Week 4: Truth or Consequences Prompts.....
Respond on your blog to 3 of these 4. Remember these are not questions on a test--even if they sound like it--and I don't care about the answers. They are springboards for writing of your own on the week 4 theme--the writing is what I care about. So, don't be fooled by the question format into thinking your job is to 'answer.' DO NOT ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS!
13. I just googled the phrase 'if these could talk.' Wow, if these walls could talk, sure, but also if these hips could talk, if these cars could talk, if these pots could talk, if these dolls could talk, if these old keys could talk, if these stones could talk, if your boss could talk, if these trees could talk, if these quasars could talk--well, there are 7 or 8 million more entries to hunt through.... You've just spent a week writing about stuff in a journal, thinking about the walled-in room where you're working. What inanimate thing do you wish could talk?
14. Wishing? Lying? Dreaming? Dancing? Boxing? Cooking? What is writing like for you?
15. You have a friend, lover, s.o., parent, whomever--and you have a magic potion. Once they take it they will tell you the absolute truth for one minute. Who do you give it to and what do they say?
16. Somebody just offered me the chance to get paid for gassing on about one of my favorite topics: dogs. What would you like to be paid to talk about?
13. I just googled the phrase 'if these could talk.' Wow, if these walls could talk, sure, but also if these hips could talk, if these cars could talk, if these pots could talk, if these dolls could talk, if these old keys could talk, if these stones could talk, if your boss could talk, if these trees could talk, if these quasars could talk--well, there are 7 or 8 million more entries to hunt through.... You've just spent a week writing about stuff in a journal, thinking about the walled-in room where you're working. What inanimate thing do you wish could talk?
14. Wishing? Lying? Dreaming? Dancing? Boxing? Cooking? What is writing like for you?
15. You have a friend, lover, s.o., parent, whomever--and you have a magic potion. Once they take it they will tell you the absolute truth for one minute. Who do you give it to and what do they say?
16. Somebody just offered me the chance to get paid for gassing on about one of my favorite topics: dogs. What would you like to be paid to talk about?
posted by johngoldfine | 9/14/2013 07:48:00 AM
106 Comments:
15. Who do you give truth potion to for one minute, and what do they say?
I gave truth serum to a certain doctor and this is what he said. “ I f----- up. I never told your family before, but I know I did. I was in a hurry to do the operation, so I could look like the hero, and I hadn’t researched it enough. I should have waited for the other guy, the more knowledgeable guy, to help me. I thought I knew what I was doing. Just another cut – fix - stitch ‘em up case. I should have listened to her parents, and used one of them. And then, when she had the stroke, and everything went downhill, I was too embarrassed, not professional, to admit my bad judgment. Every now and then I see her at clinic, and I see the results of my mistake, and it hurts. I see how I’ve hurt her and her family. I’ve hurt you, too. I can’t change it. I wish I could. It won’t make you feel any better, but I’ve learned from this mistake. I have to ask----Will you accept my apology?”
Truthfully? No.
There are many bad ways of dealing with 15, reta--it's one of those prompts I always tell myself I should get rid of because it's so easy to get silly or weird or bitter or obscure.
What I rarely see is a piece like this. The writer is confident that she doesn't have to explain everything--she can still engage her reader. The writer is confident that she doesn't have to shout--the material speaks for itself. The writer is confident that she hardly had to be in the piece at all--the last two words are all she needs of herself. The writer is even confident that she can reasonably reconstruct the thoughts and feelings of this man she cannot possibly like or sympathize with--and that confidence is not misplaced.
14. What is writing like for me?
For me, writing is like playing the game of Scrabble. I get the beginning tiles for the game, and the initial assignment from you, and then I have to make something out of each. The first tiles I get may not give me a clear word to write, like your assignment the first time I read it, but the more I look at them, rearrange them, think about it, the more I read your instructions, I then get ideas of which letters/words to use to get the end result – a word, and a written piece. After the first word is done and the first lines written, more tiles are added for another word on the board, and more ideas/words are added to my writing. If I don’t like the word(s) I think of, I can change it/them (hence the editing I do several times before submitting it). My best hope is to be given some good tiles (ideas, suggestions) so I can be successful in my game/writing. It’s all a luck of the draw……good tiles mean good words. Good words mean good writing.
Hey reta--that's a healthy approach. Writing is work, hard work, and from confusion and pain come clarity and peace. Many students get mad that I can't make the pain and confusion disappear, not realizing, as you do, that workin through all that is the writer's task.
15. You have a friend, lover, s.o., parent, whomever--and you have a magic potion. Once they take it they will tell you the absolute truth for one minute. Who do you give it to and what do they say?
Giving the magic potion to my dad would be an eye opening expierence for me and my family. My dad has always hid behind his addiction to alcohol. I would like to know why he does what he does, if he knows what it does to me and my family.
He responds, "I don't know how to cope any other way in my life, I'm not happy in my life and I need an outlet. To me my alcohol is a way of dealing with everyday life and everything around me. I never meant to hurt you, your mom or your brother and sister, I don't want to hurt anyone else anymore. Iam only doing this for me. Selfish. Iam SELFISH."
So maybe this is what I imagine him saying because I am making excuses for me and I just want him to apologize for once for everything he has done to me and everyone else. Making everyone argue and be so bitter towards him and each other. I do want to hear the truth from him, but maybe it would be too much of the truth for me to handle? I think I like just hearing silence.
13. What inanimate thing do you wish could talk?
The old picture in my hand is silent. There’s no writing on the back of it, telling who the people are. I’d like to know who the two ladies and man are. Talk to me. Answer my questions. Is she one of the women? I don’t recognize her. They look like young adults. Were they relatives of mine, or just friends posing for a picture? What year was it? Why did we find you between the pages of the book? Maybe she never wanted anyone to see you. Tell me whose old Ford they’re standing if front of, and why he has his arms around both ladies. Should I keep you, or trash you? Solve this mystery. Talk to me. I know you can help me. All pictures have a lot to say.
What is writing like for me?
Why my husband and I ever had a second date, I truly don't know. To hear him talk about our first date now, he compares it to pulling teeth. Apparently I was very quiet. This is nothing new to me, I have been told I am too quiet all my life. It's not that I don't have anything to say, but rather that there is such a filter in my brain that the words have to go through (what will they think if I say this? is this going to offend anyone? is this relevant?) that by the time I am ready to speak, the conversation has already shifted gears. With age has came confidence and I am getting much better at speaking my mind. But this isn't a speaking class, is it? My non-fictional writing has not yet taken on the same confidence and ease. It is indeed like pulling teeth.
What inanimate thing do you wish could talk?
A pile of bones in a museum is all that is left of this once fierce meat-eating creature. Do we have an accurate liking of the color and texture of your skin? What about the look in your eyes or your mannerisms and the way you communicated?
I wish you knew how many people are in awe of you and your magnificence. I'm glad you don't know that we really wouldn't want to share the earth with you.
Could you please tell me how you came to be extinct? We think we know, but we have changed our minds in the past. A great mystery could finally be solved if only you could tell me.
