The exercise:
Merry Christmas to all of you fine writers! I hope Santa was kind and generous with you and yours.
Christmas Week, the 2012 version, comes to an end here at the blog with a request for two haiku about the: Unlikely Angel.
I know, I know - I could have easily found a much darker title to finish things off. But it just didn't seem right on the big day itself. So here we are.
Max was spoiled with abandon today, as was his cousin Natalie. The rest of us did pretty well for ourselves too, but I think it was really about the kids this time around.
Mine:
He offers guidance
to men who have gone astray,
like: That one's a cop.
* * *
An angel in name
only; the Dominions still
hunt for her halo.
Showing posts with label Christmas Week 2012. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas Week 2012. Show all posts
Monday December 24th, 2012
The exercise:
I hope you all had a safe and happy Christmas Eve, preferably with people you're fond of nearby. Our countdown to the big day hits its penultimate note with: The Nightmare Before Christmas.
If you didn't see that one coming then you probably weren't paying much attention.
I'm really looking forward to tomorrow, more for it being Max's first Christmas than for anything I'm expecting to receive myself. Glad to have a lot of family here to share it with, though I wish my sisters could be here too.
I will admit, however, that if they'd been able to make it as well, I'm not sure I could've handled that level of chaos. What we've got here right now is plenty, thank you.
Mine:
The Christmas tree is on fire but no one else seems to notice. Why isn't everyone freaking out, forming a bucket line, calling the fire department, or something? This is a hurricane level holiday disaster here!
Oh, maybe it's because all the presents were already stolen. I suppose that makes the fire a bit less of a concern. Has someone at least phoned the police about the robbery?
No? Too preoccupied with the turkey turning charcoal black in the oven? And I guess making sure the gravy tastes like mushy cardboard takes a lot of focus as well.
What's that? All the wine bottles are empty? Sounds about par for the course at this point.
Surely this is a nightmare. All of this cannot be going wrong all at once. I'll wake up any second now.
Any second. Come on. Here we go. Any... second...
I hope you all had a safe and happy Christmas Eve, preferably with people you're fond of nearby. Our countdown to the big day hits its penultimate note with: The Nightmare Before Christmas.
If you didn't see that one coming then you probably weren't paying much attention.
I'm really looking forward to tomorrow, more for it being Max's first Christmas than for anything I'm expecting to receive myself. Glad to have a lot of family here to share it with, though I wish my sisters could be here too.
I will admit, however, that if they'd been able to make it as well, I'm not sure I could've handled that level of chaos. What we've got here right now is plenty, thank you.
Mine:
The Christmas tree is on fire but no one else seems to notice. Why isn't everyone freaking out, forming a bucket line, calling the fire department, or something? This is a hurricane level holiday disaster here!
Oh, maybe it's because all the presents were already stolen. I suppose that makes the fire a bit less of a concern. Has someone at least phoned the police about the robbery?
No? Too preoccupied with the turkey turning charcoal black in the oven? And I guess making sure the gravy tastes like mushy cardboard takes a lot of focus as well.
What's that? All the wine bottles are empty? Sounds about par for the course at this point.
Surely this is a nightmare. All of this cannot be going wrong all at once. I'll wake up any second now.
Any second. Come on. Here we go. Any... second...
Sunday December 23rd, 2012
The exercise:
With just two days to go, we write words inspired by the movie title: Black Christmas.
Yeah, I wouldn't bother clicking that link if I were you. Just... stick with the title and start writing.
Today was a day for arriving family. Kat's dad brought her brother and his family home from the airport just in time for a late lunch, and then my parents pulled into the driveway shortly after dinner (but still in time for dessert).
Now the gang's all here and the oohing and aahing over babies has commenced!
Mine:
We hated spending Christmas holidays with Aunt Penelope. There could not have been a festive bone in her frail little body!
No lights decorated the outside of her home, no carols ever managed to successfully escape from her stereo. Talk of Santa was strictly forbidden, as were stockings, candy canes, and speculation on the ability of reindeer to fly.
There was no holly, no jolly, no nothin'.
The blackened, shriveled up thing she insisted on calling her Christmas tree looked like it had been pulled out of a forest fire. About two weeks after the blaze had run its course.
Not only was I convinced that this was an accurate assessment, I was also pretty darned sure that Aunt Penelope had started the fire herself.
With just two days to go, we write words inspired by the movie title: Black Christmas.
Yeah, I wouldn't bother clicking that link if I were you. Just... stick with the title and start writing.
Today was a day for arriving family. Kat's dad brought her brother and his family home from the airport just in time for a late lunch, and then my parents pulled into the driveway shortly after dinner (but still in time for dessert).
Now the gang's all here and the oohing and aahing over babies has commenced!
Mine:
We hated spending Christmas holidays with Aunt Penelope. There could not have been a festive bone in her frail little body!
