Did I Miss a Clue?


Be a Writer Now: Day 5:

Writing Prompt: Write a poem about dating experiences.  Or write a story about a character who goes on a first date with someone s/he met over the Internet.  Nothing about this person matches up with what s/he said about himself/herself online.  What is going on?


Five foot six.

That’s a little shorter than me.

Played girl’s field hockey, in her day.

She talks cute. I like her stylish way of saying things.

Loves walks on the beach and sunsets.

I do too.

She has had the same job since her college days.

Wow! That’s a great work ethic. At least she won’t be after my money. Not that I have that much.

We planned to meet here at the Comic Convention at the Hotel Grande. I don’t like comic books, but it was most public place in town.

Safety is important to her. She not flighty. That’s good. I am tired of clueless….

It’s almost 3:00 pm. She said she would be sitting by the water fountains. A yellow jumper carrying and a cowboy hat placed beside her.

She’s from Texas. I thought that was cute. There she is!  

She turns and smiles. She’s got a beautiful smile.

In our contact information that we were over 25… I’m 27.  I think I should have asked a few more clarifying ……

“Hi. You must me Eugene. I’m Samantha. You can call me ‘Sam;. All my friends used to.”

What have I done?  

Written for Creative Writing Now: Be a Writer Now class


Oh, No! Not Again!


Be a Writer Now: Day 4

Writing Prompt: Write a poem about things you’ve forgotten.


Forgotten alarms.

Such reckless foolishness!

Now, where are those keys?

Written for Creative Writing Now: Be a Writer Now class

” A 211 … In Progress”


Be a Writer Now: Day 3

Writing Prompt: Write a part of a story or poem that includes all three of these elements: a lipstick print, jealousy, and something glimpsed in a mirror.


Clothes were strewn across the room. Every drawer was either hanging askew or dumped on the floor. The mattress was pulled from the bed. It was ripped corner to corner. Someone was looking for something. The questions were, “What was it? and “Did they find it?” There were even two holes knocked out of the plastered walls. This room had been given a though search.

Two glasses were setting on the dresser top. One still had the small markings of ruby lipstick on its brim.

“Williams,” my partner called. He had just lifted the mattress and bedclothes. “She’s no longer missing.”

She had been shot. Numerous times. One in each leg. Once in the shoulder. Then the final shot. Either they had given up questioning her, or they had gotten the information that they wanted.

What would cause something like this? This was torture. No mere jealous husband would go to this extreme.

“Mac, behind you!” I saw reflection of something moving behind us from the mirrors above the dresser.

Written for Creative Writing Now: Be a Writer Now class

Shhhh, Claudius


Be a Writer Now: Day 2


Write a poem or part of a story about someone locked in a dark room (you can decide why the person is locked there).


Crawling under the bed, I quietly call for Claudius. He comes right away, He always does. His four paws softly paddle under the bed after me. We wiggle all the way under, back into the corner. Gently pushing several of my toys aside, and then in front of me, I think we are safely hidden.

I hear them. They are standing at my door. They sound so kind and caring. But I know what they want.

The doorknob turns. It’s locked. I was sure to lock it when Claudius found his way back and we were finally together.

A knock. Another. Then, a sterner rap. “Open the door.” That was the kind one.

“Open the door, now.” That was the one your always have to obey.

They are pretenders. Sometimes I think that they care, but then there are nights like this.

I hear the key. I lose. Again.

I see the feet. He sits on the floor by my bed. “Come here, Claudius.” Claudius leaves me. He always obeys.

I hear his panting and soft “Grrrr”. I know that Dad is rubbing Claudius’s belly. Claudius always makes that sounds when he is happy.

“You know you can’t sleep in here, Claudius.”

“Come on out, son. As soon as the storm is over, you have the take Claudius back out to his kennel.”

I lose, again.

Written for Creative Writing Now: Be a Writer Now class

Why I Write: A Letter to Me


Be a Writer Now: Day 1


Why have you decided to make a commitment to your writing?  Write a letter or e-mail to your future self explaining why your writing should be a priority.

Then send this letter to yourself, or save it to reread in 5 days (I’ll remind you).

