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Category: Writing Prompts
I found some topics on Pinterest grouped monthly. Thought I’d give it a whirl.
November Writing Challenge Day 2 Wind. Once upon a time, in a land full of dirt roads and gently rolling hills, there was a cabbage plant. And under its largest leaf quivered a small winged grasshopper. The grasshopper wasn’t sure what had happened for him to be separated from his 392 siblings, but here he was. He was scared, but he wasn’t cold. He was lost, but he wasn’t blissful. He was green, but he wasn’t jealous. His yellow eyes darted anxiously as he chewed his bottom lip. He flicked an antenna and waited. Pretty soon he heard the chirrups of friends and neighbors 40,000 strong and he ventured out from under the cabbage leaf. He stretched out a leg and eyed the sky for swooping sparrows. The golden wheat rustled and he warily watched the high grass for other uncertainties. He climbed a stalk and munched thoughtfully on a tender sprout he’d found on the way up. It was green like him. The stalk shifted slightly. He gently swayed in the wind. He spread his wings to shake the dust out. And he remembered being lifted, the sensation of being weightless, and this was it, it was wind. It was wind beneath his wings. And he was flying away, to the next cabbage patch, on the next wind. I never gave much thought to wind until I went out west. It’s not like…
Instead of doing 30 days of Thankfulness I’m switching it up this year. I think it will be good for me. All twelve months are listed on Pinterest. I need to get back in the habit of writing. Time is so hard to come by, though, between working, keeping house, cooking dinner, my own maintenance (which seems to grow by the day), reading my self imposed goal of sixty books this year, and catching up on social media. But anyway. So. Day One. Heartbeat. Well. The obvious is when your heart starts beating, you’re here, and when it stops, you’re not. But I’m not normal and the first thing that comes to mind is Brian talking about wood fences that don’t lay with the land and have “heartbeats” (bumps). But for the sake of a good story, we’ll track back to the customary usage. I see more hearts stopping than I do starting. My heart stopped the first time I laid eyes on Johnny. I know it did. I’ve seen heart stoppingly gorgeous creatures; horses at play in fields and working cattle, their muscles rippling and manes flying away from their necks as they turn on a dime (my heart has stopped when I became separated from said equine in a grand fall). I’ve witnessed panthers pacing and stalking prey, their gorgeous shining coats showing…
A breeze from the river lifts a corner of my napkin where my sweating glass of sweet tea sits. The air is humid, carrying the scent of mud & pine trees. I look past the house to the geese squawking at each other on the pond. Richard Montgomery spears a meatball with a toothpick & plops it on his plate. “Can you believe how hot it still is? Did you get you some of these meatballs? Here, try ’em!” He proffers the blue casserole dish my way. My plate is already full from everything else Ann, his wife of 42 years, has persuaded me to eat. Their hospitality is overwhelming. Richard is, in the truest sense of the word, a good ole boy. He’s the current Chairman of Tennessee’s Board of Parole. He served as Sevier County’s House Representative from 2008-2012, & for eighteen years prior to that, proudly chaired Sevier County’s Board of Education. Richard is an institution in this part of the world, & chances are you’ve been in his presence at some point or another, if you ever attend any local fundraisers or social events. He’s an important voice for the local people & always has an ear for anyone who stops him. And boy, do people stop him. Bob’s Mountaineer Restaurant, that once anchored Seymour on its north side, was more a political gathering place…
I had two write two mock ups as an interview of sorts when I thought I was going to take a paid writing job for a magazine. The people are real, the names and story are not. I wrote it without ever visiting their home. Driving up a residential, slightly sloped, tree lined street, sprinklers whir behind black fences on immaculate lawns leading to large brick homes. You can picture the inhabitants: petite blonde women compensating with 4″ heels, rushing to get out the door, briefcases under their arm, packed with papers. Their husbands stand over the sink slurping the last dregs of coffee from a mug they got at their last conference with the Wall Steet Journal quartered in their hands. The house is quiet, apart from the clattering the missus makes on her way through the foyer, adjusting her scarf where it is tangled in an earring. But step inside THIS one, & you’ll find quite a different scenario. Meet the Millers. Hubert is an investment banker, & he’s sprawled across the polished hardwood in his sock feet playing with his daughter, Hazel. She’s a very proud two & a half. Don’t forget the half. The other little one is Magnolia, who’s busy modeling her brand new LL Bean backpack. It’s monogrammed, not for stature, but so it doesn’t get confused with anyone else’s. She shows it to…
Day 11: Your Current Relationship. If Single; Discuss That Too I check the status box that says Married. Finally. I mean, 33 isn’t exactly old maid age in the grand scheme of things, but in the South you might as well be dead & buried. I won’t bore you to tears with “our story” But here’s the high points: • It was love at first sight for me. He came in to buy dog food & I was smitten • Our first date he picked up hitchhikers who were hiking the AT & we dropped them off in Gatlinburg Then we went hiking (no makeup, no painful shoes, no fancy clothes= AWESOME) & to Texas Roadhouse, where I told him that if he was expecting me to be the type of girl who orders a salad, he was severely mistaken. I ordered barbeque chicken • I don’t call him Shug because he’s sweet. It’s a brand of chardonnay. • When I was losing my mind over all the wedding details, he didn’t understand what the big deal was. His exact words: “Just find you a dress, & get your girls, & we’ll find someplace to get married. It ain’t no big deal.” Which really caused me to go ballistic. • My family likes him better than they like me. My uncle says if I divorce him, he’s welcome to come live at his house. He can have the whole downstairs. Uncle Dale refers to him…
