Posts Tagged ‘prompts’

Tarot Writing Prompt: Wishcrafting

September 24, 2016

WRITE IT DOWN, MAKE IT HAPPEN. That’s the title of my favorite self-help book. Written by Henriette Anne Klauser, the book is crammed as full as a Whitman’s sampler with stories of people making their own magic—just by writing down what they want.

For instance, one woman, given short notice to leave her apartment, created a wish list: two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a garage (with an automatic door opener), a view of Puget Sound, and, finally, “someplace quiet; beautiful and pristine.” She found her ideal living space within days of writing down her desires.

Of course, for every story like that, we’ve all heard one that sounds more like: “Oh! I should have specified to the Universe that I want neighbors who love Bach fugues, not Eagles of Death Metal!”

Hence, the caveat, “Be careful what you wish for.”

But no need to caution your fictional folks! No, sir! Our job as writers is to get our characters into as much trouble as possible. And there’s no trouble quite so engaging as that which a character brings on herself (a poorly considered wish being just the thing to attract a wasp’s-nest worth of mess!).

Dr. Klauser’s approach, though, invites us to step beyond mere wishing. Putting our wishes into writing gives them focus, she says. It transforms our pen into a magic wand of manifestation—and us into agents for our own change.

Tarot writing prompt

Give your character a problem to solve. When she conjures up a big wish in response to that problem, get her to write it down—and then, dear Writer Magician, make your character’s written desire so. For better. Or for worse.

This writing prompt was inspired by The Magician of the tarot deck. The Magician is a master of manifestation—and a charmer, to boot. Ruled by Mercury, the winged god of communication, The Magician is a real sweet talker, Betty Crocker, and has been known to sell those under his spell a bill of goods.

Tarot Writing Prompt: Leap!

September 11, 2016

OFTEN, IN FAIRY TALES, the youngest son (sorry, most traditional tales are gender biased!), who is seen as a foolish dreamer by his older brothers, sets off to seek his fortune. Inspired by the chance to win a princess’s hand, he attempts an impossible task, one at which far wiser folk have failed. For instance, he might have to climb a glass mountain, travel to the home of the North Wind (try finding that on MapQuest!), or grab the single fish—from the whole wide sea—that has swallowed the princess’s precious pearl.

But the youngest son? He don’t care! Bring it! he says. And leaps into whatever chance has brought his way.

The thing is, this kid usually has no discernible skills. He’s not even that good at milking the cow or guarding the sheep. So how the heck is he going to unravel the 1000-mile long skein of enchanted gold thread that’s choking the king’s wheat field?

Welp. In addition to having luck on his side, he has a total disregard for his own lack of skill. He just gives it a go! What’ve I got to lose? is his motto. (Plus, he’s desperate. Anything’s better than staying at home and listening to his brothers’ taunts and jeers.)

You know the rest. Along the way, he finds magical helpers: The crone who offers him a walnut that, when cracked, releases a coach and four—or the billy goat that not only speaks English, but has the 4-1-1 on the in’s and out’s of the royal household! And, eventually, through wit (or the conspicuous lack of it), he wins the princess’s hand and her heart—he’s such a lovable goofball, after all.

The point here (at least for this prompt) is that the kid jumps right off the cliff of reason into action. Improbable action. Action for which he is (seemingly) totally unprepared! And in doing so, looks dead set to prove his smug brothers right. But, foolish though this hero may be, he prevails. Yup. The universe rewards his chutzpah by sending flocks of flying fish to carry him unthinkable distances so he can accomplish the unreasonable task(s) set before him and win the prize he seeks—thus changing his fortunes forever.

Tarot writing prompt

Write about a time in your own life (or that of a character) in which a seriously foolish and/or impulsive action ended surprisingly well. Make good use of words like “impossible,” “unlikely,” “unprepared,” “chance,” and “luck.” And throw in a magical helper or two for good measure. (Hint: Entire novels have been based on just such a premise. You know. In case you were looking for a premise upon which to base an entire novel.)

This writing prompt was inspired by the wild child of the tarot, The Fool.

