Storytelling

This is a little behind but I now have fairy tales on the brain. I signed up for an introduction to storytelling workshop, which ran last weekend. It was incredible. I absolutely loved it. And we played some theatre games. That definitely earned approval. I am in love with storytelling. Actually that’s nothing new, I always have been. I went to a storytelling camp when I was 8 or 9 and have always loved listening to stories. Clare Muireann Murphy taught the workshop – I am completely jealous of Toronto for getting her for an all day intensive series at the storytelling festival today. She suggested starting with fairy tales, legends and folklore, so hence the fairy tale state if mind. And someone else from the class suggested a practice group so I need a story ready for the first meeting on Tuesday. Well, this morning I drafted my own fairy tale, a twist on a classic. I love it when I so thoroughly amuse myself. :) whee!

Haikubes Play

I know, it’s been a while. That life thing happened again. Pesky life. But I picked up a new writing toy from Think Geek: Haikubes. Roll the dice and create a haiku from the assembled letters. Two dice also provide a theme for your haiku. So here is my first, for good or good laughs.

A reflection on my romantic life:

one glancing happy
shot leaves dreaming time behind
melodic clamour

I think I need to host a game night of Haikubes, Once Upon A Time and other fun things. I bought Once Upon A Time many months ago and have not yet tried it out. It’s a crime.

Strong

She sat there in the mud, wet, dirty, dejected. Weak. She hated that feeling. She hated herself when she felt that way. Letting them push her around like that. She stared into the puddle unlooking but noticed her reflection, muddied and distorted, helplessness and fear morphed into rage by the ripples, splashes of mud smearing her soft face giving it a less than human quality. She stared into the reflection that was her and was not her. She saw someone, something, strong and powerful. She burned that distorted image of herself into her mind’s eye.
She did not hear the girls’ laughter as she stood. She did not see their faces as she stalked towards them. All she saw was that reflection in the mud.
The girls saw her face and their laughter stopped. They saw a gleam of madness in her eyes. And then they saw no more.

A daily writing exercise provided by OneWord where you are given 60 seconds to write a response to the one word prompt.

And sometimes the 60 seconds are up and you have to keep writing anyways. This is one of those times. I can’t actually write THAT fast.

Outlet

Julie needed an outlet. Something to release everything that she was feeling, the rage, the anger, the sadness, everything that she kept pent up inside. But she wouldn’t let herself release it. So when the guy pushed her she lost it. She grabbed the closest thing to her and hit him with it until he stopped moving.

A daily writing exercise provided by OneWord where you are given 60 seconds to write a response to the one word prompt.

Tangle

Golden tresses fell in a tangle of knots, spilling over the edge of the bed and onto the dark hardwood floor. A sleepy moan escaped and feet kicked out unsuccessfully, tied in a knot of blankets. Sunlight spilled softly into the room and clear blue eyes blinked lazily open.

A daily writing exercise provided by OneWord where you are given 60 seconds to write a response to the one word prompt.

Chocolate

Mmm. Chocolate. Warm, rich, melts on your tongue and coats your throat with silken delight. Chocolate, the colour of rich decadence, of indulgence. Chocolate… Your eyes were a rich chocolate brown like truffles. I could not tear my own sea-blues away from them.

A daily writing exercise provided by OneWord where you are given 60 seconds to write a response to the one word prompt.

Yup, you can tell it’s been a while since I did one of these exercises. They flow better after a few days of practice.

Tell Us the Tale, Tell us the Tale!

I know, I haven’t been writing much lately. I do have two pieces of flash to edit and post, but that’s not why I am writing right now. I am signing up for a beginner’s storytelling workshop next month. Whee! I have always LOVED storytelling. I actually took a storytelling course when I was a kid (8?) for a week. I told a story a few years ago at a bardic competition (talent competition, with alcoholic bribery for the fun of it). And that’s really the extent of my storytelling experience aside from loving listening to is and extreme envy over my bard friends. It looks like it should be a lot of fun. It’s a full Saturday program and very affordable. The only problem is that now I need to come up with a story to tell and work on at the workshop. I have one month.

Happy Dance in the Kitchen

I got exciting news this morning. I get to be a slush reader for Every Day Fiction. I applied for the volunteer position a while back and just heard back this morning. I will be reading and commenting on story submissions for the next three months at least. Yay! I think this is going to be really fun and a great way to learn more about flash fiction (or at least one interpretation of it because it can very a lot) and how to improve my own writing.

I know. I’ve been terrible. I haven’t written in a good while. I thought I sprained my wrist and writing was painful and I got out of the habit. Going to try and fix that. I went to our first NINE (November Is Not Enough) meeting last Saturday for local NaNoWriMos that wanted to keep meeting through the year. I did a litle bit of editing on my nano novel, though not as much as I had hoped. I’m going to have to suck it up and print the whole thing out so I can give it a good round of editing.

I’ve also been brainstorming away on my new novel idea. Lots of brainstorming. I’ve been reading James N. Frey’s The Key: How to Write Damn Good Fiction using the Power of Myth and it’s been inspiring lots of ideas and questions. It’s an interesting read. No details for you yet about the novel idea. This is one that demands a lot of planning before I go anywhere with it.

Burial

Jessica stared down at the picture in her hand. A small  tear crept to the corner of her eye and sat there. The old familiar pain raised in her chest again, threatening to consume her. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned.

“It’s ok. It’s time.” That warm face was so full of love, understanding and compassion. The voice was soft, the eyes, almost hypnotizing. She nodded.

Gently she placed the photograph into the box along with the other objects, momentos of a happier time. Momentos of her heartache and loss. The tear rolled down her pale cheek as Jessica forced herself to close the box and lock it. She felt as though her heart would rip in two.

Jessica took the black cloth bag she was handed, placed the box inside, and placed them in the hole.

“Black represents an end. Letting go. It is also the darkness of the womb, of cosmic creation. Release your pain, your past to mother earth.”

Jessica brushed soil overtop of the covered box. Then she took the seeds she was handed and gently planted them in the soil.

“White seeds for the new life that must grow.”

Jessica covered the seeds with more soil and watered the earth. Then she stood and turned to her companion. Her companion smiled.

“Good. Now it is time to live again in the present and in love.”

Jessica breathed a sigh of relief.

A daily writing prompt from A Creative Writer’s Kit: Write about a ceremony.

Support

She needed his support so badly. And when she needed it most he was gone. Just like that. How typical, she told herself. How was she supposed to do this without him. She paced about the kitche, fuming for several minutes. Just when she was about to give up all hope together, she noticed the small note tacked to the fridge: “You can do it! I love you.” She smiled and took a deep breath. Maybe he was right.

A daily writing exercise provided by OneWord where you are given 60 seconds to write a response to the one word prompt.

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