What would you like to be paid to talk about?
Being a good parent is the hardest job in the world. The more I work in the school, the more I realize that parents do not have a grasp of how they are molding their children into the adults they will become. Kids come in quoting and mimicing their parents negativity and disrespect and then they get in trouble. Children don't come with a hand book and I am far from perfect, but I think I could teach some people a thing or two about how to raise happy, healthy children.
14. What is Writing like for you?
Writing is just like a day at at work for me. When I first get to work I usually have no idea what I am going to be getting myself into. This reminds me of when I turn on my MacBook and select the Creative Writing class bookmark. As I start to wake up from taking that first sip of coffee is when I read the prompt and that lightbulb goes off and I start to put what’s going on inside my head down on the keyboard.
Digging into a nasty, stinky, grimy car is just like digging into a paper you have to write. And that’s not just a creative writing paper, any paper. You have to find some where to start and how to start it. What cleaning product to use or what style of writing. What area to clean, what part of the paper to write about. These questions arise as I start writing a paper and detailing a car. Getting to the end of both I refer to as sealing it up. Sealing up the paper would be how I word a conclusion, bring some points, together, or just sum things up. Sealing up a car is either throwing an extra hand wax for protection, a pin stripe maybe, or extra tire dressing to make those things really shine.
15. Who do you give the potion to and what do they say?
My magic potion would be one that makes you tell the truth for a minute and bring pets back to life and make them able to talk. I would give it to my dog that I grew up with. He was my best friend. He was given to me as a birthday present when I was five years old, which is about how far back I can remember. We did everything together, and went everywhere together. Well okay, not every where but damn close. His name was Rocco, he was a pure bred rottweiler, when he was full grown he was about 125 pounds. He was full grown when I was about 8. He was so much bigger than me I feel like I looked up to him as an older brother almost, not having a human one of course.
But I would give the potion to him so we could talk about memories and all of the good times for about 45 seconds. The other would be to ask him if he really knew that it was his time to go. When he turned 12 he started to go downhill. When he could barely walk we knew we had to put him down. In his younger years when we took him to the vet my dad had to handle him because he was livid. He hated everything about the vet and every other animal that was there. But when we took him into be put down he jumped out and walked right to the door like nothing was wrong with him. To this day I don’t get what gave him that much energy or power to move himself like he did to get into the vet.
He would tell me that he was indeed ready to be put to rest. He would then go on to tell me that he lived a glorious life and will always remember everything we did together. How we grew up together. But I knew it was my time to go when we went to that vet. I knew that there was nothing that the vet could have done to me the last time. It just clicked to me once you helped me into the car. I knew it was over.
13. What inanimate thing do you wish could talk?
The ring I wear on my right hand sparkles without the light. Inside the band it says "Bea". It was my great-grandmothers ring, my nana "bea". Putting the ring on my finger everyday, I think what would this ring say if it could talk? It would tell me all the hard times my nana had growing up in the early 1900's. How it saw when she took her rings off everyday to tend to the chickens and the cows she had on her farm. I only know these things because of what she told me from stories, but I yearn for more. I know this ring has seen many things, on such a beautiful, courageous woman I can only imagine.
16.
I would love to be paid to talk about my dog, Roscoe.
Everything I talk about, whether it be at work or school or with friends, I can relate to Roscoe.
No matter what you say to me, ask me or tell me, Roscoe is sure to have a part in what I reply with.
I don't only stress how absolutely adorable he is, how many wrinkles he has, how hilarious he can be, how funny his expressions are, but I also advocate for Pit Bulls in general and love to help people in search of a life time friend.
Although I will probably never actually get paid to talk about Roscoe (or Pit Bulls), his name will continue to over used.
14.
Writing gives me the same feeling I get when I think about my own death.
It emotional. It stresses me out, scares me, intimidates me and haunts me.
I specifically don't care for "prompted" writing. I could write for days, un-fazed, about a topic of my choice.
I'm constantly worried about all the details. I write, forget something, go back, add in the detail and then do it all over again.
Sometimes, I edit. I feel like I'm lieing, especially when it's an assignment. But there are just some topics from my past too touchy to bring into the mix.
I feel like my writing is messy and scattered. My frustration level goes through the roof, and when I get frustrated, I shut down. It's not something I'm proud of, but I've done that since I can remember. And in high school (continued into college), my grades reflected that.
Sometimes, when I read these prompts, I feel like throwing my laptop. Or simply X'ing out of the page and acting like I never saw it.
13.
"Your insane. One second your laughing, the next second your screaming, then the tears come. You cry for a good chunk of time, but then re-start the cycle and begin laughing again. What the hell is wrong with you?!!? Get a grip!!!"
My cellphone is brutally honest.
The truth hurts, but the more I think about it, the more I think I really am insane.
Maybe I'm psychotic? Schizophrenic? Should I call a doctor? Will they put me in an institution? What will my parents say?
I contemplate all the possibilities but in the end, I chalk it up to stress. I blame it on everything and everyone around me.
It can't be my fault.
16. What would you like to be paid to talk about?
A rewarding and interesting job to be paid for I think would be talking to young adults who are about to graduate from high school about the importance of going to college. Talking to them about putting their all into it and giving them the tools and life expierences I have had to help accomplish their goals in life. I have learned a lot from the time I graduated high school, from knowing now that I should have gone to college and stuck with it right out of high school. To knowing that you have to try your best because in the end it will only help you accomplish everything you want in life. I feel like I could help a lot of young adults to learn from my mistakes in life to help them not make the same choices. Showing them that maybe right now you feel like it would be great not to have to go to school and just work and have money but, in a couple years or maybe months you will realize that you need a college education to get anywhere these days. When mom said "go to school and get an education." she wasn't kidding.
emily, 15--I like how you give us the potion and then reinsert yourself in and say, 'no, better not, rather not deal with it.' Taking the topic and playing with it as you like (as you do here) is usually a very good plan
reta, 13--read it without the last two sentences--works better for me that way, where you are left pleading to a silent picture for answers. This one is a corker, offering a different, offbeat approach that is very intriguing
kristie, writing--I like the description of your filter and like even better your comparison of starting a class to a first date. Dealing with a reading audience is very much like the same kind of pressure you feel on a date.
kristie, inanimate--I don't think this can work unless we can visualize the bones and know what animal they came from. Without that info, everything is in the writer's mind, nothing in the reader's.
kristie, parents--try a rewrite on this. Here's a teaser sentence that just begs for details, examples, stories. With them added you'll have something.
"Kids come in quoting and mimicing their parents negativity and disrespect and then they get in trouble."
derek, 14--interesting comparison--you make it work here; I get the feeling that everything in life in the end is like detailing a car!
Aww shit, derek, I get very shaky over death-of-dog stories. Don't do that to me!
You do a great job with those three grafs, really taking the prompt for a ride, offering an origin, a life, and a death, all done in style, especially the part about the dog's short speech.
