Writing Prompts (for those dry spells)

If you’re ever looking to write about something generated outside your own brain, here are some ideas!

Sarah Elizabeth Moore

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The 2018 August Write Away Challenge

If you’re just joining us, please feel free to go back and read the previous content so you’re up to speed! Otherwise, scroll down for today’s prompt.

• 2018 August Write Away Challenge original post
• Day 1 – What book did you read over and over again as a child?
• Day 2 – Some of the things that make me happy are…
• Day 3 – Name three things you’d do if you weren’t so afraid.
• Day 4 – How easy is it for you to forgive those who have caused you pain?
• Day 5 – What are your best character traits?
• Day 6 – What grand adventure do you wish you could go on?
• Day 7 – Dear past me…
• Day 8 – If you could meet any fictional character, who would it be?
• Day 9 – Your favorite movies.
• Day 10 – Did you…

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Ice Cream, Safeway and Letting Go

Ice cream is the secret to a long and happy life. My dad, an almost daily eater of ice cream is, at 94, my evidentiary proof.  If red wine drinkers have convinced the world of the medicinal argument for their lust, I’ll go with the longevity argument for mine.

So, I eat ice cream, leaning toward anything with salted caramel in it.

How Many Days Left?

“My mom will be alive for at least six more days. Now five.”

A countdown had begun in my head.

They were unsettling thoughts, this countdown to…what? A renewed chance at life? Or death. I wasn’t thinking these thoughts; they—and the associated fear—were just…there.  It didn’t matter that I didn’t want them.

My 88-year-old mom landed in the hospital multiple times this year, starting in March, when my 94-year-old father got her to the ER just in time.  By summer, after multiple hospital trips, doctor visits and medical tests, they had her scheduled for heart-valve surgery in June; told her she needed a new hip; and informed her she had a slow-growing cancer. It was a layer cake of issues.

When Birthdays Go Awry

My birthday was a fizzling failure. Or a shimmering success. It depends on what lens you see it through.

Breakfast seemed simple: go out and have someone wait on me, bring me exactly what I want, clear things away and do the dishes. Luxuriate in some morning spoiling all while checking out a new café in town.

It was the heart of your typical breakfast rush hour when we walked in, and the place was…empty. Not a single customer. No greeter. No wait staff. Utter silence. Not a good sign.

“They’re new,” I said to Bubba. “Still working out the kinks.”

Return to Blogging

I fell off the blogging wagon. I’d like to blame it solely on the demise of WordPress’s Daily Prompt, but that’s like saying I eat ice cream only because they sell it at the grocery store. Right. It makes no sense.

I’m back. Taking it slower than before when I was overly ambitious with my blogging frequency. Had I spooled out my posts to date, they could’ve carried me through to today. Instead, I front loaded and then…life got busy and my postings dried up.

I’m looking forward to catching up. Or at least, jumping back in, and seeing what ya’ll have been up to.

I’m also looking forward to getting back to writing about how, so often, I’m of two minds (or more) about things. That hasn’t changed.

 

Photo source: Alexas_Fotos on Pixabay

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