Tarot Writing Prompt: Decisions, Decisions

February 20, 2016

WE’VE ALL BEEN THERE. That moment when we have to make a decision—even though the choices facing us are bleak. We may try to forestall the inevitable, blindfolding ourselves to the necessity of choosing one not-so-good option over another. But eventually, the tide of urgency rises behind us and forces us to the keen sword-edge of decision.

Tarot writing prompt

Today, take pen (or keyboard) in hand and write about such a difficult decision-making moment. But first, you’ll have to make a choice.

Option A) Tell a tale from true life, detailing exactly what happened when you were faced with a plate of unpalatable choices. What were the circumstances? What was at stake? What was the worst (and best) that could come of any of the choices? Which did you pick? HOW did you pick? What happened next?

(Of course, you can drama-up the story. String out the suspense! Double up the consequences! Heck, go ahead and make your decision-making self a hero. Because you probably were. It’s tough to act when no action looks good.)

Option B) Create a character faced with an impossible decision. (Okay, maybe not SOPHIE’S CHOICE-impossible . . . but difficult, nonetheless.) Erect escalating tiers of stakes that force the character to the point of choice—and be sure to show the (excruciating!) risks inherent in her options. But what if your character bails? What if she is so completely paralyzed by choice that she puts her fate in the toss of a coin? Or in the pulling of straws? Or in a round of eenie-meenie-miny-moe? Welp. Then let the penny drop. Let the eenie-meenie begin. And when all is said and done, make her deal with the consequences of her (default) choice.

This writing prompt was inspired by the Two of Swords card in the tarot deck.

Writing Prompt: Collectible

February 6, 2016

COMIC BOOKS. COINS. HAND GUNS. Thimbles. Breyer horses. Romantic conquests. Shoes. Recipes. Baseball cards. Tombstone rubbings. Tarot decks.

Q. What do all these have in common?
A. Someone, somewhere, collects them. (And may occasionally engage in some pretty edgy behaviors in the pursuit.)

Writing prompt

Make a list of collectibles. Then, building on your own experience as a collector, or your observations of a collector in your world, write about a situation (fictional or non) in which a collector of one of the categories on your list goes out on a limb, putting himself—or his loved ones—in jeopardy to acquire a new piece for his collection.

Does he cross the line into hoarding? Mortgage his house or skip the rent to make his purchase? Get out of his depth at an auction? List things that could go wrong. Then put a desired object just out of his reach—and go from there.

Writing Prompt: The Peter Principle

February 6, 2016

HERE’S A SECRET. Peter Elbow, author and professor of writing, is a crazy genius. The spine of my worn, torn copy of his WRITING WITH POWER is cracked at Chapter 9, “Metaphors for Priming the Pump,” from frequent consultation. In that chapter, Elbow lists wild ways to help you get at a topic.

These include (but are not limited to!), “Questions to help you write a self-evaluation,” “Questions to help you write about a place,” and “Suggestions to help you write about a problem or dilemma.”

Writing prompt

Just to give you an example, let’s hop to “Suggestions to help you write about a problem or dilemma,” and see what we can make happen.

To start I’m going to name a dilemma. (If you’re playing along, go ahead and jot down a problem facing either you or your character.)
Dilemma: My unshaded front yard receives unwavering Florida sun. I dislike too much sun. Therefore, I dislike—and neglect—my yard.
Now, I’m going to consult Elbow’s write-about-a-problem list. (If you’re still playing, consider these suggestions to apply to your stated problem.)
1. The problem is that God is angry. At whom? Why? What did that person do to make God angry?
2. Assume the problem is a problem of numbers. Try performing the following operations on it: addition, subtraction, division, multiplication, percentages, moving a decimal place.
3. Assume the problem is sabotage.
I’ve picked an approach: Assume the problem is sabotage. (Because, of course!)
I’m going to write my little heart out about my too-hot-to-bear yard, as if it were an issue of sabotage, and see where it takes me. (Still playing? Pick a suggestion, apply it to your dilemma, and write your little heart out with me!)

The sun beats down on my tiny plot of green. Only it’s not green. It’s brown. Baked. Rimmed with twigs and sticks that used to be shrubs—and punctuated by a few upright posts that once were magnolia trees. Clearly, my yard has been sabotaged. I believe someone comes every night and pours acid into the soil. But why? What have I done to deserve this? I’m such a good neighbor! I pick up bits of paper left behind by the recycling guys. I pat all the dogs and coo at the babies. I even pay my HOA bill on time.