Dogs do have some ideas about this. I've had dogs go off into a blizzard to die, dogs who I didn't think could walk ten feet. I've had dogs who hated to be held crawl into my lap at the end. I had a dog who was terrified of guns lick the muzzle of the rifle a second before she died.
emily, 13--many times a graf has a beating heart. Here's this one's:
"How it saw when she took her rings off everyday to tend to the chickens and the cows she had on her farm." That creates a visual and a bit of a story and give background in just a few words.
zoe, 16--you might like this:
http://www.amazon.com/Bandit-Dossier-Dangerous-Vicki-Hearne/dp/158579046X
zoe, 14--but you know these prompts are just a way to goose you. I want you to choose your own topics really, and these prompts will almost never limit or prevent that. Just give them a little twist, eh?
But I'm glad to hear your connection to your writing is intense, emotional, not always pleasant or easy. Join the club.
zoe, 13--knowing where to stop and how to craft a drop-dead close are valuable bits of writer craft, as you demo here
emily, 16--I didn't think anyone ever listened to their hs guidance counselor but it sounds as if you did....
16.
I would love to be paid to talk about gaming. Not one specific type of gaming, but gaming as a whole. I’ve experience just about all of it: from board games to card games and miniature games to roleplaying games, and of course video games; I love them all!
I can’t remember when I started play games, I’m sure most people can’t, but most of them can’t pretty much remember when they stopped… obviously I never did. But as I’ve grown up, so has my game selection. This doesn’t just mean those video games that are “Rated M for Mature” because honestly that doesn’t make them good games.
Lately I’ve been hanging out at a gaming shop in Bangor where I often get mistaken for an employee. When someone walks in and starts looking at a game I usually go and talk to them, ask them about the kind of game their looking for and help them find one that I think they’ll enjoy. It’s not really because I like people, or because I want to help out the store, but I know that the games are ALL good and I want to make sure that when that person goes home with a game they don’t think it’s crappy and only play it once. A good game is meant to be played, not to sit on a shelf.
Wishing? Lying? Dreaming? Dancing? Boxing? Cooking? What is writing like for you?
What is writing like to me? Dreaming that dream that starts out so perfect and beautiful, then... all of the sudden it turns into a nightmare. Not all of it can be controlled. It takes on a mind of its own. Sometimes, if I don't wake up in time, the story gets all twisted and skewed. Crazy turns and insane actions! Then I wake up, not all the way. Kind of like daydreaming. It still has a mind of its own, only I can steer it this way or that. Building it up until...
Do I always love it? No. Would I ever stop? No. I like being able to dream to much to ever give it up.
14. Wishing? Lying? Dreaming? Dancing? Boxing? Cooking? What is writing like for you?
Writing for me is like playing tennis. I swing, I run, I sprint, I serve, I miss, I make the winning shot, I stop, I start again. Just as I have to keep practicing the game of tennis in order to improve, I have to constantly keep working on my writing. The only way you can get better at the game is to put more effort into your practices and the only way you can improve at writing is to keep at it and train hard. I find that I have to really focus on what I am writing and that is when I do well and make the winning shot. But sometimes I fall short and swing hard but miss the target completely. Even if I bring my a-game, I have good and bad days. I win some, I lose some. When I write it is like I am playing the mental part of tennis against myself. I have to find my weaknesses and take advantage of them. I have to figure out what I can't do well and take the next step to figure out how to defeat it. But no matter what there is always room for improvement in the complex game of tennis and in the complex world of writing.
14. Wishing? Lying? Dreaming? Dancing? Boxing? Cooking?
What is writing like for you?
Writing for me is like jumping off my parents roof into the snow banks with my brothers when we were little. Everytime they'd ask to go jump in the banks, I'd immediately say yes and jump right up to get ready and go complete the task! But once I'd get up there I didn't want to do it, I was too scared! What if I jump the wrong way, (what if I choose the wrong topic?), what if it hurts when I land, (What if the teacher doesnt like my writing?". and I'm too scared, I can't (trouble choosing a topic). But once I jump and land perfectly in the snow banks, I'd have this rush of "I DID IT"! Of course, after finishing whatever I'm writing, I feel so relieved that it's over, but I'm left questioning if the teacher will like it.
16. Somebody just offered me the chance to get paid for
gassing on about one of my favorite topics: dogs. What
would you like to be paid to talk about?
I'd like to be paid to talk about my husband, David. I don't have any kids, so David is the person I spend ALL of my time with, he's my best friend. I could talk about all the types of food he ates, the funny, sarcastic, witty comments he makes, the things he likes to do, the things he doesn't like to do, and his quirky little habits he does without noticing. It'd be a never ending book if I talked about him hours after hours.
13. What inanimate thing do you
wish could talk?
I wish the front door of my house could talk, or my drive way. I'm usually home alone from 4am-2:3-pm and then I leave for work. So from 4am-2:30pm I wish my drive way could talk, and alert me when someone was coming. I HATE being home alone, especially at night. More times than not, people I dont even know come at weird times, wondering if they can walk around the back lawn to look for 'old stuff' (since I live in an old farm house), a drunk guy came over once wondering where he was and if he could come in to use my phone, not to be rude, but, uh, NO! MAYBE if someone was there with me. One time when I came home from running 2 miles, there was someone standing in my drive way that took off runnning into the woods when he saw me. It'd be helpful to have the drive way talk so I could prepare myself to the next nut case that knocks on my door. As for 2:30 until about 7pm, I wish my front door could talk to let me know who, if anyone came over, in case there was a nut case that was there when I wasnt. David doesnt get home until about 7 too, so I come home to an empty dark house, which I also hate.
What is writing like for me?
Writing to me is like a tug-a-war game. A game that I have always enjoyed and hated at the same time. Starting off in the tug-a-war is always the easiest just like writing. Once you've been there for a while it gets harder and harder to hold onto the rope(or the concept that you are writing about)
13:
If my wallet coul talk, it would have some interesting stories. It hears most of what happens in my life but mostly just sees my bad choices.
“Should I buy that?” I ask myself, knowing the answer’s a resounding “NO!” yet still my wallet comes to see the light of day. I like to think that it’s on my side and trys to convince me not to buy things when I shouldn’t. Sometimes it hides in my pocket or backpack, and other times I discover that it’s hiding at home (which is never a good thing).
It also seems to be well acquainted with some of the neighborhood police. Not for anything horrible, mind you, it just seems to wave to them whenever I have a headlight out, then they pull me over to make sure it’s okay. I think they like it more then I do and I know it likes them more then I do.
Over all my wallet’s a good person, maybe I should pull it out more often when I’m hanging with my friends or working on homework, then it could get some stories about my good choices too!
14: Writing, to me, is like a battle. Whether it’s me vs the computer or my brain vs the paper, usually I feel like I’m loosing. Things could be going great, words just flowing from my finger tips, sentences written with the precision of marching soldiers, then BAM it all goes to crap.
Sometimes my brain shuts of, mid sentence the enemy takes out my communications relay and I get stuck, simply unable to think of the right word. Other times the story just slows to a halt as we take up our positions on either end of a bottle neck and fight for control. And then, in very rare occasions, I writing is the target of a precision nuclear strike as a cat attacks my laptops power cord and I lose everything!
