. Maybe turning down the offer of a lifetime saved your life.
How so?
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* Crepuscular animals hunt only at dawn and dusk.
(I’ve been dying to use that word since I learned it. I did not miss this opportunity!)
I did, however, miss the opportunity with the bird. The photo above was taken by Frank Kovalchek from Anchorage, Alaska. See Mr. Kovalchek’s flicker stream for more great photos.
Friday, July 22nd, 2011  I’ve been in training for the last three days – two in Virginia, and one in Washington, DC, for my day job. It’s geek stuff – and I’m about geeked out.
Between the travel and the all-day tech classes, I am wiped out. (And I’ve got one more day of training tomorrow in DC…)
I can’t wait to slip between the sheets tonight.
Sleep is very much on my mind right now.
And yet, so much goes on when we sleep: we dream, we kick, we toss and turn. We speak. We sleep walk. There”s so much activity! It’s a wonder we get any rest at all.
Here’s Your Prompt: Today, write about sleeping. Write about your sleep habits, or your character’s sleep habits. Write about when you can’t sleep: what triggers your insomnia? How do solve the problem? Write about the dream realm: what kind of place is it? Can you get there even if you’re not asleep?
Friday, July 15th, 2011  I once punched a horse right on the nose.
I don’t remember this incident at all. But my Mom tells me it happened, and she wouldn’t lie.
The story goes that we were out…somewhere… (I can’t even remember what she’s told me several times), probably a petting zoo or something like that. It was hot, and I was wearing a straw hat in deference to the sun. Out of nowhere, a horse walked up to me and started eating my hat.
So, I punched it. Hard. And got my hat back.
There were some repercussions. I don’t remember these either.
But this hole in my memory is a pretty interesting thing. What I don’t know, I can imagine. And this non-knowledge is free for me to take and build upon. It’s wonderful fodder for a story or poem or a single scene in a larger work.
Thinking about what we don’t know exercises the brain in a way completely different than what we’re often admonished to do. (Write what you know, eh?)
Consider this: how about not remembering something that’s absent in your life? I don’t remember ever having a family reunion. I don’t remember being in the “in” crowd in high school. I don’t remember ever being chased by zombies…
This is just another way to exercise your brain and consider something from an unfamiliar angle.
Here’s Your Prompt:
Write or type, “I Don’t Remember…” at the top of a sheet of paper and start writing. You must fill the page. It doesn’t matter how long it takes you to do it: 20 minutes or all day. The point is to not just come up with a single item, but to think hard about the situation and include all the details.
If you get stuck, write the phrase, “I don’t remember” and continue to do so until your brain catches up. It’s important to write this phrase, rather than think it over and over.
It doesn’t matter if what you write about is a real memory or a non-memory. It could even be the memory of one of your characters.
Do you see a pattern emerging from your thoughts? Do you recognize old themes that permeate your writing? Have you found something new?
Friday, July 8th, 2011 He that has eyes to see and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret. If his lips are silent, he chatters with his fingertips; betrayal oozes out of him at every pore. ~ Sigmund Freud
Have you ever been in a room full of people and watched one person bend toward another and whisper something secret ?
(Maybe it wasn’t a secret at all. Maybe one friend was telling another very quietly that she had broccoli stuck in her teeth from lunch. Well, it certainly didn’t look that way! They have secrets, those two!)
There’s something about even the perception of a secret that charges the atmosphere in a room.
Who’s got the secret? What is it? Who will it affect? What does it mean to me?
As soon as some bit of information is perceived as “secret,” it becomes more desirous to know.
People act differently when they have a secret: they’re guarded and their body language mimics this closed fortress, arms crossed across the chest, legs crossed over knees or shoulders hunched in protection against the middle. Some folks are smug, wearing that “cat that ate the canary” smile and lording it over others. Some act frightened of what they know. Some are just full of energy, bursting to tell someone else what they’ve learned.
Secrets are a wonderful plot device. They can be uncovered, confessed, or created. They can be non-existent, with that fact known to all but the major characters. They can be a thing of joy, of horror, of shame, or any other feeling. They can control.
Here’s Your Prompt: Write about a secret. It can be one of yours, or one of your characters. It could be something pragmatic: the secret to making the tastiest fried chicken, or, the secret to brushing your teeth well.
Write about the secret you: the person you are when no one’s around. The person you secretly want to be. The person you are, but no one realizes…
Friday, July 1st, 2011  Sometimes when we write, the words won’t come.
