Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Monthly Writing Challenge 3/12: The Prettiest Thing



Tiffany Clutter’s submission:

I wake up to giggles in my ear and a foot on my face,
Baby the prettiest thing I see is you.
Soft skin, and a warm embrace,
Baby the prettiest thing I see is you.
Marathon nursing sessions and long night hours,
Baby the prettiest thing I see is you.
Through the ups and downs, smiles and frowns you make my every day. 
From the bottom of my heart, till my breath stops,
Baby the prettiest thing is see is you.


My submission:
Initially, your looks deceive me. They trick my eyes and fool my heart. I am not the only one who falls for pretty things. The others, they gush over you and admire your beauty. The prettiest thing they have ever seen, they say.
My head knows better. Your beauty isn’t of substance. Your outer shell leaves me breathless with attraction, yet I know what lies beneath.
I avert my eyes from you and let my heart do the looking. Without your charming exterior the foulness that is at your core is screamingly obvious.
Now that I have seen you- truly seen beyond your stunning and infatuation appearance- I can say that you are not the prettiest thing. I can tell my heart no to dwell. You’re hardly worth a second glance. My search for true beauty continues.

Please link up at the bottom with your take on 'The Prettiest Thing'.

Next month's writing challenge topic will be: In Love. Please send submissions to tellvivien@yahoo.com by 01/12/2012 or link up at the beginning of next month.

Monday, October 15, 2012

A Week Without Facebook


If you know me, then you know that I am a complete and utter Facebook addict. I can’t help myself- I just love reading about others and feeling like I have someone other than my kids to communicate with. The only problem is that my addiction was starting to take on ridiculous proportions and I found myself checking my page every 15 minutes all day long. Not so cool. Especially since the companionship I was looking for was usually nowhere to be found.
Therefore, I bravely decided to go cold-turkey and disable my Facebook account for a week. One week without Facebook. I could have just logged off, but I know I would have cheated and secretly snuck a peek now and again.
It was rough. The first day felt really lonely and I didn’t quite know what to do with myself (sad, huh?) However, the week proved to be extremely productive. Here are some of the things that happened:
·         I got featured on BlogHer. Ok, this is not something I actively did, but it was still cool. And it was also horrible because I REALLY wanted to share the link on Facebook to get some support, but I stayed strong.
·         I looked at my iPhone a lot, wondering what other purposes it might possibly serve.
·         I hung out with my friend and watched Jersey Shore while eating gluten free cookies. It was fantastic!
·         I read half of a very interesting book.
·         I read up on things I have been trying to avoid, such as SEO, etc. and freelance work.
·         I was offered a job on Thursday, then another on Friday, and had to decide between the two. Tomorrow is my first day at my new job. I have to work 40 hours per week and leave the kids at home with daddy. It’s breaking my heart, but until we win the lottery (which is rather unlikely as we do not play) I have to bring in some extra $$$. At least until I start earning the big bucks writing.
·         I went out for a wonderful dinner with my fabulous friend- just the two of us.
·         I talked to almost all of my friends in Europe, which felt great.
·         I took part in the Nurture Photography Fall Challenge.
·         I completed week eight of couch to 5k, which meant walking 5 minutes, then jogging 28 minutes, then walking 5 minutes.
·         I gathered some writing ideas and creative ideas and just overall let my brain do its weird thing.

There you have it. I missed Facebook a lot, but I also feel that being away helped me to refocus and be more creative.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Monthly Writing Challenge 2/12: A Feminist Fairytale

Megan Douthitt's submission:


Feminist Fairytale - Cinderella

I assume we’re all familiar with Cinderella...overworked and underappreciated by her evil stepmother and stepsisters, surprisingly cheerful, soft spot for rodents. Instead of retelling the entire tale, let’s jump to the end for a reimagined, less gag-inducing version.