It’s not always bad, though. Sometimes the battle goes my way. I’m able to fight off all of my obstacles and achieve the objective I’ve set out to complete. Sure, their can be casualties on the way. They’re usually those one or two sentences in a piece that simply don’t feel right, but I can’t seem to do anything about them. But even with a few casualties, a victory is a victory, and I’ve achieved one here today.
14: Writing, to me, is like a battle. Whether it’s me vs the computer or my brain vs the paper, usually I feel like I’m loosing. Things could be going great, words just flowing from my finger tips, sentences written with the precision of marching soldiers, then BAM it all goes to crap.
Sometimes my brain shuts of, mid sentence the enemy takes out my communications relay and I get stuck, simply unable to think of the right word. Other times the story just slows to a halt as we take up our positions on either end of a bottle neck and fight for control. And then, in very rare occasions, I writing is the target of a precision nuclear strike as a cat attacks my laptops power cord and I lose everything!
It’s not always bad, though. Sometimes the battle goes my way. I’m able to fight off all of my obstacles and achieve the objective I’ve set out to complete. Sure, their can be casualties on the way. They’re usually those one or two sentences in a piece that simply don’t feel right, but I can’t seem to do anything about them. But even with a few casualties, a victory is a victory, and I’ve achieved one here today.
14. Wishing? Lying? Dreaming? Dancing? Boxing? Cooking? What is writing like for you?
All the dishes are clean, the floor’s swept, my bed’s made, homework is not done—Should I do that? Writing is a constant battle to get done. I find time to do it almost everyday, even if it’s just a line or two—a thought I jot down on paper and look at another time. Pieces are started and left in a folder, or on the back of school notes, or on paper with so and so’s number on it. I get ideas at random times of the day, or maybe I get random ideas at times of the day. Either way they come. I’ve been meaning to write something about the first time I saw the thick stacks of food stamp bills and remembering how happy I was that I didn’t have to worry for once.
I don’t plop down in front of my computer and say, “it’s time to write.” I could be in the kitchen, with a friend, out to eat, anywhere and the story emerges in my head and if I don’t get some of it down on paper in anyway, it’s gone and will not be written about. I can summon a my writing, but the best comes at random times. It’s like walking down the street and looking for a 5 dollar bill. You look for it, but won’t find it. If you don’t look for it, you run into it.
When finally I sit down to write something, something that I feel strong for, or something that I think will be good, I always look at it when I’m done and say, well, in the moment it looked great, but yesterday it looked amazing in my head. Tomorrow it will look terrible. Inspiration comes at random times.
Writing is when I see my confidence and tell myself, many people talk big games but don’t have it; I don’t talk a big game in writing, and I never will. I will never say that writing is easy, I will never say that I am a good writer. I’ll say that I write, and what I write is 25 percent good if not less. If people look at some of my writing and they like all of it and say, “wow you can write really well!” I shrug it off. Sometimes I would love to say, “yeah, you wanna look at all the other pieces that failed miserably and caused me to rethink a career in writing? Because there’s more than enough.” Writing hurts, writing takes time, writing is blood in ink form that slides down the face and sometimes into one’s mouth where you taste it and are set back for a moment—then wipe it away and go on.
16. Somebody just offered me the chance to get paid for gassing on about one of my favorite topics: dogs. What would you like to be paid to talk about?
Ironically, I would also love to get paid to talk about dogs also. Dogs are such unique, wonderful creatures. There are no other animals like them. They can make you laugh when you've had a bad day, they can make you smile when you are nervous, they can make you have a brand new attitude and lift your spirits when you are down. Dogs can really influence your life in a great way. Dogs have always been a part of my life since the beginning. I have had anything from full-blooded Beagles to medium sized muts, to pure-bred Great Danes. Whether the dog is as small as a coffee mug or as large as a pony, I think that they are an absolutely essential part of a good, healthy life. Because I have cared for so many different kinds of dogs, I have a good chunk of knowledge to share about them. I also love and am deeply involved in sports, especially tennis, so I would absolutely love to get paid to talk about the game of tennis. It has so many benefits to the physical well-being of the body and is tons of fun to play.
13. I just googled the phrase 'if these could talk.' Wow, if these walls could talk, sure, but also if these hips could talk, if these cars could talk, if these pots could talk, if these dolls could talk, if these old keys could talk, if these stones could talk, if your boss could talk, if these trees could talk, if these quasars could talk--well, there are 7 or 8 million more entries to hunt through.... You've just spent a week writing about stuff in a journal, thinking about the walled-in room where you're working. What inanimate thing do you wish could talk?
Looking straight ahead of me, I can see my computer screen watching, waiting for my next command. And I wonder, what if it could talk? What would it say? I think that would all depend on the day it is having. For example, if it is having a great day and it is working smoothly and correctly like it should be it might say something like, "At your service, what can I do for you? What can I help you achieve today? Let's see what huge mountain of assignments we can get done today." But when it is having a bad day and is not technologically up to par because I have been working on it for endless hours, it might say something like, "um, you know, you look pretty tired with those bags under your eyes. You have been doing work all day, don't you think it is time to quit? I am getting tired myself. You should really get some sleep girl."
13. I just googled the phrase 'if these could talk"...What inanimate thing do you wish could talk?
The green hills in the distance coming back from basketball practice in Cork, while driving on the highest street, going down the curviest road, the sun against a few houses, golden and scared. I want the hills to tell if he sees her and if she is okay.
“Can you see that far?” I’d ask, and he’d say, “No, but come up here and tell me what you see.”
I see the time I saw the hills in the distance, driving on the highest street, going down the curviest road, I say, moving my arms like a snake to show him the curves I went down—I had to stop looking—my stomach was going to bust from looking ahead at when I was going to leave, when she would move on, when I would move on, when my friends would go back to their normal way, like driving down the huge Helsinki highway where I see McDonalds on the side—where would I be, I asked him. You’ll be here, talking to me, not letting go, wondering—I let my arm fall, not showing the curves down the street.
What do you wonder about, I’d ask the hills. What do you wonder about, he’d ask me. Well, I don’t know—does Wuchowsen exist on this hill? Or is it just Katahdin he resides on? The hill would laugh at me. What I say? He’d tell me I can’t focus on anything.
Well, does he? I’d ask. Do you see a giant bird here!? He’d ask. Well, no, but I feel the wind. I feel the wind that feels like home. Maybe he’s blowing the wind for you to feel, he’d say.
Maybe, but that doesn’t answer my question: does he exist here? I’d ask.
You are crazy, the hill says to me. And you make me sound crazy. Wake up and look out your window.
I see snow, an icicle melting, and an envisioned hill that told me nothing, but let me ride the wind for a bit. I wish the hill didn’t talk.