No lights decorated the outside of her home, no carols ever managed to successfully escape from her stereo. Talk of Santa was strictly forbidden, as were stockings, candy canes, and speculation on the ability of reindeer to fly.
There was no holly, no jolly, no nothin'.
The blackened, shriveled up thing she insisted on calling her Christmas tree looked like it had been pulled out of a forest fire. About two weeks after the blaze had run its course.
Not only was I convinced that this was an accurate assessment, I was also pretty darned sure that Aunt Penelope had started the fire herself.
Saturday December 22nd, 2012
The exercise:
Christmas is only three days away! Quick, write a four line poem about: Rare Exports.
I discovered this one while searching for dark Christmas movies. From the reviews and descriptions I've read, it definitely fits the bill!
Today ended on a rather disappointing note, as Kat's brother and his family did not arrive as scheduled. Their flight from up north to Vancouver went fine, but then the flight from there to Penticton wasn't able to land due to fog. So they're spending the night in Vancouver and hopefully arriving in the early afternoon tomorrow.
At which point Max will get to meet his aunt, uncle, and 15-month old cousin for the first time.
We're particularly looking forward to that.
Mine:
He's running a North Pole trade,
But he's doing it in secret;
We all know who to talk to
When we need an elven pet.
Christmas is only three days away! Quick, write a four line poem about: Rare Exports.
I discovered this one while searching for dark Christmas movies. From the reviews and descriptions I've read, it definitely fits the bill!
Today ended on a rather disappointing note, as Kat's brother and his family did not arrive as scheduled. Their flight from up north to Vancouver went fine, but then the flight from there to Penticton wasn't able to land due to fog. So they're spending the night in Vancouver and hopefully arriving in the early afternoon tomorrow.
At which point Max will get to meet his aunt, uncle, and 15-month old cousin for the first time.
We're particularly looking forward to that.
Mine:
He's running a North Pole trade,
But he's doing it in secret;
We all know who to talk to
When we need an elven pet.
Friday December 21st, 2012
The exercise:
We continue to mark the steady approach of Christmas with: Scrooged.
I'll admit mine is only tenuously tied to the prompt, but I figure it comes close enough to describing my mood while writing it that it works. Not that there'd be any stopping me, I'm just saying.
We went up to Kat's parents place for dinner tonight and the TV was set to nothing but news coverage, so I ended up feeling rather grumpy.
This could have gotten a lot longer - and remarkably more colourful - but I think the four line limit did us all a favour this week.
Mine:
Those of you who have been following along with this little blog over the years have by now noticed that I tend to keep my writing pretty PG. This is entirely intentional, as I want to keep the prompts and blog as accessible as possible.
But there are times when swearing simply cannot and should not be avoided, and this to my mind is absolutely one of them.
So, in light of this morning's news conference, I would just like to say: the NRA can go fuck themselves.
We continue to mark the steady approach of Christmas with: Scrooged.
I'll admit mine is only tenuously tied to the prompt, but I figure it comes close enough to describing my mood while writing it that it works. Not that there'd be any stopping me, I'm just saying.
We went up to Kat's parents place for dinner tonight and the TV was set to nothing but news coverage, so I ended up feeling rather grumpy.
This could have gotten a lot longer - and remarkably more colourful - but I think the four line limit did us all a favour this week.
Mine:
Those of you who have been following along with this little blog over the years have by now noticed that I tend to keep my writing pretty PG. This is entirely intentional, as I want to keep the prompts and blog as accessible as possible.
But there are times when swearing simply cannot and should not be avoided, and this to my mind is absolutely one of them.
So, in light of this morning's news conference, I would just like to say: the NRA can go fuck themselves.
Thursday December 20th, 2012
The exercise:
Took Max for his final midwife appointment this afternoon. Little monster is nearly ten and a half pounds now!
The countdown to presents and what not continues with: Gremlins.
Yeah, I guess we've got a theme now. Well, a theme within a theme: a week's worth of Christmas movie title prompts, all of which feature some sort of connection to the darker side of the holidays. Because, you know, 'tis the season and all that.
It's a mega theme week!
Either way, it continues... now.
Mine:
Our target was a mysterious factory, deep in enemy territory, whose towering chimneys belched black smoke into an otherwise unoccupied valley. A scout team had been watching the operations for several weeks by that time and security appeared to be understaffed and undertrained.
Whether that was because there was nothing worth guarding or because it was a clever coverup of something integral to their war efforts was unknown. In recent days, however, suspicion had been increasing exponentially. Some of the leading minds back at HQ were convinced this was what we'd been searching so desperately for.
So they sent us in to make sure they were right.
We were a small team, built for stealth and speed. Years spent together in the heat of battle had melted us down into what seemed like a single cohesive mass. One brain ruled our bodies, one heart pumped blood through our veins.
If that factory truly was the source of the gremlins that had been invading the engines of our flyboy's machines, then we were the men to put a stop to it.
