So, not doing so great on the writing challenge so far. Fairy tale still in progress, and I’ll have to post my fanfic for day #2 at a later date, so you’ll get an extra post one of these days. But I did manage to write a story for today’s prompt, which is: Write a story that takes place pre-1950s. It’s short, but it’s a post. 🙂 It’s set during the potato famine, which I’ve always wanted to write about, with two characters I’ve wanted to follow for a bit. This is just a dialogue between the two; hopefully I can expand it into a story one of these days. Read the rest of this entry
My lovely friend Beth messaged me a week or so ago. “Jeriann! want to do a writing challenge with me?!” She accompanied this excited question with a link to a writing challenge. (I’ll get to that in a minute.) It’s a thirty day writing challenge, with a prompt for each day. I’m not sure if the person who posted it on Tumblr realizes that February is only 28 days this year, but that’s ok for me, because I found a 25 day writing challenge that I can do after that, so that it will be the end of March before I have to come up with my own ideas for posting again.
I’ve done writing challenges and similar things before, and I can’t guarantee that I will follow the prompt each day, but I will try my hardest to be inspired by it. I figure as long as I write every day, the challenge is met. If you’re interested, you can find the challenge I am participating in here: 30 Day Creative Writing Challenge
I would be posting the first day’s writing, except for two things. Read the rest of this entry
One good thing about the period where I hadn’t had my car was that I made really good friends with my co-workers. School was closer to work than my house, so I would usually walk there straight from school if I worked, which put me there an hour early. So I hung out in the lobby and joked around with whoever was working. But on days when I worked later, or on weekends, I still had to walk. It was a cold winter. I ended up being sick almost all of January, and missing out on some shifts because of it. That was not helping my car fund.
Finally, in April, my mechanic called. He knew we were looking for a car, and one of his customers was looking to sell his. I was excited beyond belief. I was getting a car! It was another Oldsmobile, a white LSS. Dale, my mechanic, checked it out for me and made sure it was in good condition before we bought it. I had to make some payments, because the insurance money wasn’t enough to cover it, but it was the best deal we were going to get. Once again, I had a car.
I named her Thelma, because she was an old lady. I had not seen Thelma and Louise, but I had heard of it, and I thought Thelma was the perfect name for my car. Unfortunately, that gave her a horrible fate. Read the rest of this entry
One of my favorite stories to tell is my car history. My truck is very dear to me, and how I came to get him is quite an entertaining story. So, I’ve decided to relate the story in 3 parts, one for each car that I’ve owned. So I hope you have some popcorn and possibly a tissue box (ok, you probably won’t need one, but I did at the time.) Here’s part one; Come back the next two days for the rest of the story.
Like every teenager, I couldn’t wait to get my driver’s license and a car. Getting a car meant freedom. It also meant I had to get a job. But before I could even start to worry about that, I had to learn to drive. Read the rest of this entry
During my last semester of college, I took a science writing class. Despite it’s name, and luckily for me, it was not about writing technical science jargon or lab reports. It mostly covered nature writing and bringing scientific issues to the general population by interweaving personal experiences with scientific fact.
I loved the class, which was taught by Ceiridwen Terrill, author of Part Wild, a memoir about her experiences owning a part wolf.
In the class, we were told one day to write a childhood nature memory, using as much detail as possible. Here is the result.
Childhood Nature Memory
As I walk down the overgrown paths near my Grandma’s house, the sights overload my nine-year old brain. I’m visiting Grammy and her husband, Tom, in Yerington, Nevada, which is basically the middle of nowhere. The land is mostly desert, but not far from the house there’s a patch of trees. To my mind, I’m in an endless desert that in need of exploring. I run into the house every night rambling about the animal prints I see. “Maybe if you were quieter, you’d see some animals too.” Grandpa Tom quips. I don’t really pay attention to him though. The animals obviously just didn’t come out to play at the same hours I did.
One evening, Grammy decides that we are going for a walk. We walk along an animal beaten trail toward the trees. When we get near a clearing before the tree cluster, Grammy pulls me back, telling me to be quiet. Seconds later, the clearing is filled with almost fifty deer, heading toward the water that I can’t believe exists in this barren land. Not a hundred feet away from us are more deer than I’ve seen in my entire life.
Later at the house, I tell Grandpa Tom what we’ve seen. “See! I am quiet enough!” Grammy and Tom just looked at each other mischievously and let me continue my excited ramblings.
A while ago, due to some outings and random conversations, a group of friends and I started referring to going out, drinking, dancing, and having a good time as “networking”. I decided to write a piece about this, but format it as a classroom worksheet, which the character was using as a diary of sorts rather than completing the assignment. Below are the results. I haven’t looked at it for a while, and think I want to expand on it, either as is, or incorporating it into a larger work. Let me know what you think and if you have any other suggestions for questions/answers that could be on the worksheet. Read the rest of this entry
The sail screams,
begging me to stop it from being stolen by the wind.
I oblige, reining it in with all my might.
Now it begs to be free, to be filled with the wind.
I give it some freedom, but not so much that it can run away.
The sail is like a child.
It doesn’t know what it wants. Read the rest of this entry
A punny fellow English major friend and I almost named this one “stream of conciousness.” But the title as it is is perfect, and though I’ve thought of making many changes after readers misunderstood and just failed to “get” this piece, it says exactly what I want it to, and I can’t really imagine any changes without compromising the piece.
Without further rambling…
It is a gorgeous day. I swim freely in my lovely, fast-paced stream, loving life. For a while, I was afraid that I would regret leaving the cave-pond where I grew up, but I longed to escape. I needed change. So I left, and I am loving my life in this action-packed river. But don’t be fooled. Though I have been sheltered, I am not ignorant of the ways of this world. I know the dangers that lurk around every corner, waiting to catch me unawares.
So of course, your bait does not fool me. Yes, that plump worm is tempting, floating there, just begging to be snatched up, but I know that hiding beneath that fleshy mass is a wiry hook- a hook that has caught many fish already, and will catch many more. I refuse to be one of those fish. Read the rest of this entry
The lonely, pale apple hung from the tree as all the children reached for its brighter, more appetizing counterparts. Sharlene, a girl of eight years old, looked up at the tree, stretching her small head as far back as it would go, and decided she would be the one to get the apple at the very top. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and scrambled to start her ascent.
As the lone apple longingly watched her climb past, it felt a tickle in its skin. A worm was coming to visit! The apple did not mind the worm’s invasive presence, as it so deeply longed for company. Perhaps the worm would stay the night in the burrow it had created. Nights were so much warmer with a friend. Read the rest of this entry