15. Who do you give truth potion to for one minute, and what do they say?
I have asked my sister numerous times if this time it's for real. Are you really getting your shit together, "I know I've fucked up, Morg, and I don't want to be this way. I want my kids back, I want my life back, I want you to be proud of me. I don't want to seem like a burden on the family, I don't want to have my illnesses and I don't want to go any deeper in this hole. I love my children and I want to see them grow up and not pass the days how I have." I haven't even given her the potion yet. I hold it in my hand. There's a pattern I observed with her treatments, and it goes like this: nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, kinda but nope, nope. No potion anywhere will make her speak the truth. A time machine may suffice to see what the future holds.
I gave her the potion, and she said the same thing. It was a waste.
Prompt 16. What would you like to be paid to talk about?
With out a doubt snowboarding. Snowboarding, snowboarding and more snowboarding. Something I can do all day, talk about all day and even sometimes during the summer think about all day. I’ve only not snowboarding for 5 years of my life, every winter once I started I have not stopped. I’ve done every aspect of snowboarding. I’ve boarded the groom trails, not groomed trails, the middle of the woods, taught lessons for it, the parks, jumps, backyard and as of yesterday side of the road. Yeah, my friends and I found a hill off the side of the road and thought it would be an epic place to set up some jumps.
If someone asked me to talk about snowboarding for free I would be more than willing to talk to them about it for as long as they want. Only if they really enjoyed it as much as I do. But hell, if I was getting paid for it I don’t care who this person was as long as they were keeping the green flowing I could go all day. I’d just would just simply talk about during the winter my life revolves around snowboarding. (With a hint of snowmobiling thrown into the mix but they don’t need to know that) When I’m strapped into my snowboard nothing can bother me. As long as my two feet are buckled in, I’m the happiest guy in the world.
I dunno, derek, tell us what you'd REALLY like to be paid to talk about--we don't really sense a lot of enthusiasm here for snowboarding.
;)
Morgan, 15--I think your ending dribbles off here. Stronger to close with this IMO: "No potion anywhere will make her speak the truth."
This is very strong: " "I know I've fucked up, Morg, and I don't want to be this way. I want my kids back, I want my life back, I want you to be proud of me. I don't want to seem like a burden on the family, I don't want to have my illnesses and I don't want to go any deeper in this hole. I love my children and I want to see them grow up and not pass the days how I have." "
morgan, 13--a little poetic conceit: the talking hill. Works for me, or rather, all this does, especially the first graf:
What do you wonder about, I’d ask the hills. What do you wonder about, he’d ask me. Well, I don’t know—does Wuchowsen exist on this hill? Or is it just Katahdin he resides on? The hill would laugh at me. What I say? He’d tell me I can’t focus on anything.
Well, does he? I’d ask. Do you see a giant bird here!? He’d ask. Well, no, but I feel the wind. I feel the wind that feels like home. Maybe he’s blowing the wind for you to feel, he’d say.
Maybe, but that doesn’t answer my question: does he exist here? I’d ask.
You are crazy, the hill says to me. And you make me sound crazy. Wake up and look out your window.
I see snow, an icicle melting, and an envisioned hill that told me nothing, but let me ride the wind for a bit. I wish the hill didn’t talk.
The first three grafs of 13 read like set-up material you needed to build momentum but should have been dispensable when you found your groove in the later stuff.
rebecca--huh, just what you need--a mouthy computer all ready to beat you up when you're already tired.
rebecca, 16--so actually tell us a little about dogs (forget tennis, an afterthought.) Try a rewrite where you actually get into some detail about experience, knowledge, history with dogs.
morgan 14--
"You look for it, but won’t find it. If you don’t look for it, you run into it. "
The Zen approach to writing. I agree on the one hand, but on the other agree with Dr Johnson who said that a man might right at any time if he will just set himself to it doggedly. Kind of a contradiction, huh?
"Writing hurts, writing takes time, writing is blood in ink form that slides down the face and sometimes into one’s mouth where you taste it and are set back for a moment—then wipe it away and go on."
Nice, fancy writing! I agree with this almost completely though I will say that for me the pain of writing is fading.
ach, rj, it sounds as if you've been spending too much time on computer games: "Writing Warrior Mikrohard XP! Lord of the Keyboard Fights the Evil Dr Comma Splice and His Horde of Grammar Gremlins!"
Think of writing like love--sure, there are battles, but there're those times of sweet reconciliation too!
Frankly, rj, my wallet has an eating disorder! Right after payday it gorges so much my left buttcheek aches when I sit down. Then it goes and purges and pukes and refuses to put anything inside it at all and shows its anorexic side....
All it ever says is "There's nothing wrong with me, stop asking if I'm happy or if something's the matter, and stop pawing at me trying to find some secret stash that isn't there."
Chairs say all day, “wow that stinks, couldn’t you have farted somewhere else, MANNNN lose some weight, do you really have to drag me around, can’t you pick me up, THAT’S what happens when you lean on me, you broke you RIGHT in half you jerk!!!!”
How I would HATE to be a chair. I would have to deal with humans everyday that don’t give a damn about me and could care less if I were here or not. People don’t really think about what objects are around them until they are taken away, WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITHOUT A CHAIRRRR!!!! RESPECT IT!
15. You have a friend, lover, s.o., parent, whomever--and you have a magic potion. Once they take it they will tell you the absolute truth for one minute. Who do you give it to and what do they say?
Do I want to know the truth? Whenever I have a question, a personal question, how do I look? Are you cheating on me? Do you have a problem with me? What kind of person do you think I am? I always stop and ask myself before asking the question, do I even want to know the answer?
The truth is not always good. Yes it’s a good thing that the certain person you asked the question is being honest, but maybe you don’t want to know the answer. There are so many pros and cons about the truth, is the truth always a good thing to know?
16. Somebody just offered me the chance to get paid for gassing on about one of my favorite topics: dogs. What would you like to be paid to talk about?
Comedians. How the HELL do you make a living off talking shit about people, saying the STUPIDEST things, and making people laugh about nothing? I mean if you really listen to a comedians “set” you end up laughing at the dumbest thing! AND THEY GET paid!
These people (comedians) talk so much crap I think that if the crap they spoke was a physical object then it would flood this world. I can’t imagine making a living off being an ass.
Prompt 14
Writing is an act of pure creation. It is a prayer and a sacrament for me. When I'm in the thick of it, everything fades away except for the story I'm telling. It's addicting and divine and orgasmic. It's a drug composed of ink and dreams, paper and desire. It is my connection to the divine.
Prompt 16
I am not a religious sort of person but I am obsessed with the concept of religion. I think it's the idea of a secret order to the universe, a fundamental truth that has me hooked. I want to make sense of the crazy world we live in but I can never shallow that faith pill.
Prompt 15
I love my father. He did his best by me and while that was not always enough, I do not hold it against him. The problem lies with the fact that he holds it against himself. Every time I see him he goes on how he should have done better with me.
What I don't understand is that my life isn't bad enough to cause such a response. I'm going to college. I don't drink or do any drugs. Compared to many people I know, I'm doing pretty damn well.
So I take offense to his guilt. To me it seems like if he thought I was doing well then he wouldn't be lamenting his parenting so much. Of course, he denies this idea and claims that he is proud of me.
If I had some magical truth serum I would use it on him, if only to hear him admit what he really thinks about me. Until he does that, neither of us will be able to move on.