Still, it’s obvious. I have an enemy. And a clever one. One who knows that all I want is green and quiet and shade to meet me when I walk out my front door. One who wants me to be miserable for some reason. One who wants me to put my house on the market and move out . . . so they can move in?

Yes, that’s it! One of my neighbors covets my little sun-baked house and yard. But who could it be? Lorraine, three doors down? I’ve noticed her squinting proprietarily at my place when she walks to the mailbox. Her son recently lost his apartment. Could Lorraine have her eye on my house for Matthew?

Or maybe it’s Kevin. A) Kevin hates cats—and I feed the ferals in our ‘hood. B) Kevin’s own house is lopsided. (And who knows what else is wrong with it.) Maybe Kevin wants to walk away from his crooked little abode and set up housekeeping in mine, which, while unfortunate in its orientation to the sun, does at least sit evenly on its haunches.

Oh! No! I’ve got it! It’s Angela!! I wouldn’t buy Girl Scout cookies from her bratty little Missy, and this is payback! Plus, my kitchen is twice the size of hers, so if she forces me out, she’ll have room to set up her own cookie-baking operation (or meth lab; I have my suspicions about Angela) and give the Scouts a run for their money!

* * *

So. How did that go for you?

For my part, while I have yet to resolve my desert-yard problem, I did have a lot of fun. And I could imagine continuing forward from here with A) a mystery about a woman who is actually the target of neighborhood sabotage, or B) a drama about a woman drifting into clinical paranoia, or C) a psychological thriller about a woman who is both clinically paranoid AND the target of sabotage!

The larger point, however, is that I wrote something quite different than I usually would have (if I’d written at all!) because I was dragged so far from my typical literary course by Elbow’s suggestion my brain had to leap a hundred hurdles-worth of synapses just to begin.

For that, and so much more, I am grateful to Peter Elbow, whose own struggles with writing resulted in him finding around-the-back hacks to get (more! fresher!) words on the page every time.

Writing Prompt: A Rose by Any Other Name

November 29, 2015

WHEN I WAS A KID—six years old—I had a classmate named “Frederika.” A fine name, my six-year-old self thought, and, promptly, I renamed myself for her (although my parents never quite caught up). Then, at twelve, I first heard the name “Zoë.” That was it! A perfect name for me. But, again, my parents wouldn’t sign on, and the Zoë I could have been died an unremarked death.

When I was sixteen, I named myself “Star,” and faithfully penned a red-Bic star onto my forehead every day for a year. This was a slightly more successful renaming. (In fact, having now returned to the town where I endured teen-hood, occasionally, I run into someone who greets me with a “Hi, Star! It’s been a while!”)

At nineteen, after watching SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER for the thirteenth time, I adopted a new last name: “Mangano,” in honor of John Travolta’s social-climbing love interest, Stephanie Mangano. (And, okay, although I’m a little embarrassed to admit to it, I was known as MJM by my closest friends for a few years after, for “Marvelous Jamie Mangano.” What can I say? I was young and the actual requirements of being truly marvelous in this world were still a mystery to me.)

In an earlier blog post, I talked about POEMCRAZY, in which author Susan Wooldridge discusses the act of renaming as a way to resuscitate some aspect of ourselves that may be starved for oxygen. “New names seem to change people,” she says.

In the POEMCRAZY chapter “Our Real Names,” Ronnie, a young man in juvenile hall renames himself, thusly:

Let’s talk about death.
Yesterday my name was James.
Today, it’s tossing helium dream.
Tomorrow, my name will be
Gerald Flying off the Cliff,
Dave Mustang.
Inside my name is
dying heart,
sorrow
guilt
and a lotta hope.

My parents named me for a racehorse, Jamie K., who gave Native Dancer a run for his money in the Preakness and the Belmont a few years before I was born. This naming, perhaps, explains my early interest in horses—in a family in which no one else has ever ridden or owned a horse. And while that’s a fun story, and “Jamie” is a perfectly acceptable name, I have always wondered…. If I had lived my life as a Frederika or a Zoë—or even as a Grace or a Claire—would I have experienced the world differently?

