I went to the grocery by a different route, and could stop and take pictures out the window safely, bearing in mind that Dan, our fearless leader, will not stand bail for anybody who gets in trouble for taking pictures of other people’s houses.
That was some sentence. Just a little bonus for people who go around looking for sentences to diagram. You know who you are.
ANYWAY.
A friend of mine used to live in this house, but she’s moved and it’s some kind of business now. I don’t know what kind, because I was on my way to buy food and wasn’t about to take time to explore. Maybe another time. Red door, car door, school bus (prolly has doors, don’t you think?).
The one below is a delightful bucolic scene, made more delightful by the fact that I don’t live here. You can smell it right through the internet.
The health food store, Harmony and Health, has moved, and the new location was on my way home, so I stopped and dropped some bills on polenta, Indian vegetarian food packets, and vegan “Parmesan”. I seem to have come out the other side of the carnivorous pit I fell into when Charlie died. Cutting back down on meat, eggs, and dairy. Sadly, H&H has “organic” dairy, but no vegan “dairy”, except for the parm.
Thursday doors is under the direction of Dan Antion, photographer extraordinaire and critter daddy. Visit his site, enjoy his wonderful photographs, follow his directions, and enter a world of doors.
A WRITING PROMPT FROM ME TO YOU: A friend moves and you don’t know where.
MA
Michael Hodges
March 3, 2022 at 7:49amI like writing prompts in general because my mind seems to have a penchant for scenes rather than stories. Before Q&Q ended (it surely seems to have ended), in fact for the very last session, I was trying to bring writing back into the fold. Meet-and-Greet had gotten long-winded, people seemed to be struggling for topics of discussion, and there was a disparity between new-ish writers still fumbling about and those who were more accomplished and growing tired of topics that seemed passé in their purview.
I don’t think writing exercises should ever feel old. Like rolling out of bed and doing some jumping jacks to wake the body, I think creative exercise is like calisthenics for the mind. Then again, I like broccoli and it is simply NOT everybody’s game.
When I tried it with Q&Q, I printed out a few dozen pictures which struck me, as well as writing several random phrases I thought hook-ish. The pictures, I rolled tightly and bound with colorful yarn, stuffing them into a container like parchment scrolls or the cartoons of old graduation sheepskins. The phrases, I cut into strips containing a single bit before rolling and binding in the same way, like giant fortunes found in some avant-garde Fusion Café where egg rolls meet Turkish (as emphasized on the menu in a difficult-to-read font) yoghurt and cilantro.
The idea was that at the beginning of the session people would draw from whichever batch they wished and use what they found as a writing prompt for ten minutes, to get the juices flowing.
Alas, COVID struck and Q&Q fell by the wayside. Nobody has shown interest in rekindling.
Me, I still love writing prompts. I’m especially fond of yours, they appeal to me on a gut level for some reason. Perhaps because I don’t see them coming despite that they’re always at the bottom of your blog entries. The abrupt Ice Age of **The Day After Tomorrow** is less a gut-check for me than what you’ve written above: **A friend moves and you don’t know where.** Perhaps because of familiarity on both counts, though impacting in different ways. The first, I’ve thought on often as a writer and a dreamer, and so it’s familiar in that **What would you do if…?** fashion, a scenario long-digested. The second, it’s happened more than once and I’ve been forced to learn from it, via life-acceptance of circumstance and reality, and via critical self-examination. Once is an unfortunate thing, twice is a question of perception, thrice or more begs one to stare deep into the bellybutton while asking “Is it me and not them?” And the answer just might be yes.
So I’ve written here what seems to be about writing prompts,but is actually about how your writing prompt above spurred me to think about writing prompts based on the weensy KABOOM of fleeting emotion and imagery brought on by your prompt, and if I mention “prompt” more in this sentence I shall achieve true editorial buggery and mad circumlocution.
Marian Allen
March 3, 2022 at 8:37amMy other writing group, Southern Indianan Writers, seems to have succumbed to COVID, as well. My reading group still keeps in contact, with monthly book reports, through email, but there’s very little activity in the SIW email group. I’m lucky, in that Sara (#4 Daughter) and her house-sharer are both writers, so we have our own little Community back here in the woods. Sara and I LOVE writing prompts! Some of our favorite pieces started out as responses to writing prompts. 🙂 The SIW members generally didn’t. I really like your Basket O’ Prompts! I especially like ones that begin with pictures.
Michael Hodges
March 3, 2022 at 4:36pmI was going to leave you a prompt (is there such a thing as a counter-prompt? it’s not a battle) but as prompts tend to do with me, it got longer and longer until what I really had was a growing synopsis:
A person (I always start out saying “a man” but try to quickly correct myself; these days I’m trying to write more women) wakes one day to find something scrawled in the condensation of their bedroom window. It’s weird, and a bit funny, definitely a mystery. It happens every morning, sometimes in the window, sometimes the bathroom mirror, even once in his/her glasses when hot coffee steams them. At first it’s about finding out who’s doing this, then a sort of acceptance that whatever the reason it’s just happening.
Gradually, the person notices little connections between the morning message and events throughout the day, just tenuous little things:
“When was the last time you stopped to smell the roses?”
“The monkey isn’t always on your back.”
“Violets are also nice.”
“Werewolves? That’s silly… or is it?”