What object do I wish could talk?
I wish my phone could talk, in a literal sense, and not just convey what I say to another. My phone is with me at all times, I guess you could literally say we are "attached at the hip" because it is always in my pocket. I want to know what my phone thinks about me. Is my voice annoying? Do I have bad breath? Do I swear to much? All of these questions could be answered within a minute or two, but I would love to have a deep conversation with it as well. What is a phones religious view, or its sexual preference? If my phone could talk, it would know more about me then I know about me, because it hears and sees everything I do and say.
What is writing like for me?
Writing for me is like a fight. Both have information leading up to them. In a fight, it could be what you, or someone else did or said. In writing it is usually what I did during the day, good or bad. Then the way to get out the rage of what happens before a fight, the actually fight takes place. In writing I take out all of my frustrations gathered during the day. All of the "You know what shitty thing happend to me today?" moments can be put into words, here, or somewhere else, and that get it out into the open, and It almost always helps with what im feeling that particular day.
13.
Ever since I was little I've always wondered where the money I have in my hands has been. So, I wish that money could talk. Not really just any money, but they money that is just in my hands so I could be the only once who knows these things. Where was this bill before I had it? How many people have used this same bill as me? In what places has this bill been used? How long did these people have this for? These was always questions that I have thought about when I stare at money.
What would I like to be paid to talk about?
When I am not at school, or work, my life revolves around football. I watch it, play it, and most importantly, coach it. I enjoy coaching more then I ever imagined I would. I enjoy helping my players achieve their goals, by teaching them. I would not trade being a football coach for anything. However if I had to trade coaching football, I would have to trade it for writing, or talking about football.
15.
I gave the truth serum to my father. I recentenly reconnected with him a year ago after not having any contact with him since I was 13. I'm almost 20 now, so not having contact with him for about 7 years made let me think a lot. He says exactly what I've always wanted to hear "I'm so sorry for leaving you and your brother. It was such a quick decision to leave Maine and move to Florida that I didn't know how to tell you guys. My girlifriend and I didn't want you two to be sad and I especially didn't want your mother to be mad at me for abondoning you guys even more than I already had. I know I'm an aweful father for having nothing to do with you guys and not being a part of your life, I'm sorry."
I didn't have anything to say back. He said it all, and I still don't want much to do with him.
16.
If someone offered me the chance to talk about something it would be to talk about old memories. I would love to get paid to talk about that. I know it sounds like such a broad subject but theres nothing I love more than sitting around talking to my friends, old ones or ones I'm still close with, and say "Hey, remember that time..." or "To this day I still think about it when...". My brain is like a volt that keeps all sorts of random memories that I've encountered. I don't forget much and It's so fun to bring up old times, see people's reactions, and laugh about them. Thinking back about those times makes me think about how great life is.
Dogs have been a huge part of my life since I was a little girl. Growing up my family and I always had some kind of animal that we raised and cared for. I would so enjoy getting paid to talk about dogs. The first dog I ever had was a husky mix. She was black and very cute, but did not have the personality to match. She was a one-person dog her whole life and I unfortunately was not that person. We did not have a very close relationship being that I was only a child. But when I was on high school one day, my father brought home two black lab puppies. When I saw their cute little brown eyes staring back at me, I couldn't resist and immediately fell in love. They were two of the best dogs I have ever had. (a male and female from same litter) Then I took care of my sister's dogs who were also brother and sister. And currently, I have a Great Dane and a German Shepherd/lab mix. So, as you can see dogs have been a huge part in my life. Through taking care of them and dealing with a lot of different breeds over the years, I have gained a greater knowledge of their attributes, breed character traits, health issues, necessities, and development patterns. I even dog-set a couple chiwawas. So I have experienced the world of little dogs, big dogs, and most everything in between. It would be an awesome opportunity to be able to talk about these animals and educate others about these animals that I have had fun with, cried with, and learned to love.
kara, chair--nice, two views, one the chairs', the other the human founder of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Chairs (SPCC)--it's a twofer.
kara, 15--sounds more like you are arguing with the prompt than using it as a springboard. Try a rewrite on this one.
kara, 16--has the same feel as 15. Are you saying that you'd like to be paid for talking about comedians? It sounds more like you're saying that you have no idea what comedians get paid for,but that sort of ignores the prompt. Pick either this one or 15 for a rewrite.
chris, 14--so what does your prayer sound like, your orgasm feel like, your high do to your head? You're setting up a lot of categories that are ineffable and skipping away from the hard work of conveying much to the reader. I ask again, for a rewrite, what is writing like for you--not looking for metaphors or comparisons or similes, looking for something only you could ever conceivably put your name to.
chris, 16--your reader is a desert traveller, dying of thirst and you appear with an eyedropper of liquid. C'mon, try a rewrite, give the topic a ride--religion deserves a little more than a postage stamp response
chris, 15--that's a very unusual and interesting take on 15. People usually want to hear the secret bad stuff; you're hoping to hear secret good stuff or at least purge that guilt he seems to have
"What is a phones religious view, or its sexual preference?"
I think I can help here, ryan--no question in my mind that oral sex is going to be a big turn on for a phone. I mean, what else? I suppose there could also be time for 'Flip me open and press my buttons.'
As for religion, I offer you the Gospel of John. "In the beginning was the Word...." That has to be Holy Scripture for a phone, eh?
ryan, writing--I would not have guessed that about you and writing, ryan. I'd have guessed that you and writing are like a football player on the field and a food vendor in the stand--both in the stadium, both doing a job, both aware of each other theoretically but neither having all that much to do with the other (you being the player, of course, and writing being the food guy.)
I stand corrected!
I think a lot of people wonder about that, melissa--they say most of the bill circulating in Florida are full of cocaine residue! What does that tell you!
Try a rewrite. Give us a bill, tell us a little of its story.
ryan, football--try a rewrite. Tell us a little of what you'd like to tell us about football. Give us part of that football lecture.
melissa, 15--I hear that; a few words saying a lot and a bit of surprise finish. Nice!
melissa, 16--you're telling us you'd like to talk about memories, but not offering us any memories, any part of that speech about memories--try a rewrite of 16
rebecca, dogs--that gives the prompt a nice ride, laying out the topic, telling what you'd tell us, and then actually telling us a little of your own experiences
If my old table could talk what would it say?
My table... I have been eating off it since I was six. If it could talk what would it say?
"Jesus woman! Would you pick a place to live already? I'm sick of having my legs taken off!You give me a new ding every time you move me! And oh yeah! By the way! Could you PLEASE stop putting all your crap on me? I can barely stand with all of this shit! One last thing... Do NOT let your kids write on me! Have you looked under me lately? Seriously... enough already. I'm 12 years old and I feel 75. Give me a damn break."
Somebody just offered me the chance to get paid for gassing on about one of my favorite topics: Fish.