    Upon arriving at the ball, Cinderella descended the grand staircase into the ballroom, where she was greeted by the backsides of hundreds of other eligible maidens all vying for the attention of the prince. Well, they can have him, she thought. I’m finally out of that dreadful house and preening for the attention of a pompous, soft-handed royal is not my idea of fun.
    As she skirted the edges of the ballroom, she noticed a group of young men off to the side, openly staring at the maidens and choosing which of the prince’s cast-offs to approach. Barbaric ritual, she inwardly muttered.
    Finally, she spotted the man she was seeking. He was short, rotund, balding, and stank of stale wine. He was an unforgettable man, to be sure.
    “Excuse me, sir. I believe we’ve met.”
    The Grand Duke was so astonished at being approached by a lovely young lady that it took him a few minutes to place her.
    “Cinderella?”
“One and the same, Duke.”
“My goodness, I don’t believe I’ve seen you since your father’s funeral, years ago. What a lovely surprise. You know, as I was leaving the graveyard that day, your stepmother told me of your decision to stay with your aunt overseas. What brings you back?”
    “Well, sir, my stepmother lied. Actually, I am here tonight under extremely lucky circumstances after my stepmother made it quite impossible for me to attend otherwise. I never went overseas; I’ve been here all along, forced to act as servant to my stepmother and her wretched daughters. To be honest, I have been essentially enslaved and haven’t left that awful house in years.”
    “My dear, how dreadful! What can I do to help?”
    “There are two things I’d like to ask of you, if it isn’t too much trouble. I have written a letter to the magistrate requesting an opportunity to present my case and lay claim to my rightful inheritance. I would like you deliver it for me, and I would also ask that you bear witness to my identity as my stepmother has destroyed my personal documents,” said Cinderella.
    “Why, those requests won’t be any trouble at all, dear. But, really, you needn't go to all that trouble. My wife and I would be happy to offer you our home. That is, until you find a husband. Now that you’ll be back in society, I’m sure it won’t be long at all until some lad takes you to wife!”
    “If it is all the same to you sir, I’d like to proceed with the magistrate. I have sorely missed my independence these past few years, so I have no intention of marrying any time soon. In fact, I have one thing to thank my stepmother for, believe it or not. I have become quite an accomplished seamstress trying to meet her insatiable desire for new gowns, and I’ve found that I quite enjoy the work.”
    “A seamstress? You must be joking, Cinderella!”
    “I assure you, Duke, I am not. I intend to use my inheritance to set up my own shop. Should I decide to marry, it will be to a man who is comfortable with an entrepreneur as a wife. I simply cannot imagine going back to a life of vanity, idleness, and tedium after experiencing the satisfaction of accomplishing something each day. Though I thank you very much for your kind offer, all the same.”
    The Grand Duke was surprised, but rather impressed with his old friend’s daughter. He had never met a girl quite like her before, and it was a refreshing change from the simpering gossip-parrots his son paraded around town.
    The clock began to strike midnight and Cinderella realized her time at the ball was ending. She quickly handed the Grand Duke her letter for the magistrate, thanked him, and dashed for the stairs. In her haste to return to return to her carriage, she lost a glass slipper on the staircase, but paid it no mind as she fully expected it to disappear along with the beautiful gown, just as her fairy godmother said they would.
    Cinderella returned home full of excitement for her future. She finally had a way to fulfill her dreams, and she was going to achieve them on her own. She settled back into her servant routine with a new spring in her step, knowing that it was only a matter of days until the Grand Duke would arrive to escort her to the magistrate for her appointment. I cannot wait to see the look on Stepmother’s face when I walk out the front door, she thought.
    It turned out that she was wrong about the glass slipper. Though the rest of the magic vanished at the last stroke of midnight, the glass slipper remained, and Cinderella cherished it as a reminder of the night she chose her own path.  



Carrie Gaiuque's submission:


