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Why I Write
When I write, I draw on my experiences as a woman with a painful past, a rapturous wife and mother, a world traveler, and a spiritualist. For me, writing is an art form. Like an artist, the work becomes more than I imagined it would be. When I set out to write a story with a particular idea or character in mind, words I cannot claim as my own flow from a magical and mysterious place through me and onto paper. The work takes on a life of its own; it is living art. The process fascinates me, satiates me, and makes my life more meaningful.
Please read my stories! If you would like to offer me feedback on my work, please click here and sign up for a free membership: https://heftynicki.Writing.com
I hope to see you there!
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Blog, Blog, Blog #722346 added April 15, 2011 at 6:04pm
Restrictions: None
'M' is for...?
This week is crazy and I have been writing like a fiend. Fun! Yesterday's word. It was 'Lust.'
Today, guess which 'M' emotion/feeling/state of mind I've depicted in the short fictional passage below. My cyber-BFF Jessica Bell is using the same prompt word for a passage of her own.
Here is my 'M' entry:
Stacy Johnson’s mouth dropped open as she exited the car. From her vantage point on the make-shift parking lot, it looked like total mayhem had broken out on the sweeping front lawn of the middle school. Children ran after each other in every direction, some in packs of four or five. Many looked wet. Their shrill laughter rose and fell like waves in the heavy breeze.
Stacy headed for the groups of parent onlookers. As she drew closer, she noticed the there was some order to the craziness. On the ground at the center of the lawn was a large fifteen-foot-across circle of neon pink plastic tubing. The children inside the circle chased each other with shaving cream, managing to always stay within the perimeter. Mr. Mathis, the gym teacher, supervised the antics, and offered water balloons to kids without cans of shaving cream. Everyone was a sopping mess!
Outside the pink circle, the rest of the kids raced around, jumping rope, running sack races, playing catch, turning cartwheels. I caught glimpses of teachers joining in the fun while guiding the activities best they could. When a whistle blew, the inner circle kids raced out and a fresh, dry batch of children took their places.
A parent noticed Stacy’s look of confused awe. “Haven’t you been to Field Day before?” she asked. When Stacy shook her head, she went on. “The teachers call it ‘controlled chaos.’ The kids just call it ‘fun’!”
“I call it ‘m--’” Stacy was stunned into silence. A stray water balloon had exploded on her shoulder.
Any guesses? Hope you all have a wonderful Friday!
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