I find it rather disturbing to go into a pet store that sells fish and have to tell them about what they have. For example, I went to look at the fish and saw some Kribensis. I told the shop keeper I wanted a male and a female. He gave me two males. I corrected him and he proceded to tell me he had in fact given me two females. I then had to tell him that the males have more pink on the underside and longer fins. The females are a little more plump and the pink is more in the belly area. Same thing happened with the Gouramis. I asked for a male and female Blue Gourami and got two females and one was a gold not a blue. Sad. My Banjo catfish and my Khuli loaches are my babies. I hardly ever see them since they are always buried in the sand or hiding in something. You have to sit in the dark and wait for them to come out. That makes it all the more exciting. The Banjo catfish can get up to eight inches long. My largest one (I have 4) is only about four inches. My Khuli loaches. Well that is a sad story. I have been told several times that it is impossible to get them to breed in captivity. HA HA! It is not. I told the man at the store I though one was a female and I wanted her. He told me it was just a different type and there was no way I could tell if it was a female. Well I was right. After about a year and a half she got real big and fat. I could see the eggs in her belly. They mated (which they do at night) and I was unable to save the eggs before they got eaten. I managed to get a couple. Then I got a 100 gallon tank. Unfortunately the male died shortly after being moved. The female has been full of eggs every time I have seen her since, but she has no mate. I do have a few more Khuli loaches in there, but they are too young. Then we have our black angel fish. We had three but I had to find a home for the biggest one. You are only supposed to have one mated pair of angel fish per tank. They beat the crap out of the big guy. Too bad. I liked him. Also, angel fish will grow very fast if you feed them enough. The trick is that you only give them as much food as they will eat in 14 seconds. Do that five or six times a day and they grow real fast. The two in my tank were smaller than a quarter when I bought them. That was about 7 months ago. Now they are about as big as my fist. (I do not have petite little hands wither.)
They are not fish, but my son has fiddler crabs. It is pretty much impossible to successfully breed them in captivity since the larvae need deep ocean conditions. We did manage to get a female carrying eggs. When she finally dropped them the larvae only lived about a day. Too bad. They are creepy but interesting little critters.
John...I didn't see a post from you on my first prompt. It was posted on the 10th. Did I miss your reply?
13. re-write
I wish money talk. As I'm holding a dollar bill in my hands, many thoughts run through my head. The bill that I'm holding is a one dollar bill. It's folded, but folded in many different ways. It also looks like it has been crumpled. Who crumpled this bill? It also has a red line drawn near the edge, I'd like to know who did that and why. I wonder whos hands this dollar bill has been in. And how many hands has it been in. This bill looks old and worn but it's only 3 years old. I bet it has been used a lot. I wish this bill could talk and answer all my questions. If only money could talk...
tara, looks like I overlooked several responses, sorry about that....
Dreaming is invariably unpleasant for me, tara, but writing tickles the pleasure centers of my brain, so we come at the comparison of writing to something else in different ways completely.
carol, some of your stuff got lost in the shuffle and I apologize to you too
carol, 14--I sympathize with your fears about teacher approval, and how much worse the anxiety must be when your lamebrain teacher somehow skips a whole batch of stuff!
If I may say so, the writer in the end is not a student, but is free and independent of teachers. You certainly write clearly and flexibly enough to keep that vision in mind as a goal.
arol, 16: "I could talk about all the types of food he ates, the funny, sarcastic, witty comments he makes, the things he likes to do, the things he doesn't like to do, and his quirky little habits he does without noticing."
Carol, you miss a bet here. You set up a wonderful piece with the quotation above, but don't follow through with a quotation, a bit of wit, a habit, a quirk--try a rewrite and give the man his due!
carol, 13--nice, funny, oddball response (oddball is a compliment)--here's one where you don't stint on examples and it works very well
darci--you too were skipped over--what the heck happened to me that day????
writing like a tug of war, eh? Are you tugging against yourself, against an idea, or...against the teacher?
tara, table--funny is hard, but this tough-talking table made me smile, and that's a compliment because it happens very rarely
Mercy, tara, we have two goldfish, period, forever, I hope, but in your rush of enthuiasm here, your obvious knowledge and love of the topic, your expertise, I could almost imagine paying you to continue gassing on for a while! (But don't give up the day job yet.) I mean, this is a topic I really don't care about, but I very much liked your presentation and information here!
I don't want to beat this puppy to death, melissa, but I can't help thinking that for week 4 the idea would have been to speculate: to follow the bill through the hands of a housewife to a supermarket cashier to a bank teller to bank robber to a drug dealer to a Salvation Army kettle to a homeless person to etc.
HAVE I GOT EVERYONE UP TO THIS POINT???? I THINK I HAVE BUT OBVIOUSLY AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF OVERSIGHTS, MISTAKES, GOOFS, SCREWUPS, SENIOR MOMENTS, BRAIN CRAMPS, AND A BAD CASE OF THE DUHS.
Let me know if I missed you!
13. I just googled the phrase 'if these could talk.' Wow, if these walls could talk, sure, but also if these hips could talk, if these cars could talk, if these pots could talk, if these dolls could talk, if these old keys could talk, if these stones could talk, if your boss could talk, if these trees could talk, if these quasars could talk--well, there are 7 or 8 million more entries to hunt through.... You've just spent a week writing about stuff in a journal, thinking about the walled-in room where you're working. What inanimate thing do you wish could talk?
Dear Reader,
I’ve seen it all and been through it all. I’m 23 years old and it's obvious when you look at me I’ve been through some rough times. I was there in 1988 when my mommy’s babysitter decided I couldn’t see well enough and trimmed all my fur down to about nothing. A couple years later my mommy cut my teeth off cause they were hanging on by a thread, and she wanted to save them to stitch back on later…but then she lost them in a freak accident where her suitcase fell off the car and no one noticed. Since then I have been toothless. Over the years my threads have pulled and frayed and I’ve watched mommy cry and cling to me, wearing me out even further. Sometimes when she was really mad she’d throw me, but only because there was nothing else around her to throw. She’d always cry and come and pick me up and hold me again. After all these years now my tail hangs on by a thread and the fur is worn off my back from all the love. I know she still loves me because she still sleeps with me every night and if she knows she’s going away for a day she always packs me and brings me with her. She never goes to sleep unless I'm there with her, and every night she gathers me in her arms and I listen to her breathing get steadier. I’ve been there through all the nightmares, all the struggles, and every day I know she’s coming home to me and would never let anything happen to me. I’m grateful for my mommy, she’s my best friend now and she always will be.
Yours Truly,
Monday the Beaver
5. You have a friend, lover, s.o., parent, whomever--and you have a magic potion. Once they take it they will tell you the absolute truth for one minute. Who do you give it to and what do they say?
