Welcome back, my dearest poets and
storytellers! Did you enjoy your break? Did you take a break? Since I did a
considerable amount of lurking around your cyber-homes, I know many of you just
kept the words brewing into being—don’t feel too bad, I couldn’t take a real
break either. I spent the last days of December 2020 and the first days of
January 2021 reading (Soulless by
Gail Carriger, Dawn by Octavia E. Butler, The Sun and Her Flowers
by Rupi Kaur,Hope Rides Again by Andrew Shaffer…) and rewriting my own work (I took a page out of Chrissa’s book,
and decided that 2021 would be a year for “finishing drafts”).
Did you read
anything interesting while we were on “break”? Have you made any writing plans
for 2021? Go ahead, tell us… we are listening (and reading, of
course).
Now, while the
topic of looking back and writing forward is still dancing in our minds, let me invite
you to revisit our 2020 Weekly Scribblings selection, and write new poetry
or prose using one of our old prompts. Please add the title (and link, if you can) of your chosen prompt to your
post. Don’t feel like searching? No problem. Here are some choices:
Again,
welcome back, and I hope that 2021 is a year of healing and growing for all.
This
prompt will remain open for a week. One link per participant, please. If you go for prose, the word count should be 369 words or fewer. Let us write
(and read)!
photo
by Toa Heftiba, on Unsplash “Inhale
the present, exhale the past and the future.” ― Leticia Rae (and
write what happens in between)
Greetings, dear wordsmiths – in fact, Season’s Greetings!
Yes, it’s holiday time. This will be our last post for this year. Magaly will usher in our New Year with a new Weekly Scribblings on Wednesday January 6th – after a pause of two-and-a-half weeks when we can focus on festivities, or a good rest, or both. And if you can’t stop writing, don’t worry – save up the results to share with us next year.
Personally I'm planning a solitary Summer Solstice celebration, as at present I need rest more than circle dancing – though I'll send the local Goddess gathering some light, of course. Nor will I be visiting family interstate for Christmas this year (except by video). Our State borders are not long open; and, at the time of writing this, some may need to close again. In any case I'm still wary of long journeys on public transport. Instead I intend some gloriously lazy self-indulgence right here. For one thing, I have a number of Mary Oliver books to re-read; one of my greatest pleasures. And it might be time to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's again – a movie I can see over and over (and have) while loving it just as much every time. What will you be up to?
Hands up who’s glad to see the end of 2020! Hmmm, yes, that seems to be unanimous – at least in terms of large-scale things such as firestorms, pandemics, economic downturns, and volatile political events.Whew!
On a smaller scale, some things haven’t been so bad – in this community, for instance. Our transition from the old format to Poets and Storytellers United, with an almost-new management team and of necessity a new blog, has turned out very well all things considered. Or so your remaining staff of three feel. We’ve settled down to a smooth and easy operation behind the scenes, with much accord, some laughter, perfect trust, and a lovely lack of drama.
Although it appears that Blogger is still doing some updating, I’m glad to say the glitches are not nearly so dramatic as they were a year ago. We can usually correct them before you even see them. I’m grateful for Magaly and Rommy’s technical expertise and their willingness to make it available to me.
Of course we'd be nothing without our lovely community of willing participants! You're the point of it all. We thank you for playing along with the ideas we dream up, and keeping it fun and interesting.
For this final post of the year, feel free to link any piece of writing you care to, old or new, poetry or prose, just one each, and please keep prose to an upper limit of 369 words. The prompt will stay open for a week.
And in conclusion, here's a little gift to writers (particularly storytellers, but I’m sure poets will enjoy it too) which I found while roving the web recently:
Greetings, my dearest poets and storytellers. It’s Magaly here,
feeling a bit loopy (after
yet anothermedicalprocedure), but
also feeling hopeful and rested (afterhaving slept 13 glorious hours). Speaking
of 13, since I have been fond of the number 13 for a very long time, I thought
the 13th of October would be a perfect day to inform you of changes
Rommy, Rosemary, and I have planned for the Poets and Storytellers United blog.
The Change: Starting on Sunday, October 31st Friday, November 5th,
P&SU’s Weekly Scribblings and Writers’ Pantry will merge into one and become
Sunday Scribblings a single event. This means that we will go from two posts a
week to one. Our new, weekly prompts will give participants the chance to
respond to a specific prompt or to share new or old poetry or prose of their
choosing.
So, there you have it. Everything else shall remain as it
has been. We’ll continue to share our words. We’ll just have a whole week to
delight in each other’s contributions before a new prompt is posted.
And now, for my last WeeklyScribblings, I invite
you to write poetry or prose inspired by a personal symbol, or a thing that
represents or stands for something else, especially a material object or an action
representing something abstract to you (i.e.,
luck, remembrance…). For example, Serena Williams
has a lucky pair of socks; Helen Mirren has a lucky pair of shoes; Benicio del
Toro wears a ring with a wooden core so he can always knock on wood whenever
needed; and I use 13 as often as possible, for luck and for centering.