Or, they’re boring.
Or, they’re average, common or trite.
It could be the subject matter. Or that we’re trying to hard. Or we’re afraid to write the words.
It could also be a thousand other things. Unrelated to writing things. We’re tired. We’re fried from a long work week. The commute sucked. It’s too noisy. We just can’t concentrate.
Many times, we’re dancing around the point.
Here’s Your Prompt:
When you’re stuck with your writing, and the words won’t come, just draw a line on the page (or skip a few lines on the screen) and write:
What I’m really trying to say is…
… and then write for 10 minutes about what’s really on your mind. It may or may not fix the scene or the poem or the passage you’re working on. But it may open avenues to other pieces. It might be the kernel of the next book or poem or essay you want to begin.
Or, it might be just getting something off your mind. It might clear the path for getting back to what you were doing.
It might be exactly what you want to write about.
Either way, it’s deeper thinking, food for thought….something to be considered when next you write again.
Friday, June 24th, 2011  I venture to say that I’m not the only woman whose little-girl dreams included getting married and moving into a castle.
(Though I was never into that pink, sugar-coated, cotton candy and ice cream Disneyfied version that always gets pimped to little girls.)
Show me dark stone masonry, moats and oubliettes, a crypt in the cellar (and a dungeon) and you’ve got my attention.
I still haven’t outgrown the idea.
I’ve whiled away endless hours on the internet looking at castles for sale (and castles for rent) searching for both inspiration, and, well, the perfect opportunity.
It’s amazing how many castles are actually affordable. What stops me is the whole ‘packing up and moving to another country’ thing. That’s too much hassle.
So, if I had my wish? Yeah, I’d move into a big scary castle on scads of acreage. I want cool stone floors, vaulted ceilings in the dining room, hidden staircases, secret passage ways, crypts to explore…I’d take a torch and my laptop and spend the afternoon writing. Now there’s some stimulating atmosphere!
My favorite room would be the huge, fully-equipped library: leather bound books ceiling to floor, large crackling fireplace, thick pile rugs covering the stone (and of course a tastefully designed technology center where I can surf the net and write…)
And at least one craggy turret of the castle must overlook the ocean, so that on breezy days I can throw open a lead-paned window to catch both the ocean breeze and the noise of the breakers hitting the shore. (This turret room will contain the second, fully-equipped library, etc. etc. because being surrounded by books while writing is simply euphoric.)
Here’s Your Prompt: What’s your dream home? Where’s it located? How would you trick it out? What’s your motivation for this location? This style? Would you decorate it yourself or call in a designer? Where would it be? Your home town? Where you currently reside? Or across the ocean on another continent?
If you’ve got the time, sketch your home and the surrounding property. Then, map the layout inside: add all the details that you can to illustrate your dreams.
Friday, June 17th, 2011  [… cue the Alice Cooper music…]
Yesterday was the last day of school in our county, and the little parasites are out in droves today. Can’t go anywhere today without bumping into one!
So…in honor of summer vacation…
Here’s Your Prompt:
Depending on your school district, you have approximately 104 days of summer vacation.
What are your plans?
Pretend you’ve got nothing to do until school is back in session…and you’ve got to plan out how you’re going to spend each and every day.
Money doesn’t matter, obligations don’t exist, any and all transportation is available to you. (So, if you want to take a trip to the moon…you may.)
Parse out the vacation by weeks or by days — or weekends — or whatever takes your fancy. Explain where you’re going to go, how you’re going to get there, who you’re going with, and most importantly: why you’re going.
Dig deep into your soul and examine the reason your trip. (“Because I’ve never been there,” isn’t good enough.)
And remember, we’re imagining here…so the reasons can be imaginary, too…
Once you’ve planned your entire vacation, choose one of your trips and pretend it’s already happened. Spend some time showing how the trip went, what you experienced along the way, and whether or not you fulfilled your reason for going.
Friday, June 10th, 2011  I’m trying to narrow down my life to the things that really please me.
When I figure that out, I plan on streamlining everything.
I’m fairly certain of the ‘short list’ of things that I really like. Here’s a subset:
- my family
- writing
- good friends
- reading
- really loud music 🙂
- my doll collection (No, I am not too old to play with dollies!)
- visits to Staples (Will the Husband of Awesome™ groan upon reading this?)