I guess I’ll never know. Because, ultimately—unlike actress Sigourney Weaver, who, born “Susan Alexandra Weaver,” renamed herself, at the age of fourteen, after a minor character (Sigourney Howard) in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel THE GREAT GATSBY—I let the name I was given harden around me. Until, now, it’s hard to tell where my name ends and I begin.

Writing prompt

How about you? What secret names do you have hidden in the roll-call of your deepest self? Make a list of them! Next, write out a pivotal scene from your life as you remember living it. Finally, take one of your secret names and begin a third-person account of the same situation, starring someone who bears a strong resemblance to you, but who answers to the name you chose. Allow the scene to deviate from the one you remember—and allow your other-named self to experience a different outcome.

Writing Prompt: Singing the Blues

November 5, 2015

IN HONOR OF THAT OTHER AMERICAN tradition, join me and make a list of your current woes. Together, we can sing the blues! (I know. This runs counter to the most fundamental of Thanksgiving philosophies—but once we’ve purged our troubles, I’m betting we’ll be better-primed to list our blessings come November 26th!)

Writing prompt

So, we’ll start by creating our lists. Go ahead and jot down your current afflictions—as many or as few as you choose. Here’s my short list:

My BFF from wild-childhood just turned 60. Which means—guess what—I’m not far behind.
According to my periodontist (my relationship with whom is, in itself, worthy material for a blues song), I’m gearing up for a third gum graft.
If you look closely enough (and please don’t) you can see that my hair is thinning at the part.

Okay, now let’s turn our blues into blues LYRICS!

12-bar blues lyrics are pretty simple: The basic verse pattern is AAB, AAB, AAB . . . for as long as you’ve got something to sing about. All three lines of each verse rhyme—and the first two lines of each verse are (almost) identical. Oh! And don’t forget to give your song an awesomely pitiful title. Here’s mine:

The Not Getting Any Younger Blues

A. My ol’ best friend’s gone way past the halfway point
A. Yeah, my ol’ best friend’s gone way past life’s halfway point
B. Now, I’m shuffling along just a step behind her, hard of hearing and creaky of joint

A. My ol’ periodontist, he’s tellin’ me my gums are too thin
A. Yeah, my ol’ periodontist’s sayin’ my pink ol’ gums are thin
B. I gotta lay back in his chair again an’ let him patch some roof-of-my-mouth skin back in

A. My good ol’ hair’s thinner now than when I was young and fine
A. Oh, my good ol’ hair’s thinner than when I was young and fine
B. So I’m doin’ a swoop-di-doop comb-over just to cover up the ever-widening line

A. My ol’ best friend’s gone way past the halfway point
A. Yeah, my ol’ best friend’s gone way past life’s halfway point
B. I’m just shuffling along, hard of hearing, creaky of joint, and only one step behind

* * *

If you’ve shuffled along this far with me, and want to learn more about the blues, check out PBS’s Blues Classroom and Danny Chicago’s “How to Write the Blues”!

Writing Prompt: I Spy

October 5, 2015

REMEMBER WHEN YOU WERE A KID and bored to tears at Hour Three of the eight-hour car ride to your grandparents’ house (pre-video games), and your mom would distract you with a game of I Spy? (“I spy with my little eye something beginning with the letter ‘D,'” you might say, hoping your parents would get the hint and pull over for Dairy Queen.)

Today, as writers, we can still play I Spy—only “backwards,” looking around our world (or the world of our characters) seeking objects that start with a certain letter or display a certain color or are made of a certain material (“I spy with my little eye something made of glass”). Why would we do this? Because we (and our characters) are pattern-seeking missiles—and focusing our pattern-making super-powers upon something as specific as “things starting with the letter ‘P'” can set a whole sweater’s-worth of associations unraveling.

Writing prompt

For example: “I spy with my little eye something blue.” When I glance around my office, I see . . .

My business card . . .
My mouse pad . . .
The top of a Bic ballpoint pen . . .
The mat inside the frame of my college diploma!

Aha! That’s it.