                Once upon a time, there were three little girl pigs. Now these three little pigs were tormented by a Big Bad Wolf. Every day the Big Bad Wolf would come and huff, and puff and try to blow their self-esteem down. He would wolf whistle as they walked by and make derogatory comments. The three little pigs decided to defend themselves against the attacks of the Big Bad Wolf.
                The first little piggy hadn’t been taught by her mother to believe in herself, and instead she saw everyone around her trying to gain the attention of the Big Bad Wolf to try to make themselves feel pretty. The first little piggy made herself a dress of straw colored material which was very revealing and left nothing to the imagination. As she walked by the Big Bad Wolf, he huffed and he puffed and he whistled and hooted, and blew down her self-esteem. The first little piggy ran home crying.
                The second little piggy had been taught by her mother that you must prove your worth to others, and so the second little piggy believed she had to win awards to make herself feel smart. She made a car of sticks, which was a unique material and very eco-conscious and entered her design into the science fair. As she drove by the Big Bad Wolf, he huffed and he puffed and he called her design crap, and he blew down her self-esteem. The second little piggy ran home crying.
                Now the third little piggy had been taught by her mother that she was important and special, but that her actions toward others are what truly made her a good person. So the third little piggy built a community center out of brick where everyone could gather to do service for others or meet as groups and build their confidence. The Big Bad Wolf walked by and he huffed and he puffed, he whistled and hooted, and he called everything crap. But no one heard him inside and the little piggies never went home crying again.



My submission:



Rapunzel


Picture by Dydydada, stock.xchng

Once upon a time, there was a married couple who wished with all their hearts that they may be blessed with a baby. They hoped and prayed and after many years the wife finally became pregnant. She often looked out of their window into the adjacent garden because it was full of the most beautiful flowers, herbs, and vegetables. One day she started developing a strong craving for the Rapuzel lettuce that grew next door.
But the garden belonged to a very powerful witch. She was renowned for her might and feared the world over. The witch treasured her garden, which was surrounded by a very high wall to protect it from unwanted guests.
The wife’s longing for the Rapunzel became so strong that she stopped eating everything else and slowly started withering away. One evening, the husband noticed how pale and sickly his wife looked. He asked: “My dear, is everything alright? You look terrible! Is there anything I can do?” The wife replied: “Oh, I have such a terrible desire to eat the witch’s Rapunzel. It is keeping me from eating anything else and has been occupying my thoughts for weeks.” The husband thought for a while, then replied: “I hate to see you so ill. I will get you some of the Rapunzel tonight.”
The husband waited until night had fallen and dressed himself in black clothing, so that he would not be seen. Just as he was about to climb out of their window into the garden, the wife caught sight of what he was doing. “What on earth are you doing?” she exclaimed. The husband explained his plan to sneak into the garden and steal some of the witch’s Rapunzel. Though the wife greatly feared the mighty witch, she also had a high respect of her neighbor. She said: “My dearest husband, I am so happy that you love me so much that you would steal for me. However, I would never forgive myself for such a crime and must ask you to please abort your plan.” The husband was relieved, yet worried about his wife, and asked: “But darling, how else will you eat the Rapunzel your body so desperately wants? I am worried for you and our baby.” The wife replied: “Do not worry, my dear. I will find a way.”
The following day, the wife gathered all her courage and knocked on the witch’s door. Though they had been neighbors for over a decade, they had never spoken to each other. The witch opened the door with a surprised look on her face: “Yes, may I help you?” The wife smiled and said: “I am so sorry to bother you. I am your next door neighbor, Emily. My husband Joshua and I are expecting a baby. Unfortunately, I have been fighting a terrible pregnancy craving for your beautiful Rapunzel lettuce. Would it be at all possible for me to have some, please? I understand if you say ‘no’, but I had to ask.” The witch, who was about the same age as the wife, stood in silence for a minute. Finally, she replied: “It is so nice to meet you, Emily. I have had terrible trouble with people stealing from my garden. I am so glad you came to ask instead of just taking- I swore that the next person I caught would be very sorry indeed! Won’t you come in?”
The witch and Emily sat together and chatted for a long time. Being a very wise and knowledgeable woman, the witch suspected that Emily’s craving was triggered by a mineral deficiency. Before the wife returned home, the witch mixed her a potion to restore the mineral balance in her pregnant body and picked her enough Rapunzel to last her at least a week.
The cravings soon subsided and Emily had a joy filled pregnancy. She visited her neighbor daily and they became good friends. The witch had always longed for a real friend and was so happy to have someone to talk to.
When the wife went into labor, the husband finally overcame his fear and ran next door to get the witch. He hoped that she would be able to assist them during the birth of their baby. The witch was a great help and the couple had a wonderful birth experience. Emily gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, whom they named Rapunzel in honor of the wonderful friendship that had grown thanks to the craving for lettuce. The witch became Rapunzel’s godmother and protected her with all that she had. Rapunzel learned many wonderful things from her godmother and grew into a confident, empowered young woman.
And they all lived happily ever after.
The End.


