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relaxed & groovy weekly prompt extravaganza!
A writer's circle with 48 members

relaxed & groovy weekly prompt extravaganza!
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Thomas Jay Rush Taylor Smith Tamara Bowman
Sherry. Attwood
runningsammy
Richard Marcano Gonzalez
Phedre odysseus Nature
Description new prompts posted on mondays for member inspiration--i'll do my best to comment/critique all circle stories. :D (along that line, please keep posted stories under 1500 words. my brain thanks you.) if you have a great prompt yourself, post it!

Discussion

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monday prompt (feb 22):

http://www.wordiq.com/definition/Loa

i'm not especially knowledgeable about the voodoo religion, but it fascinates me. may be the wonderful names for the spirits, the earthiness and immediacy of their beliefs--the religion seems to live with believers, is a very real part of their day-to-day, with physical consequences in the here and now for both transgressions and supplications. i find inspiration for stories everywhere in voodoo lore.

i linked the quick list of loas and their areas of influence for easy story ideas, but don't stop there--voodoo's a culture of its own. rich, romantic, magical, frightning--like most religion, i imagine.

here's more information:
http://www.religioustolerance.org/voodoo.htm
http://www.zoranealehurston.com/books/tell_my_horse.html

monday prompt (feb 8th):

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/07/weekinreview/07carey.html?src=twt&twt=nytimesscience

fascinating article about where consciousness begins. juicy stuff.

 

feb 1st, monday prompt: a visitor steals or destroys something from a place in which he is a guest.  Thanks for the prompt.

 A nor'easter tumbled over cattails, cranberry bog and weeds edging the frozen pond.

A shivering bough of  pine whispered, "Something will be missing tonight."  

Another laughed.  "Yeah, a few branches for sure with that wind." 

"Missing or amiss?" the third one barked  as he shook the snow off. 

"Missing? you're dumber than a block of wood.  Missing and amiss," he said. 

"We'll wait," the oldest branch said as they gazed at the rise of the weeping crescent moon and the fall of the whimpering sunset.

Clouds began to form.  The boughs thought they recognized a friend.

"No, it can't be," the oldest said. 

"But, it is." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes," as they clacked and bowed their branches.

"He finally died then.  It's true."

"No, I believe he was stolen, then killed."

 "I needed him, but I could never recall his name."

"Dignity," the oldest one said, bending under the weight of the wind.  "Simple dignity."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

okay, here's a quick in-&-out.

feb 1st, monday prompt: a visitor steals or destroys something from a place in which he is a guest.

courtesy of my current writing teacher. have at it.

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