Author: JennyDetroit (Page 24 of 43)

Poem #9

I gave my students a prompt today for our “writing workshop.” It was as follows: “Write a list poem using only CONCRETE NOUNS. Make the title an abstract word such as: Compassion, Jealousy, Envy, Wisdom, etc.”

Since I believe it’s important that I share in the work my students do (especially when that work is writing), here is my poem. Not sure if I like it, but in the spirit of “show your work,” I’m sharing.

 

Time

Bed sheets.

Pillow.

Alarm clock.

Pillow.

Cat claws.

Coffee cup.

Soap.

Boots.

Mittens.

Rosary beads.

Notebook.

Sticky notes.

Screens.

Screens.

Screens.

Bells.

Diet Pepsi.

Peanut butter.

Steering wheel.

Dinosaurs.

Crayons.

Toothbrushes.

Books.

Binkies.

Kisses.

Tears.

Hugs.

Nightlights.

Dishwater.

T.V.

Vitamins.

Books.

Bed sheets.

Pillow.

Pillow.

Pillow.

Here are some lines

I’m in a stuck moment with my latest short story, “Things.” (This will hopefully not be its finished title, but it’s what I’ve got right now.)

When I get stuck, I sometimes try to write a bunch of different “Next lines” to see if any of them get me unstuck. Here are the ones I wrote the other day:

  1. The fighting pit smelled like wet straw and blood.
  2.  The first drink was always the hardest.
  3. Only the nosebleed seats were sold to the public. The rest were reserved.
  4. The blood inside his body burned hot; his muscles hardened like tempered steel.
  5. Jora hated the streets during the Thing.
  6.  “Odin, All-Father, grant me a good defeat.”

I’m not sure if I like any of these, or if they’re the right “next line” in the story, but I think a few of them could be the start of other scenes/sequences in the narrative. If nothing else, this exercise allows me to see various paths for the story to take. Even if I take none of these particular paths, the very fact that these paths *could* exist is helpful for me. It lets me know that the story is fluid, and that there isn’t necessarily a wrong choice, just different choices.

Random Tables

I’ve been stuck in a mire with my fiction writing lately. I’m almost finished with a short story, “The Wind Masters,” and I’ve started another story called “Things” (that’s a working title), but my imagination has been pretty dry recently. It’s been hard to conjure images in my mind.

So I’ve decided to practice a new habit: Creativity Hour. I’m pretty sure this comes from James Scott Bell in his book on plot structure; the basic idea is that a writer should spend some dedicated time each week coming up with ideas.

A few months ago, I made a list of activities that could help me with generating ideas and images (I’m like C.S. Lewis in that way: I start with a picture in my mind), and then when it’s “Creativity Hour” time, I can pick an activity or two to do for about an hour.

I usually work in my writer’s notebook for these sessions. Sometimes I’ll listen to evocative music and write down the images that come to mind. Sometimes I’ll do a “Try Ten” and makes lists. Other times I’ll just free-write, or ask myself, “What do I want to write about right now?” I might also look at cool artwork and get ideas from the images.

Today I tried using random tables from some of my RPG books to generate ideas. The fantastic Dungeon Alphabet, the Monster Alphabet, issue #2 of the Wormskin zine, the Lazy DM’s Cheat Sheet. After about 30 minutes of messing around, I ended up on the psychedelics table in Wormskin, and then the ideas started to flow. I thought about scenes for my Norse-inspired story, “Things,” and started the seedlings of other stories and characters (one that I particularly like is a dragon with piercing white eyes without pupils).

Anyway, it was neat seeing how these random tables for role-playing games could be used to inspire my fiction. I’m not particularly interested in using my homebrew DCC RPG campaign as fodder for a novel or anything; instead, it’s more about the randomness of the tables being a nice way to challenge my imagination, improvising and mixing together disparate elements. The randomness opens up my imagination, makes me think: How can I fit this into my current work-in-progress? How can I use this to tell a *new* story? How can I combine these two seemingly unrelated things into something whole?

Random tables serve as a kind of tonic for the imagination. They can give a jolt of energy to an over-tired, dulled mind.

Black Dog

One of my students mentioned Led Zeppelin the other day, and man, what a great band. I have loved Led Zeppelin for decades but haven’t listened to them much lately. No particular reason why, just listening to other stuff. But when my American Lit class brought them up this week, I was all about going on a Zeppelin binge.

So. Many. Great. Songs.

Seriously, I can’t think of any Zeppelin songs that are actively bad. Or even mediocre. All their songs rock. All have something interesting going on. All are eminently listenable. “Kashmir.” “Going to California.” “That’s the Way.” “Tangerine.” “Black Dog.”

I once tried out for my high school talent show by singing “Black Dog” with a band of guys who were total stoners and awesome dudes. Very talented. My singing, alas, was not so much, and we didn’t get in. But I still had a heckuva good time jamming to that song.

Ordinary Day

I didn’t blog yesterday. It’s okay; one miss isn’t a big deal. Two misses, though, can be the “beginning of a pattern.”

Today’s been a day of music. Lots of listening to old favorites. The Smithereens. Great Big Sea. Mumford and Sons’ first album (always the first album; sometimes the second; never the third).

“The Road Goes On.” (I might be the only person who remembers the Lord of the Rings musical.)

“Morning Has Broken.” (Gosh, do I miss Pushing Daisies!)

“Colours.”

“Beautiful.”

I know it’s not very original or unique to feel this way, but there’s nothing that can make one’s heart swell and yearn more deeply than a good song. Music is sometimes the air I need to breathe. Today was one of those days. I needed to feel the old ache that comes from hearing good music. I don’t know why I needed it, but I did. And somehow, when the music crescendos, when the harmonies gather into a rising wave, when the melody explodes into a final refrain — it’s in that moment that everything falls away, and there’s nothing but me and the music, and life is somehow distilled into that moment, and goosebumps cover my skin, and I know everything’s gonna be okay.

It was nice to have those moments today. To have those songs. To feel good.

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