prompt fun
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The title sounds like the fun I'm having is punctual... on time. Ha! Instead, I had a great time last night with several fellow writers in town. We were led through a few writing prompts inspired by words, phrases, and even a photo.
I shared one bit on Facebook, and I thought I'd do the same on my blog with another selection.
Sometimes we get stuck in our writing... seriously. I haven't had such a freeing time writing in months. I've been neck deep in stories already started, characters I've been thinking about for ages. This was such a breath of fresh air. It really reminded me of why I like writing.
The possibilities are endless!!
This small bit was inspired by a photo of a house. Low-slung porch with doors and windows open, it had a warm homey feel to it. A swing off to the left and two chairs on the right had pillows. Made me want to step up and stay awhile...
I don't know about you, but I do believe there's a ghost story in that one somewhere. I'm filing it away for the next time I feel the need to break out of my rut!
Have a great week, friends!
With love,
Beth
I shared one bit on Facebook, and I thought I'd do the same on my blog with another selection.
Sometimes we get stuck in our writing... seriously. I haven't had such a freeing time writing in months. I've been neck deep in stories already started, characters I've been thinking about for ages. This was such a breath of fresh air. It really reminded me of why I like writing.
The possibilities are endless!!
This small bit was inspired by a photo of a house. Low-slung porch with doors and windows open, it had a warm homey feel to it. A swing off to the left and two chairs on the right had pillows. Made me want to step up and stay awhile...
...All the doors were open, inviting the young woman up the steps and over the front porch. She paused on the threshold and knocked on the dark wood. “Hello in the house,” she called out.
A breeze whispered by.
She entered, a flutter of nerves settling in her stomach. “Anyone home?”
The television was on in the corner of the great, open space. Two big sofas sat eskew to the right angles. An afghan hung over the back of one. Inviting, she thought, as she made her way toward the open doorway opposite her entry.
A breeze whispered by.
The rocker over to her left caught the moving hair and creaked. The old wood burning stove sat in the corner beyond, cold and dark. On the wall hung an old time photo, a family portrait. Women in skirts, men in their suits, gripping lapels. Not a grin on one face, except for the little one.
Just off to the right, a small child posed, knickers riding high on one leg, a ball in his hand....
I don't know about you, but I do believe there's a ghost story in that one somewhere. I'm filing it away for the next time I feel the need to break out of my rut!
Have a great week, friends!
With love,
Beth