Please link up at the bottom with your take on 'a feminist fairytale'.

Next month's
Writing Challenge topic will be: the prettiest thing. Please send submissions to tellvivien@yahoo.com by 11/01/2012 or link up at the beginning of next month.




Monday, September 17, 2012

Feminist Fairytales: Little Red Riding Hood

Fairytales irritate me terribly. Most of the classics portray women as naïve idiots, not worth mentioning unless they are beautiful or evil. I would love my daughter to grow up with stories that feature powerful, intelligent women, so she can have role models that have actually achieved something besides looking pretty.
My goal is to re-write some of the classics and change the story around to what it would be if the heroines were smart and strong. Unfortunately, a lot of the stories would be incredibly short, but I’ll do my best to make them a little humorous. And if you feel like writing your own little feminist fairytale, please join me for my Monthly Writing Challenge!

Photo by jkettn, stock.xchng

Once upon a time, there was a sweet little girl who lived with her mother on the edge of a forest. Her name was Little Red Riding Hood. Hood’s grandmother was very ill, so she and her mother decided to bake a cake for the poor granny. After they finished the cake, they gathered some other treats together- wine, chocolate, and some sandwiches- so Hood could deliver them to her granny who lived a couple of miles away in the woods.
“Now, sweetie, don’t forget to stay on the path. You never want to get off the path when you’re in the forest! And watch out for the Big Bad Wolf. Remember what I told you about him- he’s a tricky one with big ears and a big nose, etc. Just overall big with lots of hair. If he bothers you, you know what to do.”
“Mother, I wish you didn’t worry so much. I will go straight to granny’s house.”
Off went Little Hood into the deep, dark forest. She was enjoying the exercise, singing to herself and admiring the scenery. Suddenly, she saw the shape of someone up ahead on the path. She prepared herself.
“Hello, little girl! Where are you going to all by yourself?”
“I am going to visit my grandmother to bring her some goodies. She hasn’t been feeling well.”
“Ah, how interesting. Where exactly does your grandmother live?”
“She lives right down this path in the clearing.”
“Little girl, I think you should take your time on this beautiful day and enjoy the forest. Look down there, off the path: there are so many beautiful flowers to pick. Maybe you could even make a bouquet for your grandmother”, suggested the wolf, who was coming up with a plan that would allow him to eat the grandmother as well as Little Hood.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wolf, but I have no time to lose. I do not wish to go off the path and really must continue my journey now.”
The wolf sneered at her: “Well, in that case, I’m just going to have to gobble you up!”
Little Red Riding Hood, without batting an eye, put down the basket of goodies, pulled out her sword and chopped the wolf’s head off. Hood’s mother had taught her how to defend herself from an early age.
She continued down the path to her granny’s house, who was overjoyed to see her lovely granddaughter. They enjoyed cake together while they chatted. After granny had had some wine and chocolate, she felt much better and went out to find the wolf’s corpse. She skinned him and made a nice rug for her sitting room.
And they all lived happily ever after.
The End.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

What Would You Do if You Had One Month to Live?


