Random letters

For a while I have not been inspired enough to write any story from beginning to end.  Even prompts have not had the desired effect.

The thing is, although I am only beginning to explore my creative writing, I feel I have become addicted to the sensation of words flowing from my finger tips as if someone else is writing them.  What else is hiding in the depths of my psyche that I am not aware of?  I want to know and for that I have to keep writing.

Today I resorted to a practice exercise with the simple intent of forcing something out without having to create an actual story with beginning, middle and end.

This idea is from ‘The Pocket Muse – ideas & inspirations for writing‘ by Monica Wood:

Chose ten random letters of the alphabet and write them at the top of a blank page.  Using words that begin with these letters, in the same order, write an opening sentence.

I selected my random letters by moving the mouse through a blog post on my screen.  I wrote five separate pieces which turned out quite different from each other.  This was a fun and challenging exercise to do.

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I    S    E    N    R    K    O    T    Y    D

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I seek enlightenment
Not reasoned knowledge
Or theological yarns
Dogmas

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Isabella stripped Eric naked, right knee on the yard deckchair.

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In spring eagles nest
Ravens keep out
Thrushes yearn dawn

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I see, each night, Roger knock over the yellow door.

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Ingrained sentiments eclipse natural reactions. Knowing others’ transgressions yet, denial.

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Childhood treasures

When I was a child there weren’t as many toys as today so everything I got was precious to me.

I remember at Christmas we would get our presents on Christmas Eve and whatever I got I would put by my bed so that I could see it again first thing in the morning.

I remember my first ‘real’ doll – her name was Carol and it had a whole rubber body and wavy, long brown hair. I don’t remember playing with dolls that much but remember that I had a particular fondness for Carol and she was my favourite doll for many years.

My other biggest treasure was my bike. I was 9 or 10 when I got it and it was a very modern bike as it was fold-able. One time my dad was teaching me to ride it in an open field and as he pushed the bike it opened up and I fell.

Another time I was riding with my sister sitting on the back and we fell. My sister was unhurt and ran home to call our parents. I had blood pouring from both my knees but my biggest concern was about the bike; I was so worried that I might have damaged it. In the end I was fine and the bike was fine too but this episode has stayed imprinted in my memory as that bike was so precious to me.

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Here is your FWF prompt

Write about your most memorable childhood gift. Was it a Christmas gift? A Birthday gift? Was it something you really wanted or was it a surprise that ended up holding a sentimental place in your heart? What do you remember? How did it make you feel?

Through the gate

I drove my mother to the cemetery. I hate coming here but for her it is a sort of ritual, it is important for her to come and talk to my father, see how the grave is clean and clear of any weeds or dirt.

“Do you know they break into here and steel all sorts of things from the graves? Anything in metal or marble has been taken. That is why I wanted your father’s grave to be simple, just a plain stone”
“I wish he wasn’t here. I can’t bear the thought of his body being under there….”
“It is good for me to know that I can come here and be with him for a few minutes when I need to.”
“I’m sorry mum, I understand you need this. But please don’t ask me again to bring you – for me this is a nightmare, I can’t stand the thought of dad dead, this place makes me face that reality.”

I need her to understand that we don’t all deal with pain and loss in the same way. I don’t want her to talk about dad all the time, especially not in the ‘if he were here’ kind of conversation. I need my time to deal with this, to grieve how I need to grieve… I am not sure she has room in her heart to understand that.

As we leave through the gate, I hope that I never have to come back.

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Free write for Free Write Friday, inspired by the title “The Ivy Covered Gate”.

Here is your FWF prompt…

Select a title from the list below as your inspiration:

“Dandelion Season”
“Phone Call at Midnight”
“The Green Years”
“The Human Zoo”
“The Fires of Spring”
“The Ivy Covered Gate”

free write friday kellie elmore

Dirty laundry

“Why do you have to wash our dirty laundry in public?”  Claire shouted, as she negotiated her way through the crowded pub into the street.

“What are you talking about?” Tony tried to keep pace with her.  It always amazed him how anger made her walk so fast.

“The bombshell you just threw in there.  You have this crazy habit of giving me upsetting news when we are out,  enjoying ourselves.  Why couldn’t you wait until we got home to tell me this?”

“Because when we get home we immediately turn on the computers or watch TV and don’t talk.  And when we do talk, we don’t listen to each other.” He said while opening their apartment door.

“That is no reason to bring up personal issues like that in public”.   She took off her shoes by the door and went into the living room to turn her laptop on.

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I wrote this in June based on a prompt from Andy’s Words & Pictures. I didn’t know how to end the story (this is always an issue) so put it aside intending to go back but ended up forgetting about it. Having read it now I decided to post it anyway.

Cinema memories

They were poor when they were small.  She had never known her father and his disappeared when he was two years old.  Their mother changed lovers like other women changed shoes and they were often left alone to fend for themselves.

Occasionally the mother gave them a little money to buy sweets but they saved it up to indulge in their passion – cinema.  Once they had enough coins for both of them, they would go to the cinema house and buy tickets for any films they were allowed to watch.  In those days they were able to watch some of the Hollywood classics and to this day, many decades later, she remembers the actors and the movies she watched.   Those are the sweetest memories from her childhood, when her brother and her were close and took care of each other.

When she became cumbersome to their mother she was sent into service as a live in maid.  Her brother hanged around the streets during the day.  At night he slept wrapped in a blanket on an small, old mattress on the floor, while the mother pandered to her latest man.

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This week’s FWF prompt from Kellie Elmore is a word bank:

blanket – falsetto – cumbersome – cinema – coins

You may use one or all of the words. Don’t force it. If only one speaks to you, that is your muse. Go with it. If you can use all of them with little effort (no overthinking it) then let it flow. I look forward to reading you.

 free write friday kellie elmore