Photo by Troy wade on Unsplash
“Really?”
“What?” Juvan asked from behind his camera lens.
She shook her head and went back to scrolling through the breakup text, ignoring her now-ex documenting the last stages of their relationship for his all-important Instagram account.
(words 37; first published July 3, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)
Photo by Molly Blackbird on Unsplash
Screaming, Murray jumped back. What the actual fuck?
Until now the haunted house had been normal. Kids in makeup, props, unsteady walks. A curved path he followed year after year, except the year he was one of the kids in makeup.
This year, under new management, funhouse mirrors replaced the old blood room. A twisted gate separated the brightly mirror room from a lightless room he never been in and wasn’t part of the building … couldn’t be part of the building if he remembered things right and hadn’t gotten turned around. Then a flash revealed a creature made entirely of arms.
Hence why he screamed.
Another flash revealed the arms separating with no related bodies and coming toward him.
(words 120, first published 3/28/2022, from a FB visual prompt for a writing group I belong to)
Acquired from the internet hive mind
“Karen at 10.” Brad glanced at his co-worker, whose unfortunate name actually was Karen, though her hairstyle and tattoos (carefully covered by the company shirt) indicated her rebellion against the establishment and its rules. “When you turn forty, do the hair saloons automatically start cutting your hair that way?”
(words 49, first published 3/28/2022, from a FB word prompt (Rules) for a writing group I belong to)
Photo by Muhammad Ruqiyaddin on Unsplash
“Really, really? How the …” Julia sputtered to a stop. “These things don’t just happen.”
Onighgah shook her head and turned away. “Maybe in your world.”
“What do you mean ‘my world’?” Confusion infused the words.
Running a quick hand over her headwrap, the black woman considered how to respond to her white friend. Nearly friend, someone from work who she lunched with when they sat in the cafeteria since they always were on break together and the room only had two tables. It would have been noticeably rude to sit at the other one. Unfortunately today she got a phone call to bail her brother out of jail which Julia had overheard and one thing led to another.
“In your world, walking down the street doesn’t end with someone questioning why you are in the neighborhood.”
Julia rolled her eyes.
“White privilege is a thing. A real thing, girl.” Onighgah continued.
After a quick puff of exasperation, Julia shook her head. “Blah, blah. Slavery. Oppression. Come on. That is ages ago. Get over it. This is America.” Julie swept her hand around the small room where the large store retail employees were required to take their breaks. “If you are failing, it is on you.”
Onighgah’s teeth ground.
“Whatever your brother did, he shouldn’t have been doing it.”
“He.was.walking.to.his.class.” Each word bit the air with frost. “The.one.he.teaches.at.the.high.school.”
“If that is all he was doing, the cops wouldn’t have bothered him.”
“You—“ The black woman cut herself off as her voice raised. “No, not going there.” After packing the balance of her lunch up in the brown paper bag she brought today, she stood. She crushed it between her hands, back and forth, kneading it like a baseball. “Come with me to bail him out.” She finally spat.
“What?”
“Tonight, after work, come with me to bail him out. We’ll do a little makeup, you got a dark Italian coloring, it won’t take much. Wrap one of my extra scarfs around your head.”
“Are you crazy?” Julia stared up at her co-worker.
“I dare you.”
(words 346; first published 4/19/2020)
P is for prejudice
Image courtesy of the NaNoWriMo hive mind on the Internet
Sometimes, somedays, you just can’t get started. You and the blank screen pixels have become one. Maybe you are between works. Maybe you are coming off of editing. Maybe you don’t know where to go with the work in-progress (WIP). Maybe work was exhausting. Maybe you suffered a loss, an argument, you’re sick – mind or body or emotions just ain’t working yet.
And sometimes …. sometimes there is just nothing.
You may need to Prime the Pump. Just do a simple little exercise of 100 words. That is all you got to write. One hundred words. Maybe with 100 words you can write 100 more. Once the brain gets moving in one direction, it continues moving.
Collect a couple ideas and set them aside in a “Prime the Pump” list. You need to prepare in advance, because you likely won’t think of anything when you are in the middle of the ennui.
Examples for the list would be:
An Excel file should work just fine for the list. These are not meant to be an opus or even a sellable item. Just 100 words to kick start the day of writing. When you hit 100 words, switch out. Save the bit into the Prime the Pump folder with the day’s date and then go to the project you should be working on. Maybe have it already open, so you don’t even have to think about the switch. Just close out on the Prime the Pump file and go-go-go. The object is to get writing anything – so you can write something.
For date formatting, I would recommend year-month-day format, that way the list appears in date order. Example:
2014 10 22 – Where I sit
2016 09 22 – Want to cry
2019 10 22 – The Kiss
By the way, if priming the pump doesn’t keep the words flowing after the switch out, give yourself permission to stop if you need to. You wrote something. Only 100 words, but if you are heartsick, or stressed, or whatever it is your brain is occupied with instead of writing, trying to write Product may not be happening today.
Give yourself permission because you tried. You actually put words on a screen. You tested to make sure it wasn’t just enough to start typing.
On the other hand, the attempt of Priming the Pump may keep you typing for hours – which is why you tested yourself. You never know which it is until you tried.
WRITING EXERCISE: Create a writing folder for Prime the Pump. Then create a PrimeThePump.xls (Excel) file. Record ten ideas. Write one of them and post it below.
***
My Attempt: Where I sit when I am typing
Despite the heavy gray curtains, the afternoon sun shines in my eyes and overheats my face, interfering with my ability to concentrate on the computer screen. Glancing left and right , blinking the spots out of my eyes, shelves of books and towers of CDs and DVDs beg me to waste time with them. Studiously ignoring them, I curl my toes against the smooth wooden floors and bang out another 100 words. (72 words)