You remember Writing 101? I had so much fun doing that, and despite failing horribly at participating in Writing 201, I still enjoy quite a few blogs and comments and conversation with some participants of the first class. Also, it made me write. I was sorry that it didn’t last that long – for which I’m to blame, really, BUT – I plan to do it again! Because, as probably all of you know, regular content is the most important thing and I do hope it might inspire some posts and readers to stay.
Tell us the story of your most-prized possession.
Tell us the story of your most-prized possession. My most-prized possession. Possession.
Funny thing, isn’t it? Possessions? If you’re like me, at one time or another you wondered what one thing you would try to save if your house was on fire (always assuming every living being is safe). What is it that you would rush to, grab, throw it out of the window, if need be, just to make sure it wouldn’t be lost to the flames? That one thing you wouldn’t want to live without, even though you might not use it every day or even think about every day, but it is there, fixed in your heart, signifying… something important. More often than not, I would think, are these things nothing of real monetary value – but what they lack in value they make up in emotional importance.
Don’t Stop the Rockin’. Write at least four-hundred words, and once you start typing, don’t stop. No self-editing, no trash-talking, and no second guessing: just go.
It’s funny that just yesterday I said to Leander how I didn’t like the prefabricated story assignments, because they feel too constricted, too narrow for me, for my writing. I joined the class to learn something about my writing, to hone it, to just keep going. But prefabricated stories do nothing for me. No creativity comes from it, no real flow and I don’t feel like I learn something from it. The free writing we already did on Day 1 on the other hand – that really surprised the hell out of me because it was much better than I anticipated. First I could only think about how hard it was but then, suddenly, the words flowed and a natural theme evolved, without editing, without thinking on what I would write beforehand. Thoughts directly to words…
There is a place in the world that is the labyrinth of myself where it is neither dark nor light and both dark and light. Here, somewhere between Forgotten and Rememberance, shadows form thoughts and feelings, both beautiful and dangerous. Those dwell here that are Lost, waiting to be Found or Forgotten, or sometimes they just are what they are, Lost and Remembered, sometimes smiling, sometimes sad, sometimes angry.