I’ve been visiting an Episcopal church lately and I just love the priest! (sorry, I’m Catholic and I have no idea if that is the correct term; Protestantism tends to confuse me…) He’s funny and entertaining and genuine. This past Sunday, he started a four week series called ‘One Month to Live’. He asked all of us what we would do if we knew we only had one more month to live.
It has kept me thinking ever since. What would I do? Honestly, I don’t have too many classic bucket list items. I’ve done pretty much everything I’ve wanted to, except maybe some travel that I haven’t gotten around to yet. Things like bungee jumping or climbing mountains don’t really interest me.
I think the first thing I would do is buy some cigarettes and start smoking again. I quit four years ago, but I would definitely not have quit if there weren’t bad consequences to my health. If I only had a month left, it wouldn’t matter whether smoking is bad for me or not.
On my very last day, I would try heroin. You’re probably all shocked now, but I hear that it’s the best drug-induced feeling you can have and I would give it a try if I knew it was my last day on earth.
I would write a book. Something I have always wanted to do, something that I have many ideas for, but have so far not been able to get myself to start. It would be hand-written because I actually much prefer that.
I would sleep in just one more time. I wouldn’t want to waste much of my numbered hours sleeping, but since I haven’t really slept a full night in about three and a half years, I would just love the luxury of one night of fantastically restful sleep.
Every last day would be spent with my children. I would take them with me and travel around the world to visit every single person I love so I could say my good-byes. Of course, my priority would be to see all my family.
Most importantly, I would be completely honest about who I am. No more social anxieties, no more holding back my beliefs or emotions. I would spend my last energy on loving everyone with all my might and to make sure that they knew how much they were loved. Nobody would have any doubts about who I really was or how I felt about them.
The priest didn’t ask his congregation to do this little exercise just for fun. Life is short. We should all be living life as if we only had one month left. Because none of us know how much time we still have here- it could be a century, a decade, a year, a month, a day, or even just one more minute. We so easily get distracted by every day life that we lose sight of what is really important.
Naturally, I can’t go nuts and start smoking and doing heroin because I might *possibly* die soon. And I can’t afford to fly around the world with the kids just in case. Those kinds of things are reserved for true end of life scenarios. However, what is stopping me from being who I really am? Why can’t I be the most loving I can possibly be right now? The answer is simple: nothing is stopping me but myself.
“Time doesn’t fly, but it steadily ticks away.”
What would you do if you had only one more month to live?

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

My Monthly Writing Challenge

I love challenges. Lots of people do weekly or monthly photo challenges and benefit from them because they force one to practice and improve their skills. I’ve decided that I really need to do a writing challenge. And because I love you all and I hate doing things alone, I would like to involve all of you!
I’ve tried hosting things before and have been painfully unsuccessful. However, I am reluctant to admit defeat and am giving this one last try. For the next year, I will be posting monthly writing challenges.
Anyone is welcome to participate. You can either email me your submission to tellvivien@yahoo.com or you can link up at the bottom of each post. Submissions can be made anonymously, if you wish.
On the first of each month (or the second, if there is some reason the first doesn’t work), I will be publishing my own piece of writing along with all of the submissions I received, in the order I received them in. I will also be posting the theme for the next challenge.
Doesn’t this sound fun? I think so! Now go and write something! It can be anything you want- fiction or non, poetry, short stories, etc. I just want people to get creative and put some words on paper (or a screen, in this case)
The theme for the first challenge is: Something Green.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The Blog Post I Took Down

I decided to take the blog post I wrote last night off of the blog. I had somehow imagined that speaking openly about a bad time in my life would make me feel better. However, instead, the thought of having everyone know about things that happened to me many years ago that not even my family members know about had me tossing and turning all night with anxiety and guilt. I have no explanation for these feelings, but there they were.
Some skeletons are better left in the closet, it seems. I apologize for any confusion and I thank all of you who commented and sent me messages. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me or see me as a victim. I had some bad things happen to me, but I came out on the other side and though it is part of my past, it is not the person I am today. I am by no means an innocent person- I have done my share of wrongs in the past and have hurt many people.
So forgive me for taking the post down. I am in the process of experimenting with this blog and seeing what I am comfortable exposing. Last night’s story was not something I wanted to continue sharing and I have learned from it. Thank you for understanding!

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Sunday Blog Hop: The 30 Word Story

I just remembered that I wrote something for a writing contest a while back that I never ended up submitting. The challenge was to tell a story in exactly 30 words.
So then I just had the fabulous idea of making it a blog hop! Blogger friends, do any of you feel like writing a story- it can be about anything and everything you want- in precisely 30 words? If so, please link up below.
Here is mine. Let’s call it “Motherhood”

She bore him of her womb. She fed him from her breasts. She clothed him, kept him warm. She taught him. She loved him. He left. She was utterly alone.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

