Sunday July 17th, 2022

The exercise:

Write about: time.

Back in Comox after a lengthy return trip up Island. Having to wait almost an hour for lunch did not help matters, but at least the meal was enjoyed by all once it arrived.

Returning to (remote) work tomorrow. Not sure I'm ready for it.

Thursday July 1st, 2021

The exercise:

Write about being: lost in time.

Thursday holidays are so weird. I felt like I had no idea what day it was for most of the day.

But don't get me wrong - I'm still pretty happy to get the day as a break before deadline day for property taxes.

Sunday January 31st, 2021

The exercise:

The end of our last weekend in Osoyoos. The end of the first month of the year. Tomorrow Kat will bring the boys to get the keys and move a van-ful of stuff into our new home - mostly kitchen boxes we pulled out of storage yesterday.

A day that seemed so far away in mid-November is now fast approaching.

Write about: don't blink or you'll miss it.

Sunday January 3rd, 2021

The exercise:

Back to work tomorrow. Not especially looking forward to it, as the time off seems to have vanished while I was looking the other way.

Write about: in search of lost time.

Literary inspiration optional.

Wednesday December 8th, 2010

The exercise:

At g2's request (insistence?), in honor of Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day the prompt shall simply be: the time traveler.

Now also seems like a good time to re-recommend The Time Traveler's Wife.

Tonight we finished off the kitchen counter and finally got the trim around the bathroom window. So now we have painting and flooring left, for the big jobs.

*excited*

Mine:

The man stood at the corner of 5th Avenue and Davis Street, his gaze alternating between the sky and the rather large silver watch on his left wrist. The crowds parted around him, many of them giving his mismatched shoes or too-small leather jacket a second or third glance. The rest simply ignored him, too caught up in their own important business to notice or care.

With an aggravated sigh the man spun on his heel and stormed toward the newsstand half a block away. The vendor eyed him warily as he snatched one of the locals from the middle shelf and shook his head.

"Not the good news you were hoping for?" the vendor asked.

"This doesn't make any sense," the man muttered, again checking his watch. "They were supposed to come for me at exactly ten minutes past eleven in the morning on August 12th. And it's already twelve minutes past the hour!"

"Well, I may have no idea what the heck you're talking about," the vendor said with an uneasy laugh, "but I do know that today is August 21st."

The man's face went pale and the paper slipped from his suddenly numb fingers, fluttering to the pavement like an ink-stained butterfly. He couldn't believe it. His dyslexia had yet again cost him another year in the past.

Monday October 19th, 2009

The exercise:

Let's get the week started with: lost in time. I suspect you'll be able to sort out the inspiration for this one on your own.

Also: my deepest, most sincere congratulations to Greg on the occasion of his winning the Protagonize Autumn Poetry Tournament :)

Mine:

My wrist is light,
No longer heavy with time;
My thoughts take flight,
No hands pulling down my mind.

I'm free to roam,
To dream, to wonder, to play;
My watch at home...
Yet they still say I'm late.

Monday October 27th, 2008

The exercise:

Today's starter is: the gift of time.

Mine:

In our home whoever makes the meal doesn't do any dishes. On the vast majority of nights Kat makes (delicious) dinners so I do the clean up. I'm not a particularly fast washer; I'd say dishes take up about an hour (often more) of my time each day.

For my birthday several friends (including Kat) got together to buy me a dishwasher. I was so thrilled; why, you may ask? Because I look at it a bit differently than you.

You may see a counter top dishwasher. I see time.

I see seven hours a week, twenty eight hours a month, three hundred and thirty six hours a year. That's two weeks per year of my time that has instantly been freed up. How often are you able to give someone more time? What a great, great gift - thanks again everyone!

I'm going to get a whole lot more writing done.

Thursday October 23rd, 2008

The exercise:

I wanted to write a poem while relaxing my more rigid, self-imposed rules of poetry. Feel free to do the same with today's starter: the hour is getting late.

Mine:

The hour is getting late
The clock fills me with hate
There are not enough hours in the day
For me to write all the things I have to say

I need to get some sleep
I have promises to keep
So I turn off the light
And wish you all a fond good night

Thursday October 16th, 2008

The exercise:

I'll have a post scheduled to go up tomorrow evening since I won't be around for most of the day. That's because my super awesome girlfriend has rounded up some of my super awesome friends and family and they're all chipping in to send me to this workshop as a (slightly early) birthday present. I'm super awesomely excited about it. I'll let you know how it goes.

As for today? The starter du jour is: finding time to write.

Mine:

Finding time to write can be an incredible challenge to overcome. You think about sitting down to scribble thoughts on paper and your mind goes numb. That little voice starts telling you nobody wants to read what you have to say and your ideas are dumb.

My biggest obstacle is a beast called Procrastination; maybe you've heard of him and his friend I've Got Better Things To Do? But I've managed to write every day for the last 130 days, so there's no reason you can't too.

There's no question, I have sacrificed other things I enjoy doing in order to write. I've gone to bed later than I would have liked on many a night. Admittedly, I didn't have much choice in the matter - I could never sleep with all those ideas running around my head like mice.

The thing to remember is this: writing is its own reward. I don't write hoping to be adored. I know there's a good chance my words will be ignored. I write because not writing isn't something I can afford.