If you want, you can use Lettermelater to send it to your future self as an e-mail.  Schedule the e-mail to be sent in 5 days time.

You can create a free Lettermelater account here: http://www.lettermelater.com/create_account.php


Dear Me,

I am writing to “me” on this day of all special days to remind myself of why I write.

First off, creative writing and journaling are not the same thing, At least, the way that I use them, they are completely different. I journal to organize my thoughts. Journaling can relive the tenseness and tedium of the day. Journaling can allow the events of the day to fall into place and become more coherent. When I journal, I can identify the path that I am walking, and ascertain if this path is taking me to the places that I want to travel.

Creative writing, for me, is very different. In creative writing, I can construct a totally new world. In my creative writing, I choose to create a world from the past. I enjoy historical compositions. In historical compositions, I have to carefully research the events about which I am to include in my writing. I love the fact that I can create a new human being, alive and well during an historical event, and then see that event through the eyes of this new being. I think that this can bring clarity to important moments in a world’s history. By understanding another person situations and dilemmas, one can then use those moments of decision and indecision to help explain the events that are unfolding in present day life. I guess, in that sense, I am writing to assist in allowing change to happen in the world. Walking in another’s shoes, allows experiences that one can “live to their fullest” without the burdensome aftereffects of those experiences.

Creative writing allows one to give meaning to events that seem random and insignificant because one is not aware of all of the underlying ramifications that took your character from point A to point B. Once the reader is aware of all those events, a fuller life is allowed in the fictional character’s life, thus allowing the reader to also experience “life” at a whole new level.

Both ‘reading’ and “writing’ can give a new perspective on life to its participants, but without the writing… there would be nothing to read. So writing …is the giving birth to life. Writing can hone in on the magnificent essences and nuances that a bold, brave life can offer. This will allow the reader to make the appropriate steps, if they so desire and are courageous enough, to go to places never before dreamer possible.

A reader can experience and sustain a new life… because they read about it in a book.

That is why I write.



Written for Creative Writing Now: Be a Writer Now class

Full of Surprises

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Writing 101: Building a Blogging Habit

DAY 5: Be Brief


Today’s Prompt: You stumble upon a random letter on the path. You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter.

Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.


Finally, mowing day. The first of the season.

While gassing up and backing the mower out of the shed, I noticed the leaves that have accumulated in the corner of the shed behind the bride’s wreath bushes.

Using the rake to declutter the corners of the pillars and behind the shrubs, a small blue envelope emerges in the small collection of lawn litter.  The classical written name had been weathered and smeared.

Ms. Adatabanks.

She was my recently deceased widow lady that had lived next door to me as long as I had lived here. She and her husband had had no children.

I had assisted her with her yardwork. She never allowed anyone to help her with the flowerbeds. “They need that tender touch form someone who loves them,” she had said.

Had the letter been previously opened? It was torn. My curiosity got the best of me.

Ms. Adatabanks had passed. What was there to still keep private?

Opening the envelope, I began to read.


 My dearest Mother,

It has been years since we have been in touch and I….


I paused as I tried to decide… Should I continue reading…?

Written for Writing 101: Building a Blogging Habit.

Kamikaze Tennis

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Writing 101: Building a Blogging Habit

DAY 4: Serially Lost


Today’s Prompt: Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.


In my younger days, I enjoyed playing tennis. There were always one or two people around, some more competitive than others, who were up for a game. We would be at our neighborhood court from sunrise to after lights and the curfew took over. We would visit local tennis courts on weekends and make a day of it- playing whoever the top players at that local establishment happened to be- or happened to show up.

One of my best memories was traveling to a local college with a younger- and smaller- little brother. He was a skilled kamikaze at the tennis net. To make him back off the net, the opposing team would have to nail him with the ball. (More than just once!) That did not happen very often, because nailing a little dude at the net made you look bad. We won every match that day (ELEVEN OF THEM!) until that last one. My poor friend went home with several tennis ball welts! And we lost 6-0, 6-0, 6-0 the last match. I guess the guys at the college had had enough of losing to two gamblers.

Written for Writing 101: Building a Blogging Habit.