Took Max for his final midwife appointment this afternoon. Little monster is nearly ten and a half pounds now!
The countdown to presents and what not continues with: Gremlins.
Yeah, I guess we've got a theme now. Well, a theme within a theme: a week's worth of Christmas movie title prompts, all of which feature some sort of connection to the darker side of the holidays. Because, you know, 'tis the season and all that.
It's a mega theme week!
Either way, it continues... now.
Mine:
Our target was a mysterious factory, deep in enemy territory, whose towering chimneys belched black smoke into an otherwise unoccupied valley. A scout team had been watching the operations for several weeks by that time and security appeared to be understaffed and undertrained.
Whether that was because there was nothing worth guarding or because it was a clever coverup of something integral to their war efforts was unknown. In recent days, however, suspicion had been increasing exponentially. Some of the leading minds back at HQ were convinced this was what we'd been searching so desperately for.
So they sent us in to make sure they were right.
We were a small team, built for stealth and speed. Years spent together in the heat of battle had melted us down into what seemed like a single cohesive mass. One brain ruled our bodies, one heart pumped blood through our veins.
If that factory truly was the source of the gremlins that had been invading the engines of our flyboy's machines, then we were the men to put a stop to it.
Wednesday December 19th, 2012
The exercise:
This year's countdown to Christmas continues with: Bad Santa.
Is there a theme developing here? Not intentionally. We'll see what happens tomorrow, I guess.
Mine:
There are no songs or bedtime stories revolving around his exploits. No movie franchises, no television specials, no clever merchandise tie-ins. He does not receive sacks and sacks of letters filled with misspelled entreaties for toys and candies and other such drivel.
No, the handful of letters he receives are precisely worded, not an i left undotted, no t left looking for its cross. They are magnificently descriptive, each transgression outlined in often excessive detail. The keenest of the lot even include photographic evidence.
Often to his great dismay.
But his services are in demand enough to keep him interested in the job. And the pay, though inconsistent from target to target, is always impossible to turn down. Underneath it all there might even be a little job satisfaction involved.
So on those occasions when a mere lump of coal is not message enough, Bad Santa rides across the night sky once more.
This year's countdown to Christmas continues with: Bad Santa.
Is there a theme developing here? Not intentionally. We'll see what happens tomorrow, I guess.
Mine:
There are no songs or bedtime stories revolving around his exploits. No movie franchises, no television specials, no clever merchandise tie-ins. He does not receive sacks and sacks of letters filled with misspelled entreaties for toys and candies and other such drivel.
No, the handful of letters he receives are precisely worded, not an i left undotted, no t left looking for its cross. They are magnificently descriptive, each transgression outlined in often excessive detail. The keenest of the lot even include photographic evidence.
Often to his great dismay.
But his services are in demand enough to keep him interested in the job. And the pay, though inconsistent from target to target, is always impossible to turn down. Underneath it all there might even be a little job satisfaction involved.
So on those occasions when a mere lump of coal is not message enough, Bad Santa rides across the night sky once more.
Tuesday Decemember 18th, 2012
The exercise:
All right, we're somehow a week away from Christmas day. I know. Don't ask me, I have no idea how we've managed to arrive here.
Anyway. I like to use the blog to do a little countdown to the big day and I've finally decided how I'm going to do that this year. This time around we're getting a week's worth of Christmas movie titles as our prompts. Your writing doesn't have to do anything with the movies themselves, just their titles.
You can weave all your responses over the next seven days together into one tale, or just let each one stand on its own. I think I'm going the latter route, as this is a busy enough time of year as it is.
Also: I had been considering doing something else, but it's feeling like a bad time of year to go that other route. Definitely at another time though.
So let us begin the countdown to Santa's arrival by writing two haiku about: How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Or, if you're desiring something a little more straightforward, simply about: the Grinch.
Mine:
He schedules late nights,
weekends too. If he can't go
home, neither can you.
* * *
Presents, ornaments,
he'll steal them all. No store's safe
when he's at the mall.
All right, we're somehow a week away from Christmas day. I know. Don't ask me, I have no idea how we've managed to arrive here.
Anyway. I like to use the blog to do a little countdown to the big day and I've finally decided how I'm going to do that this year. This time around we're getting a week's worth of Christmas movie titles as our prompts. Your writing doesn't have to do anything with the movies themselves, just their titles.
You can weave all your responses over the next seven days together into one tale, or just let each one stand on its own. I think I'm going the latter route, as this is a busy enough time of year as it is.
Also: I had been considering doing something else, but it's feeling like a bad time of year to go that other route. Definitely at another time though.
So let us begin the countdown to Santa's arrival by writing two haiku about: How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Or, if you're desiring something a little more straightforward, simply about: the Grinch.
Mine:
He schedules late nights,
weekends too. If he can't go
home, neither can you.
* * *
Presents, ornaments,
he'll steal them all. No store's safe
when he's at the mall.
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