The exercise:
With the end of the year at hand, today's starter is simply: 2008.
Mine:
We’re about to enter the final year of the first decade of this millennium. Do you remember all the nonsense going on at the end of 1999, with all the y2k concerns bouncing around? Yeah, that was 9 years ago.
2008 has been a year of big birthdays. I, along with the vast majority of my friends, turned 30; throw in two 60ths, a 70th and an 80th within my family’s and Kat’s and you’ve got a pretty significant year.
I’ve done a lot of writing this year and I feel like I’ve made some big improvements. I don’t know about practice making perfect, but it sure makes a difference. I’m finally starting work on a novel, the first draft of which will be going online starting this Friday over at Protagonize - I’ll be sure to post a note here when it begins. I know it’s going to need a lot of rewriting but I’m looking forward to finally reaching that stage in the process.
We’re celebrating the end of the year tonight by having some friends over for drinks, games and general good cheer. I’m looking forward to it.
And I’m looking forward to 2009 and all it holds in store.
Happy New Year’s to you and yours; be safe and be joyful.
Tuesday December 30th, 2008
The exercise:
I failed to mention it last week, but my second story over at my Creative Outlet has come to a conclusion. I'm quite happy with the way it turned out and I would appreciate you checking it out if you haven't already done so.
So as a delayed celebration, the starter for today is: spare change.
Mine:
Do you have a quarter to spare?
You could change my life, if you dare…
Nope, I need to make a phone call
And then pay for my parking stall.
Then perhaps I could have a dime?
I don’t think I have much more time…
Sorry, ten cents is far too much;
I just don’t have the Midas touch!
A nickel then, is all I ask;
Surely that’s not too great a task…
Again, I must tell you plainly:
That amount is just ungainly!
A penny then, I shan’t ask more;
I hear Death knocking at my door…
Hey, money doesn’t grow on trees;
Earn it yourself - get off your knees!
I failed to mention it last week, but my second story over at my Creative Outlet has come to a conclusion. I'm quite happy with the way it turned out and I would appreciate you checking it out if you haven't already done so.
So as a delayed celebration, the starter for today is: spare change.
Mine:
Do you have a quarter to spare?
You could change my life, if you dare…
Nope, I need to make a phone call
And then pay for my parking stall.
Then perhaps I could have a dime?
I don’t think I have much more time…
Sorry, ten cents is far too much;
I just don’t have the Midas touch!
A nickel then, is all I ask;
Surely that’s not too great a task…
Again, I must tell you plainly:
That amount is just ungainly!
A penny then, I shan’t ask more;
I hear Death knocking at my door…
Hey, money doesn’t grow on trees;
Earn it yourself - get off your knees!
Monday December 29th, 2008
The exercise:
The prompt for today is: wind storm.
Mine:
The trees are dancing in the sun’s fading light while the gingerbread houses of my neighbourhood watch silently, their eyes painted with white and blue Christmas lights. The wind whistles through my window as I observe the maple tree’s swaying limbs and the pine tree’s fleeing needles.
The street light is rocking gently back and forth, unable to resist joining the ballet. A solitary bird struggles by on feeble wings, too stubborn to turn and allow the gusts to take it where they please. The SUV across the street rumbles to life, unafraid of the slush and snow covering the road like dunes of sand on a far away beach.
Will I find the courage to join this perfect parade? Or shall I hide inside, awaiting calmer conditions?
But what is the use in waiting? There will never be another now, so join me as I go out to embrace this moment of wonder and beauty.
The prompt for today is: wind storm.
Mine:
The trees are dancing in the sun’s fading light while the gingerbread houses of my neighbourhood watch silently, their eyes painted with white and blue Christmas lights. The wind whistles through my window as I observe the maple tree’s swaying limbs and the pine tree’s fleeing needles.
The street light is rocking gently back and forth, unable to resist joining the ballet. A solitary bird struggles by on feeble wings, too stubborn to turn and allow the gusts to take it where they please. The SUV across the street rumbles to life, unafraid of the slush and snow covering the road like dunes of sand on a far away beach.
Will I find the courage to join this perfect parade? Or shall I hide inside, awaiting calmer conditions?
But what is the use in waiting? There will never be another now, so join me as I go out to embrace this moment of wonder and beauty.
Sunday December 28th, 2008
The exercise:
Write a poem about a country you've visited. I wrote mine this morning for a story over at Protagonize and liked it enough to bring the exercise over here.
... also, I seem to have used up all of the writing in my fingertips for today.
Mine:
I know I can never forget the beach
That ended where my eyes could not reach,
Or the waves crashing over my head,
Or watching the sunrise from my bed.
On the South Island I jumped from a plane
And the view made me forget my name;
On the North Island I watched oceans
Collide like conflicting emotions.
In one night I saw more stars in the sky
Than all of the world's tearful goodbyes;
I trekked across moonscapes, through lush trees,
Up mountains that brought me to my knees.
As time passes and old age settles in,
I will think of the sun on my skin,
Of the kind and welcoming faces,
Of New Zealand's gentle embraces.