Day 29: The Night of Your 21st Birthday We-ell…. By most peoples’ standards, it was fairly tame. But hey, I had a blast! I was dating someone at the time who was not a drinker, & he reluctantly released me to a few friends & a night on the town. We started on the Cumberland Strip, like any 21 year old with any sense. I’m not entirely sure who all was there, but I do remember putting salt INTO my tequila shot & staring, mesmerized, as it fizzed. I had obviously had more than one shot prior, with salt where it’s SUPPOSED to go, on your wrist. And I don’t remember what else. But I do remember the tequila. I think we had dinner at Sunspot? Then I remember wanting to go foam dancing & being gently coaxed from that decision with promise of another bar. I’m thinking O’Charleys? It used to be a happenin’ little joint. I can only partially blame my memory loss on alcohol, this was many moons ago. I *think* that was as much bar hopping as we did, & headed back to a house in Sequoyah Hills, where one of my friends was house sitting. There was a hot tub, which I briefly visited with a..wine cooler?? Bottle of wine?? Not sure. Then I remembered I hate hot tubs, probably due to my high blood pressure. I think…
I missed my writing challenge yesterday. Day 26: Things You’d Say to an Ex Well, y’all know me, I don’t let no grass grow…to one I’ve said pretty much everything I care to say. Including the infamous note ending with, “p.s. I took the cookie dough, you b@$~*9” To another I would say, “Did it ever cross your mind that you should pay me back?” But to ALL I would say, “Look how happy I am. Maybe if you took some lessons from Shug you could find happiness, too.” I’m not bitter, & I’m not sorry for the experiences I’ve had, but I do feel that I’m where I’m supposed to be. Day27: What You Wore Today I’m pretty dull looking. I wanted to be easily recognizable as a Co-op employee (I would have worn overalls if I had any that fit) so I’m in khaki pants, a navy Co-op collared shirt, & grey (I only spell it gray when I’m describing the sky or inanimate objects. I don’t know why.) tennis shoes. I have on my “perfectly imperfect” bracelet, my crown ring, & hoop earrings from Shug. My hair’s up in a twist, which sounds fancy but it’s not. And, as usual, my heart’s on my sleeve. More on that later…
Day 25: Four Weird Traits You Have I’m struggling. I feel pretty normal, but that’s what you get when you work in retail. By comparison, I am definitely mild. 1.) Tuletta says I’m weird because I don’t like nuts & that my truck has a name. She says only abnormal people name their trucks. But the guy standing here waiting on the straw blower said everyone he knows is abnormal, then. I asked him what his truck’s name is & it was Wilma. I thought that was great. I asked why Wilma? He says because every mornin’ he goes out & says, “Will my {mah} truck start? Will my truck run? Will my truck stay runnin’ all day?” I polled, & John is in agreement that it is weird I named my truck. 2.) Robin says it’s strange that I’m so straightforward. It is abnormal in the South to tell it like it is, & I always have. Also that I tell the truth. You don’t get a lot of that these days. No worries with me. You get what you ask for-an honest opinion. Sometimes you don’t even have to ask for it. 3.) Tuletta thought of another one—that I underline in books. I underline a LOT. That IS weird. Most people don’t write in books. I make a point to use a pencil. Except in my Bible, I exclusively use a pen…
Day 24: Something You Miss Of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most. 😉 This specifies “something”, so it can’t be a person. But it could be a person’s LOVE….Hmmm… I miss the unconditional love of my dog. But I love having the unparalleled joy of the Bug now. I miss the innocence of childhood, not having a job other than picking up sticks out of the yard & keeping my room cleaned up. But I am thankful to be grown & appreciate the value of hard work & know how much it takes to spend ten dollars on something frivolous. I miss the days when we weren’t eat up with Yankees & Dotheads. There is no but. I miss when I didn’t have to worry about spots on my skin being cancerous. But I’m glad I’ve lived long enough to have “age spots” & been fortunate enough to be out in the sun long enough to get freckles. I miss reading all day, but I’m thankful I have Shug to occupy my time these days. I miss people telling the truth, & not skirting the issue. But there have always been snakes. I guess I’m glad I’m not naïve anymore…
Day 22: Your Morning Routine Weekdays obviously vary from weekends. Weekdays I get up between 5:30-6. Pour a cup of coffee & settle down to read emails, texts from night before, notifications on Facebook. Glance at clock & wonder how it got to be 6:15. Kiss Shug goodbye. Think about getting dressed but decide a game of candy crush never hurt anybody. The next time I look up it’s twenty till seven. Hmm. Better not scroll Instagram. Pick out jewelry first, because that’s the best part, and determines what kind of attitude I will have that day (Sassy, always, but there are variations). Underthings, socks (also dependent on outfit), pants, top, shoes set by the door to go on very last thing because I hate shoes. Do I have time for breakfast? Yes. Soggy cocopuffs or AppleJacks usually. And a banana. If I take my lunch, this is when I’m grabbing the leftovers in the pyrex dish or the hot pockets & grapes. If I’m smart, I will take my shirt back off to brush teeth. If not, brush teeth & cuss for getting toothpaste down front of shirt. Dab at it & decide whether to roll with it (usually), add scarf, or change. Still need to make the bed. I fleetingly wonder why I bother, then remember that in the event of a home invasion & I’m shot & killed (not likely, as I am armed…