When I finally graduated from Rollins College, my dad was so proud (or was that “relieved”?) he took me to the frame store and had my diploma framed. That same day—and this only a year before he died—we also stopped by the eyeglass shop to have his sunglasses repaired, ate bagels and scrambled eggs at Einsteins, and walked over to the drugstore to pick up his prescription.

That was one of the last “normal” days I had with my dad. He’d been sick—and then better, and then sick again—for several years. I haven’t thought of that visit recently, and have certainly never written about it. Maybe now I will.

So. What do you spy? And where does it take you?

Tarot Writing Prompt: Impressionists Tarot

September 1, 2015

Q. HOW IS A TAROT REVIEW LIKE A WRITING PROMPT?
A. Read on!

I liked the IMPRESSIONISTS TAROT so much, I let my inner fan girl loose to write the Amazon review, below.

Wonderful, moody, readable deck

I just got a new Lo Scarabeo deck, the IMPRESSIONISTS TAROT, by Corrine Kenner, art by Arturo Picca. I loved the images I saw, so despite having been disappointed in several recent Lo Scarabeo purchases, I went ahead and bought the IMPRESSIONIST TAROT KIT.

OMG! I really love it! The images are not appropriated directly from Impressionist paintings. That is to say, they are not prints of original paintings. Rather, Picca has either painted copies of the originals, adding minor adjustments to make them tarot-appropriate, or he’s used the artists’ styles and borrowed aspects of specific paintings as inspiration for his original work.

The KIT (not the deck-only option, as it was first released) includes a WONDERFUL companion book by Corrine Kenner, in which she discusses the artists whose particular works/styles the card images are based upon.

Overall, it feels like a moody, emotional deck to me. One Amazon reviewer complained about the card stock, but while it is thin, it doesn’t seem problematic to me (and I’m quick to hate bad stock). Another reviewer mentioned the colors, saying they seemed muddier than they associate with Impressionism. And I have to say, there is a less-than-bright quality to the colors, notable, since the Impressionists were known for being “painters of light.” (However, since originally writing this review, I got a second copy of this kit, and the printing was distinctly brighter and sharper in the newer version. Hmm.)

As always, my aging eyes wish the images were larger. And while the borders are quite visually impactful (they’re created to look like museum frames), I think they serve the artwork well, rather than distracting from the card art, too much. Finally, the card backs, which look like the back of a framed painting, are fabulous!

Tarot writing prompt

But what about you? Is there a book you love (or loathe)? A film? A writing product (lap desk, editing program, particularly awesome pen)? If so, shout out your appreciation (or criticism) in a good, old-fashioned, online review. It’s a fine way to hone your persuasive writing skills. Plus, it’s always fun to see your name in—well—pixels.

Writing Prompt: ICAD at Daisy Yellow!

June 3, 2015

SINCE JUNE FIRST, EVERY EVENING, after all the rest of the world is (reasonably) quiet, I sit at my art-making table, pull the next blank index card from a pile numbered 1-61, review the ICAD prompt, and start making something.

The brainchild of Daisy Yellow’s Tammy Garcia, ICAD, which stands for “Index Card a Day,” is a two-month challenge—complete with an awesome online community for encouragment and inspiration. The idea is simple; the practice, challenging. Starting June 1st, create something—anything!—on a 3×5″ index card, then lather, rinse, repeat—every day for 61 days. Missed the starting gun? With Tammy’s blessings, whatever day you start is your own ICAD #1. Just number 61 index cards and have at it.

Not sure what to do? That’s part of the fun! Each day you face a teeny, tiny blank page. As Tammy says, Anything goes. Make flash cards to teach yourself Russian. Paint with acrylic paints. Drip india ink. Dye with espresso. Practice origami folds. Stitch. Sketch. Doodle. Stamp. Collage. Cut up, then weave the pieces back together. Write Haiku poems. Document your paint collection. Just dig in, using what you have and having fun!

When I asked Tammy about writers participating, she said, “Writers are welcome to join the ICAD challenge; it is a creativity challenge rather than an art challenge.” So if you don’t want to make visual art, use the daily prompts for character development, free-writing, or poem-making.

Writing Prompt

Get yourself an index card (or 61!), then visit one of the links in this post and find an image or a prompt to kick-start a teeny, tiny work of awesome.

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