The person begins keeping a diary of thoughts and observations, and eventually starts spending a few minutes each morning doing a little writing exercise, like mental yoga. The messages start seeming like prompts, and the person uses them thusly. The person begins writing a book, but the little things they write also seem to come true eventually, sometimes literally but much more often symbolically. S/He begins to take note, and to take stock… of life, of questions we all ask ourselves, the things we say and do, sometimes the things we say versus the things we do.
The book becomes a best-seller, a mixture of story and Self Help; and abruptly, the messages stop. But the person is sad now, not just because of the messages stopping, but because S/He has helped so many others, but not his/herself. There is an emptiness there they never really noticed before, didn’t quite feel… but also, it was ignored more than absent. The messages were often silly, but just as often a sort of background thoughtful, provoking, eventually stimulating as the person seized the sheer oddity of the situation.
They begin to write messages of their own on the window each morning, and realizing it looks a bit odd, begin to write them backward, so the messages can be read out in the world. Day after day, until their own messages become THE messages, letters to themself. And after a while they find that Self-Help is Self Love sometimes. Their messages become fun, then downright silly; much less about sending a message, more about just having fun:
“Tea for two would be nifty.”
“Dancing? I’d love to.”
“Is a paper wad really just an origami boulder?”
One evening shortly after he gets home from work (he still works, although the book has made life nicer) there’s a knock on the door. It’s a woman, and she’s holding his book. And a binder filled with pictures of her window, where messages appear.
………………………
I don’t know what happens next. A love story would be nice, but those tend to fall a bit flat for me these days.
I think nothing happens next. I think that’s where the story ends for the writer and continues for the reader. And maybe it’s a love story.
Marian, I think I just synopsisized a story on your blog. And started coining funny words.
Marian Allen
March 4, 2022 at 9:31amMichael, WRITE THAT BOOK! Or short story or novella. You’ve basically written it already; it just needs to be fleshed out.
Dan Antion
March 3, 2022 at 1:08pmThat’s a lovely scene in the middle. I love barns and silos. Not so much the smell, but it’s better than some industrial smells. At least it probably isn’t going to kill me.
The health food store does look welcoming.
I hope you have a nice weekend.
Marian Allen
March 4, 2022 at 9:27amThanks, Dan! I hope you have a nice weekend, too. We’ve had a few days of beautiful weather — I even grilled out!
Dan Antion
March 4, 2022 at 3:11pmWoo hoo!
acflory
March 4, 2022 at 10:43pm-cough- Glad to hear you’re not stalking anyone, Marian… 😉 As for the change in your eating habits, I think that’s a good thing, especially as it shows that you’re listening to your body. Don’t want to get all woo woo about it, but your immune system is doing all the hard work so feed it whatever fuel it wants! -hugs-
Marian Allen
March 5, 2022 at 8:44amI seem to be craving different things than I have in the past. It’s interesting to travel where it’s leading me.
acflory
March 5, 2022 at 7:51pmI’m a firm believer that we are what we eat…and that the body tells us when we’re not getting enough of something. I’ll be interested to see where your cravings take you. I wonder if you need more in the way of vitamins or minerals or something?
Marian Allen
March 6, 2022 at 10:11amI take a daily multi-vitamin, extra calcium, and vitamin D, so probably not. It might be a change in what I DON’T need.
acflory
March 6, 2022 at 3:54pmAh, good point. Too much protein isn’t healthy either.
How’re you feeling generally?
Marian Allen
March 6, 2022 at 4:04pmI feel fine. 🙂 Better, now that I’m concentrating on veg. It’s so PRETTY!
acflory
March 6, 2022 at 5:04pmPretty? lol I guess it is more attractive than meat but I’ve never heard it described as pretty before. Some day soon you’re going to have to start weaving all of this into a new story. One with a happy ending. -hugs-
Marian Allen
March 7, 2022 at 8:59amOh, vegetables are so colorful! A plate of kale, acorn squash, and tomatoes, maybe with fried polenta on the side — that’s a work of art. 😀
acflory
March 7, 2022 at 3:51pmKale…-shudder- I do like vegetables but not quite that much. 😉
Marian Allen
March 9, 2022 at 9:24amOh, dear. Don’t like kale, don’t like yodeling. So much alike, and yet so different, my sister from far away! Okay, substitute asparagus for the kale. Or green beans. But I love kale, cooked with onion and garlic and salt, just until it’s wilted.
acflory
March 9, 2022 at 6:18pm-grin- We are a lot alike, aren’t we? Thank goodness we have some points of difference. And thanks, I LOVE asparagus!
Marian Allen
March 10, 2022 at 9:04am#4 Daughter loved asparagus tips but not spears until last night. Last night, I made a recipe from the National Honey Board and she gobbled up the whole spear. I’ll post it Tuesday. 🙂
acflory
March 10, 2022 at 10:18pmOh good! I love the whole spear but oddly enough the Offspring doesn’t like the tip. Go figure.
acflory
March 5, 2022 at 8:01pmBtw I just tried to leave a comment on Chickie’s post but I couldn’t seem to click in the Reply box. I suspect it’s just a temporary glitch, but please tell Chickie she made me laugh. 🙂
Marian Allen
March 6, 2022 at 10:12amI’ll let her know. She’s such a clown; she loves to make us laugh.
acflory
March 6, 2022 at 3:53pm-grin- that she is. 😉