For this week’s Wednesday writing prompt, I came up with one of my own. Here’s your writing prompt for the week:
If money were no object…
And my shot at it:
If money were no object, I would buy a big old Victorian house with a wraparound porch and a wooden deck off the back overlooking the woods. Maybe there would be a lazy stream ambling through the woods, with all manner of wildlife to watch from the deck.
I would only need a bedroom, a sitting room, and a bathroom for myself (for some reason, I am imagining this happening after my kids have grown up and moved on) and my cat. We would live at the top of the house, and I would turn the downstairs into a sleepy little bookshop/café. Money would be no object, so I would be happy for it to not be a busy business. In fact, if it were too busy, that would defeat the purpose of my master plan.
In the morning, I would get up and cook whatever baked concoction I was in the mood for at that day. (As I write this, I have a blackberry lemon loaf in the oven. I hate to cook but love to bake!) I wouldn’t need to make much since my shop isn’t that busy. Who wants to spend that much time in the kitchen anyway?
I’d get the espresso bar cranked up and ready to go for my morning rush and then chat with my neighbors as they stop in to get their morning cups on their way to work. On the weekends, my good friends and neighbors would get their cups and stay, lounging around in the giant stuffed couches and arm chairs that are scattered about the place. Read the rest of this page »
Yesterday, I mentioned that I had recently purchased a book titled, 300 Writing Prompts and that I would be sharing some of my own attempts at the prompts in this book. Here’s my first little ditty. It’s not very long because I kept it within the allotted space in the book. You can write longer if you like. Please feel free to share your own responses to the prompt in the comments below.
When was the last time you got lost? Read the rest of this page »
I’ve been trying to pick up my writing practice again since I brought my son home from the hospital a few weeks ago. The day of Corbin’s accident, my writing activities came to a screeching halt. For the first week or so after the accident, I was in complete shock. I could barely function, and I couldn’t think past the “right now.” I lived in the moment in a way that I don’t remember ever doing before. Family members brought me books to read, coloring books to scribble in, and yarn to crochet with. I couldn’t concentrate on any of it.
After that first week, my brain began to thaw, but I still couldn’t concentrate on anything important. I picked up a crochet hook and some of the yarn that my aunt sent and got my hands busy. Crocheting is good for my anxiety. My favorite pattern involves counting to ten over and over and over again, and I find it strangely soothing. Maybe it’s my OCD.
I tried to at least pick up my journal to chronical the days during our five weeks in the hospital, but even that couldn’t hold my attention for more than a minute here and there. Most days, I would spend my mornings waiting for the doctors to do their rounds so I could listen in when they got to Corbin. In the afternoon, I would lay down and take a nap. My days revolved around catching the doctors on rounds, ordering room service, and counting down the hours until naptime and bedtime. (It’s no wonder I gained ten pounds while we were living in the hospital!) Read the rest of this page »
My son and I were invited to attend the Homecoming kickoff assembly at his high school Monday morning. While he’s not officially back to school yet (It will be another month before we find out when the doctor will release him to return to class,) he enjoyed stopping by the school and soaking up his fifteen minutes of celebrity status in front of the entire student body. Here’s a video:
It’s true what they say about life and dimes. Two weeks ago, plus one day, my life was turned into a violent tailspin when my sixteen-year-old son was hit by a semi-truck while riding his bike.
So many things went right that morning, despite the great and horrible wrong that landed us where we are today. The driver of the truck stopped and helped my son rather than hitting him and driving away. Local first responders arrived on the scene in record time and rushed my son to the closest emergency room. A helicopter crew then took my son quickly to another hospital in a nearby city where a first-rate neurosurgeon literally saved his life.
I was later told that my son would be dead if everyone hadn’t reacted so swiftly. If even one person had faltered that day, I might be in mourning right now rather than living in a hospital, watching my son make miniscule yet amazing improvements each and every day. Read the rest of this page »
As I mentioned in my last post, I am going to be doing a lot of writing this semester in my creative nonfiction course. I am working my way through my first reading assignment and am already coming across small writing exercises that I would like to share with you. This post might turn into a series!
For today’s creative nonfiction writing exercise, you will write two paragraphs about your name. The first paragraph should be strictly objective, while the second should be more subjective. In other words, the first paragraph will contain facts about your name. The second will tell what it is like to be YOU while wearing the mantel of your particular name. Here’s an example from Writing True: The Art and Craft of Creative Nonfiction: Read the rest of this page »