Something has been absolutely nagging at me for the past few weeks. I was seeing someone sort of, and spent the night at their house. During the night I was online with one of my friends who was going through a bit of a crisis, and I fell asleep with the computer open. The next morning I get a phone call from my boss saying my friend was freaking and needing to go to the hospital, and I looked at my computer and it was closed. I don’t remember closing it myself, so I asked the guy I was with what had happened. He said he couldn’t sleep and had gotten up and seen that I was asleep and closed it for me. So I didn’t think much of it until I talked to my friend later on that day. She said that she had been writing to me and trying to get the person I was with to wake me up, because she was in crisis and needed someone to talk to. She said my status kept going “away” and “available” and it was obvious someone was at my computer and using it, but not doing anything to wake me up. So I freaked out and broke it off with the guy I was seeing, because I trust my friend very much to tell me the truth. However this nagging suspicion came to mind, because I know this guy was with was blind as a bat without his contacts in, and wondering if he even saw those messages at all…I just don’t know. So if I had a truth potion, I wouldn’t even ask if he was there because I know he was; my friend said so. But I would want to know if he had his contacts in or not that night, and what really happened on his end, and what in the world I ever did to deserve being betrayed like that. And what would he say? I honestly have no idea. I'm dying to know, and I have no way of knowing. So if anyone discovers that magical potion – let me know. I'm in the market for one. I know I could go over and give him the ol’ sodium thiopental but god knows how that would react with all the medications he’s taking for his kidney transplant…oh well. I made my choice and I trust my friend and no one comes between me and my friends. ‘Ho’s before Bro’s lol.
14. Wishing? Lying? Dreaming? Dancing? Boxing? Cooking? What is writing like for you?
Writing for me is like a science-fictiony form of a lie detector test that reaches inside of me and pulls the truth from my heart in a slow, painful, torturous manner. It's like the very essence of who I am is stretched and yanked from inside of me, much like pulling sinews or tendons but never having them snap. I have to be in a certain frame of mind to write at all, and with all the added stresses in my life right now the last thing I need on top of it all is to feel like my organs are being pulled out of me and feeling the little tears of the threads that connect them to me. All of my feelings tend to come out in my writing, and when I isolate myself and want to keep my inner, most sensitive areas protected, I find that the writing leaves me vulnerable for others to know what I'm feeling, and I hate it. I'm a very private, personal person and writing is like a window into my soul, and I don’t like that. Sometimes I can write typical, non-expressive stuff but I find I'm unsatisfied with it and that’s something I try to avoid as a writer. Overall, I find that writing is torture lately because I'm forced to sit here and face my insides and look at everything but in the end I have to do it, I can't just drop out of school – although I really wish I could for the semester. But I have loans out and I can't start paying them back now, so it has to be done. In short, writing is a mini-torture session that has to be endured for my survival but in the end, the college money is all worth it.
13. What inanimate thing do you wish could talk?
The inanimate object I think would be most interesting to talk with is currency. From the minting of a crisp new bill and shiny new coin.
I would love to hear its stories on all the countries, states, cities, banks and stores its been to. Listening to all its stories on all of the people its met, wallets and pockets its been in would be amazing.
Hearing how it turned from a bill or coin to a wrinkled and torn piece of paper or a dull, tarnished coin. I think if money could talk that its life story would remind us of our own life stories.
darci--try a rewrite on 13 that actually speculates on some of those stories you mention. Fiction is not a big part of 162 and this is one of your few chances. Follow one of those bills through its life story.
erin, 14, well, as long as you are enjoying the work, having fun, and learning!
;) or rather:
:(
So, if writing is torture, then that casts me as Head Torturer! Or does it cast you as your own Head Torturer?
Clear narrative in 5, erin, though I'd be grateful for paragraphing. You give the material a ride, laying out the external issues and the personal and internal ones in a very economical way.
For my taste, I'd keep the piece consistent in tone--and wouldn't drop at the end into 'ho's before bro's lol''; that is too loose for the rest of the piece you construct here and undercuts its essential seriousness.
Hey Monday, tell Erin she did a nice job giving you voice and recounting all your trials and tribulations over the years. But you sound like a mess, destined for the ragbag, if you don't mind my saying so, but whatever it takes to keep your boss on track, eh?
RE-WRITE
16. Somebody just offered me the chance to get paid for
gassing on about one of my favorite topics: dogs. What
would you like to be paid to talk about?
I'd like to be paid to talk about my husband, David.
I don't have any kids, so David is the person I spend
ALL of my time with, he's my best friend. I could talk about
all the types of food he ates, the funny, sarcastic, witty
comments he makes, the things he likes to do, the things he doesn't
like to do, and his quirky little habits he does without noticing.
Our daily routine consists of us waking up at 4:00am, when I am in no
mood for his witty comments, but he does so anyway. This morning it came after I
had asked him to either get up or turn off his alarm that had been going off
for about 15 mintues, every 3 minutes, and he replied with, "Pretty annoying, huh?!"
I wanted to scream, "AAAHHH YEAH, DAVID! IT'S FOUR AM!" But I heard that the first conversation
of someones day usually sets the tone, so I let his comment slide, along with the alarm going
off two more times. Later that night we meet up again, as soon as he walks through the door
he throws his jacket on the floor and leaves his boots in the middle of the floor. Apparently, the
shoe rack and coat rack aren't convienent for him today. He makes his way to the dinner table where I made
lasagna, my mistake, considering he doesn't like cheese of any kind, or onions, so he basically just ate the noodles.
Finally, he moves onto something he likes, the Wii. While I clean up dinner and do dishes I can hear
him yelling at the game since it's not going his way. Boys...
Carol: exactly--you tell us what you'd tell us if you were being paid to tell us! Nice thumbnail portrait of the man, of you, of the day, and of the relationship.
What would you like to be paid to talk about?
I would want to get paid for talking about being a mother and wife. Both of these come with a handbook and is sometime difficult to be, the more that I am away from home for classes or student teaching the more difficult is it.
Even though I have to be away from home for school, I still make time for my family. My kids are my number one priority and will always come first. My son’s homework comes before mine. Helping my middle child read books, or playing dolls with the youngest. These are all so important that no matter what I have on my plate they will always come first.
Being in school full time and student teaching full time takes away from spending time with my husband, but then again we try our hardest to be able to spend time together. Between his job which is shift work and my schooling it is difficult, but we find time for each other.
Being both a mother and a wife is the most amazing thing in my entire life. I would not change any of the difficult or easiest moments for anything
What inanimate thing do you wish could talk? Rewrite:
The inanimate object I think would be most interesting to talk with is currency. From the minting of a crisp new bill and shiny new coin, hearing the stories of how it was made from the very fibers of the bill what it takes to make that material into a dollar bill would be so interesting. The miners mining the gold, silver and copper, the process of what it took for the miners to get to this material and the process of melting the metals and putting them in forms to create coins.
Once the currency is made the process of being distributed to the banks all across the country, the way it carried through armored trucks to be protected. The millions of hands that touch this money once its begun being circulated. To hear about the dealing that is made with this currency whether it is though a store, a slot machine, or to buy drugs. To hear the feelings that the currency has towards these dealing, does it feel good for being swapped for drugs, or happy to have bought the owner groceries?
Hearing how the currency has become wrinkled and torn or a dull tarnished coin. I think would open the eyes of everyone that touches this money.
You have it, darci! Money talks!
"My son’s homework comes before mine."
:(
Oh, nooooo, darci!
rj, 16--so you're already giving it away--understandable you'd like to be paid....
If you are a spending money on give time to put you off.
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