My Memories of 09/11/2001

It started off as just another day. I actually don’t even remember much of the morning, so it must have gone by without any significant events. At the time, I was still living in Germany and preparing for my move to the US that was supposed to take place in five days. I was staying with my parents- my then husband had already flown to the states. My brothers and I were having lunch. We were watching an episode of Seinfeld on video. One of my brothers had to use the bathroom, so I paused the tape. He told me not to bother waiting for him, but I figured I would briefly check the news.
There it was. One of the World Trade Center towers was burning. At first, it was just a breaking news flash, then it turned to full coverage. Everybody seemed confused. There were people everywhere in the streets just looking up in astonishment. A few eye witnesses reported seeing a plane crashing into the building. It was very strange, thinking a plane could have flown into the tower. People were speculating on how this accident could have happened.
For some reason, I was immediately panic stricken. I called my father at work, crying. He told me not to worry, that it was very probably human error. Maybe a glitch in the air traffic control. I told him that I was afraid the tower might collapse. My father assured me they were built to withstand practically everything.
I continued to watch the news in shock, praying for all the poor people who were trapped in the fire. Surely most would be rescued soon. Suddenly, there was what looked like an explosion in the second tower. Was it caused by the fire in the other tower? Was there a bomb? The camera angle wouldn’t let us see what had happened. But very shortly we saw- a second plane had crashed into the other tower. What was happening? How could this be?
I called my father again, beside myself. He tried to calm me down, still suspecting a glitch somewhere. He must not have been willing to believe that someone could be doing such things on purpose… I was crying hard. I was praying hard. Then the news went crazy- there were reports of dozens of planes missing, possibly hijacked. The American sky was suddenly full of enemies. There was speculation as to the next target. Nobody had to speculate long- the Pentagon was hit. A fourth airplane crashed to the ground in Pennsylvania.
I called my husband in the states. He was angry at me for waking him and couldn’t understand why I was upset. He went back to bed.
We stared at the television in disbelief. There were two burning towers in front of us, full of people who had gotten up in the morning to go to work, expecting just another day. I remember papers flying everywhere. Millions of pieces of paper floating through the air. And smoke. Thick, suffocating smoke that could be seen for miles on the sunny clear day. Human beings started jumping out of the buildings. It was impossible to watch. What scenes must have gone on in the buildings that jumping out was the preferable solution…
Honestly, I still had hope. Though I feared the towers would collapse, I thought that there must be some way of getting everyone out safely. Where were the helicopters, I wondered. There must be a whole fleet of helicopters ready to rescue people. Of course, that was a childish illusion. No helicopters ever came.
My husband called me back and apologized for not having understood the severity of the situation earlier. Since he was in the Army, he was ready to report if necessary.
It was my farewell party at work. Even though my husband had asked me not to go, I felt I needed to get out of the house. I had bought pretzels and drinks for everyone, surely I couldn’t let them go to waste. In a daze, I walked to the bus stop and got on the bus. The people on the bus didn’t know yet. Their world was still normal. The entire trip there, I felt like screaming at them, warning them of what they were about to find out. America had been attacked! And nothing was the same anymore.
I entered the stock exchange. The usually bustling lobby was still, the giant screens full of news broadcasts. Everyone was staring, speechless. The first tower fell.
I made my way up to the office. Everyone was surprised to see me. Why had I come there during this tragedy, with pretzels and drinks? They all hugged me. Sorry for me because this was supposed to be my new home in a few days and it was burning. We stayed in the office together in silence, watching the news. The second tower fell. I collapsed into a chair. It was more than I could take in. Everyone was crying. Then we were evacuated. The stock exchange wasn’t safe- nowhere was safe anymore.
I don’t remember much of the rest of the day. It was all news, every waking moment. More facts were found out. More pictures were shown. People covered in dust, injured. People running in the streets, running for their lives. Beautiful sunshine with thick clouds of death. A gaping hole in New York. Rescue efforts and a few survivors. The severity of it was impossible to digest.
Honestly, I don’t remember the next few days. I said good-bye to everyone I loved and got on the first flight from Frankfurt to Atlanta after the catastrophe. The sense of doom and dread was deep inside of me. I didn’t want to go anymore, wanted to call the whole thing off. But I couldn’t.     
11 September 2001 saw the end of so many precious lives and the world changed forever. It was also the end of my life as I knew it. I didn’t see the sun shine for a very long time afterwards.