Write a poem about a country you've visited. I wrote mine this morning for a story over at Protagonize and liked it enough to bring the exercise over here.
... also, I seem to have used up all of the writing in my fingertips for today.
Mine:
I know I can never forget the beach
That ended where my eyes could not reach,
Or the waves crashing over my head,
Or watching the sunrise from my bed.
On the South Island I jumped from a plane
And the view made me forget my name;
On the North Island I watched oceans
Collide like conflicting emotions.
In one night I saw more stars in the sky
Than all of the world's tearful goodbyes;
I trekked across moonscapes, through lush trees,
Up mountains that brought me to my knees.
As time passes and old age settles in,
I will think of the sun on my skin,
Of the kind and welcoming faces,
Of New Zealand's gentle embraces.
Saturday December 27th, 2008
The exercise:
We had a rather eventful trip back to Vancouver today, which has resulted in this week's four line poem prompt: winter armageddon.
It's so bad out there that I had to write two.
Mine:
Winter has come, snow everywhere;
Abandon cars, cancel all flights!
Sidewalks are ice, walk if you dare;
Stay in your homes, survive the night.
Tonight the air is filled with the sound
Of tires spinning without gaining ground;
In the distance impotent car horns
Give the signal that it's time to mourn.
We had a rather eventful trip back to Vancouver today, which has resulted in this week's four line poem prompt: winter armageddon.
It's so bad out there that I had to write two.
Mine:
Winter has come, snow everywhere;
Abandon cars, cancel all flights!
Sidewalks are ice, walk if you dare;
Stay in your homes, survive the night.
Tonight the air is filled with the sound
Of tires spinning without gaining ground;
In the distance impotent car horns
Give the signal that it's time to mourn.
Friday December 26th, 2008
The exercise:
Oh man, I have to come up with a starter for the first time in almost two weeks.
Alright, I'm caving under the pressure. The starter for today is: boxing day.
Shut up.
Mine:
When I was backpacking through Europe I met an American while staying in a hostel in Heidelberg Germany. He was a very interesting fellow, with some unique ideas and he was one of the first Americans I met that didn't really fit in with the 'loud and proud' stereotype that I considered the norm at the time.
What really caught me off guard though was his perception of Boxing Day. He was under the impression that it was this major day in Canada and was utterly shocked by my admission that all it meant to me was cheap deals at all the major stores. He seemed quite intent that it was a day that represented something so much more to his neighbours to the north and he had a lot of trouble accepting my view that it was no big deal to any of us.
Sadly I can't remember what exactly he thought it was meant to be about but every year when Boxing Day comes around, I can't help but think of that small American man who had no idea what the day meant to Canadians.
Oh man, I have to come up with a starter for the first time in almost two weeks.
Alright, I'm caving under the pressure. The starter for today is: boxing day.
Shut up.
Mine:
When I was backpacking through Europe I met an American while staying in a hostel in Heidelberg Germany. He was a very interesting fellow, with some unique ideas and he was one of the first Americans I met that didn't really fit in with the 'loud and proud' stereotype that I considered the norm at the time.
What really caught me off guard though was his perception of Boxing Day. He was under the impression that it was this major day in Canada and was utterly shocked by my admission that all it meant to me was cheap deals at all the major stores. He seemed quite intent that it was a day that represented something so much more to his neighbours to the north and he had a lot of trouble accepting my view that it was no big deal to any of us.
Sadly I can't remember what exactly he thought it was meant to be about but every year when Boxing Day comes around, I can't help but think of that small American man who had no idea what the day meant to Canadians.
Thursday December 25th, 2008
The exercise:
Merry Christmas to all, I hope the holiday season finds you in good health and in better company.
The countdown ends, on the 200th day in a row of writing practice, with the starter: a partridge in a pear tree.
Mine:
"What's that bird doing in our tree?" Tim asked Becky.
"I'm not sure but that is one lovely hymn," Becky told Tim.
"But it's eating all of the pears!" Tim said with an angry glare.
"Well maybe it doesn't eat meat," Becky replied without missing a beat.
"We need to get rid of it before it calls the rest of its flock," Tim muttered as he picked up a rock.
"If you do that I will tell mother," Becky warned her little brother.
"Oh fine, let's go play tag under the bluff," Tim said with a shrug, falling for her bluff.
Merry Christmas to all, I hope the holiday season finds you in good health and in better company.
The countdown ends, on the 200th day in a row of writing practice, with the starter: a partridge in a pear tree.
Mine:
"What's that bird doing in our tree?" Tim asked Becky.
"I'm not sure but that is one lovely hymn," Becky told Tim.
"But it's eating all of the pears!" Tim said with an angry glare.
"Well maybe it doesn't eat meat," Becky replied without missing a beat.
"We need to get rid of it before it calls the rest of its flock," Tim muttered as he picked up a rock.
"If you do that I will tell mother," Becky warned her little brother.
"Oh fine, let's go play tag under the bluff," Tim said with a shrug, falling for her bluff.
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