- genealogy
- gardening
- photography
- knitting
- soft ice cream
- chocolate and peanut butter together
- homemade whipped cream
- …
The list goes on.
Some things have always been, and will always remain on the list: soft ice cream, family, reading… Knitting is fairly new, and I’m not certain how long it will continue to captivate me. But I’ve reached a point where I’m ready to knit sweaters or quit all together. (One can only knit so many scarves and potholders and really kewl fingerless gloves before the shininess palls, ya know?)
When I figure this out, when the list above is complete — and current — because I don’t want anything on it that used to please me, I’m going to weed everything out of my life that doesn’t pertain.
If it’s a physical item, it’s getting tossed. If it’s a bad habit, I’ll break it. If it’s an acquaintance, I’ll refuse future invitations.
Big job.
My point is this: why should we surround ourselves with anything that doesn’t give us pleasure? All else is an annoyance, a liability, or a distraction from what’s really important.
Here’s Your Prompt: Make a list of all the things that you enjoy doing or having or being.
The list can be as long or as short as you want it. It’s your list, after all, and only you can know how many things should be on it.
Now, pick one item on the list, one thing you really, really love, and write about why it gives you such pleasure. Write as if to a friend that you’re trying to share this passion with. Don’t try to be persuasive. It’s not you job to convince your “friend” to like it, too. Instead, concentrate on why you feel the way you do about it. Help your friend understand your passion.
Friday, June 3rd, 2011  I was taking a brisk walk last night when I smelled the perfume of honeysuckle wafting by on an itinerant breeze.
A flood of memories assailed me.
I was struck with the image of my teenaged self driving too fast along twisting rural roads, music blasting, windows rolled all the way down, honeysuckle scent barreling into the car through windows and vents, bathing everything in its sweet odor.
I was reminded of hot summer evenings, deck-sitting, waiting for the elusive breeze, and with it the tantalizingly sweet smell of honeysuckle.
I remembered visiting my aunt’s house with the steep hill on the front of the property covered in honeysuckle, and sitting in that patch — flowers up to my ears — with laughing cousins and siblings, all of us telling jokes and sucking on honeysuckle flowers.
Wow! It’s no wonder scientists say that our sense of smell is the strongest link with our memories.
What are you reminded of with a particular aroma?
Here’s Your Prompt: Conjure up some scents!
Take a sniff from a perfume or cologne bottle you haven’t worn in a while. (If you don’t have one at home, check out the perfume counter at a department store, or the personal aisle in drug store for shampoo or hairspray or lotion…)
Take a walk in a bakery or florist. Or a leather goods shop. Or the beach.
Anywhere.
Create your own memories by lighting a fire or candle, or baking one of your grandmother’s recipes in the oven.
What memories do these smells evoke?
Write a memoir, an essay a journal entry or a poem.
Friday, May 27th, 2011  I never drive anywhere new without a map.
I think I’ve mentioned before that sometimes I have a map and a GPS, and I still manage to get lost. That’s just me.
Lately, I’ve been looking at maps, deciding where I might like to take some day trips this summer. I’m looking at museums, hiking trails, adventure stuff.
(Some decisions will be made by the apparent ease of getting there. Too many turns, and I’m not going…or I’ll take a navigator. Who’s up for a road trip this summer?)
The Yahoo map to the right has a star marking St. Michael’s Church in Baltimore. I might take trip there to investigate more family genealogy.
Here’s Your Prompt:
In honor of spring and planning summer and fall trips, here are some prompts about maps. You can write a poem, a story, a scene, anything that comes to mind inspired by these:
- Lost again!
- You’re in uncharted territory…
- “Far, far across the crimsoned map the impassioned armies sweep.” – (from ‘The Superman’ by Robert Grant)
- A secret location…
- “A barnyard and fifteen Holstein cows, dabs of white on a black wall map, never blink an eye.” – (from Still Life’ by Carl Sandburg)
- He had never passed this way before…
- “Because he had no map, he followed…” – (from Sandy Star and Willie Gee by William Stanley Braithwaite)
- Here’s a map to my heart.
- He was mapping a sentence when…
- …is only to be considered as a general map of Man, marking out no more than the greater parts, their extent, their limits, and their connection, but leaving… (from An Essay on Man by Alexander Pope)
- Following the map of your desires…
- A mile and a half beyond the yellow barn…
- She opened the tattered envelope and pulled out a map to…
Have fun!
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Writers - Maryland Writer's Assn.
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