We didn’t take any type of break for Spring, so I decided to take a mini, blog break instead. This is your semi-regular edition of the Weekly Writer’s Workshop (WWWS for short which makes me think World Wrestling something or other). Yeah, I know that’s kinda lame, but I’m leaving it.
I usually choose one prompt and roll with it. This week, I’m taking them all on, and trying to keep it short. So here it goes…
1.) Baby fever is in the air. Describe what you would do differently as a first time mom.
(Drums fingers on table, scratches noggin) Oh! Through the fog of exhaustion, I think I recall one or two nuggets. I didn’t learn this gem until it was too late dammit. Don’t change their diaper unless poo is actively leaking, supposedly they will be fine. My son was a champion pooper, blow-outs were common, so I’m not sure that this would have worked, but I would have tried it had I known. Here’s another, if your camera has a video setting, remember to use it FREQUENTLY, from the moment they are born. I didn’t remember until James was about 9 months old, and I’m still kicking myself ’bout that.
2.) What book captured your heart? Write about why the first book you loved is the first book you loved.
Oh- there have been so, so many books that I’ve loved. My all time, fav of favorite books is To Kill a Mockingbird. I read it for the first time when I was home sick with the flu, I was pretty young, maybe 9. I remember being impressed when Scout asked her Dad to, “pass the damn ham” to try to show that she was learning inappropriate behavior in school, so that she wouldn’t have to back. Her attempt worked no better than mine. I didn’t stop to think that my mother had also read the book, and knew exactly what I was doing. I still have the book, the cover is held on with a rubber band, but it is tucked safely away in my collection.
3.) Who is a bird-brain? Think about all the birds you’ve seen–from songbirds to hunters. Compare one or more people you know to different types of birds in a piece of writing.
I have a feeling that this one is supposed to be poetic, but I’ve got nothing….I haven’t thought of someone in bird terms since I was in ballet. She was the image of a ballerina, tall, thin, no boobs or hips, and an attitude that was, well, let’s just say she was well on her way to being a diva. She also was well on her way to being an outstanding dancer, and she was one of our instructor’s favorites. I think all of us… ahem…stocky gals were jealous, because we were unkind with regards to her nose, and choice of haircut. She had a rather large, pointy nose and an 80s bob that was…er…big . She was the bird wedge. I know, not very nice.
4.) Why do we need 26? If you could change the alphabet, what would you do? Add? Subtract? Combine? Simplify? Write about it.
The letter X bothers me. Just try teaching a four-year-old why x sounds like z sometimes. Has anyone tried? Yeah, well if you haven’t yet, good luck with that. James looked at me sideways with a, “mother have you taken up drinking?” expression, after I stumbled through trying to explain that quirk.
5.) Where does that fear come from? Write about something that frightens you that other people might find ridiculous. Write about it in a poem, a story, or whatever.
As an adult, I don’t have any particularly unusual fears. I’m not a huge fan of the dark, and maggots give me the shivers. As a child, I used to be terribly afraid of …wait for it…a closet. Oh yes. It was a closet at the top of the stairs on a landing, in my Grandmother’s century-old farmhouse. The landing doubled as my bedroom when I visited. The closet was built into a wall that was six feet thick, and had a door sized perfectly for a five-year-old.
By day, it was the perfect kid hideout complete with old photo albums, boxes of clothes, stacks of board games, and a suitcase which I realized much later contained all the love letters that my grandparent’s wrote when they were courting. My grandmother played my grandfather like a fiddle – that minx. It was my castle, a comfy place to look at pictures, play with toys, or talk in secret with my cousins. By night it transformed the place where my darkest fears came alive. It became the lair of a scaly, toothy, monster that I was convinced would sneak out and gobble me up in two, maybe three, slobbery bites, as James would say, “for REAL.” Only the light over my bed kept the monster at bay and I usually went to be terrified that my parents would forget and turn off the light while I slept. It wasn’t until I was older, and realized that my bed, which was pushed up against the closet door at night, created a barricade, which would prevent the monster from helping its nasty self to a tasty McKid snack.
Well I got ’em all covered, but didn’t keep it terribly brief. I have to watch James show me his mad karate skills now. Have a good evening everyone.
If you haven’t participated in Mama Kat’s weekly workshop, give it a try.