This prompt will remain open for a week. We welcome fiction
and nonfiction, short and long(ish)
pieces—if
you go for prose, let the word count be 369 words or fewer. Please add the
directlink to your contribution. And after
you share your words, remember to visit other writers and let them know
what their words did for you. Significantly rewritten poetry and prose are also
welcomed.
And it yellow’d the strings of thy tangled hair,
That shook in the wind of night.
The moon made thy lips pale, beloved;
The wind made thy bosom chill;
The night did shed
On thy dear head
Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie
Where the bitter breath of the naked sky
Might visit thee at will.
-from Lines: The Cold Earth Slept Below by Percy Bysshe Shelley
(read the full poem here)
Welcome to Weekly Scribblings! Starting today, we will be dedicating Wednesdays to words that inspire prose and poetry. As January sets in, I am reminded of poems by Shelley which reflect passion, beauty, imagination, love, creativity, political liberty and nature.
I thought it befitting to carry forth a bit of Toad culture, which we all love so much! After having a heartfelt conversation with our beloved Kerry O'Connor and seeking her blessings, it has been decided that once, after every few months, I, Sanaa Rizvi, your kind hostess will bring you a word list to tease the senses.
The rules are simple. For this Weekly Scribblings edition, I want you to pick any three words from the given word list that fit the mood/theme of your prose or poem and write on a topic of your choice. Also, if you opt to write prose, (i.e. stories, essays, articles) then please keep it to 369 words or fewer.
Good luck composing your masterpieces. I look forward to reading what you come up with. Also, enjoy this music video "This is what you came for," by Calvin Harris ft. Rihanna. Have fun! 💝
Hello, dear Wordsmiths! This is Rosemary, who rejoices to be your Coordinator as we move forward together.
Reminder:
In November we move into a new format. Instead of two posts a week, Weekly Scribblings on Wednesdays and Writers’ Pantry on Sundays, we’ll combine them into one a week– when you may respond to a prompt, or post on a topic of your own choosing.
We thoughtof 'Sunday Scribblings' but then realised – with some input from you, our community – that many people are busy with other prompts on Sundays. However Wednesday is a bit tricky for some of us on the team, so we're giving Friday a whirl. We'll begin doing so on the first Friday in November.
It dawned on us that, with only one post a week, we don't need a subtitle at all. No need to specify Friday Scribblings or Friday anything, when Friday is our only day!
How is this a forward move?
~ More time to write, read and comment. ~
~ More freedom in what to write. ~
1. We don’t like being the Poetry Police or Story Squelchers – unlinking posts that don’t conform to a prompt, in order to be fair to those who follow it scrupulously. We’d rather give you more choice and have it all be OK.
2. Our behind-the-scenes team of three has turned out to be remarkably harmonious. We think we're the dream team! Our various gifts and skills combine well; and when we do (rarely) have differing ideas, we work it out very quickly by consensus, with unabated goodwill. So we don't at present contemplate adding anyone else to this sublime mix, to share the work. Yet we all – like the rest of you – lead busy lives on and offline. Once-a-week posts will have things flow even more smoothly, for us and we trust for you too.
For now –
Sorry to disappoint, but you don’t get carte blanche just yet; this is advance notice.
We do ask you toadhere to a prompt today. Please write something on the theme of ‘Forward Movement’, in whatever way you choose to interpret that. We’re accepting new pieces of poetry or prose (written in the last month – or, if older, extensively rewritten). If it’s prose, your upper limit is 369 words, excluding title.
Link us, below, to your specific blog post; link that post back to us if you will; read each other; leave comments here and there….
Have fun!
Photo by Arek Adeoye, freely available from Unsplash
Let me start today’s
Pantry by saying that our Rosemary isn’t leaving us.
If you’ve no idea
what that first sentence is about, please follow this link to the last Wild Fridays. Yep, Rosemary will no longer offer Friday features, but she will start
hosting the Writers’ Pantry and Weekly Scribblings with Rommy and me. As you might have
already deduced, this means that Poets and Storytellers United is going from 3 weekly posts to 2.
But worry not, my beloved
poets and storytellers, many of our prompts—especially the ones on Wednesdays—will
share a lot of the wonderful information Rosemary used to delight us with on
her Wild Fridays. With that in mind, we hope that most of us will not only link our
contributions to Mr. Linky but also share our thoughts about the posts in the
comment section.
Announcements and Reminders(summary and reminders might be more
accurate today):
- if you’ve yet to read Rosemary’s last Wild Fridays, please follow the
link and take a look-see. The post is full of heartfelt reflections. The
same is true about the comments.
- for our next Weekly Scribblings, Rommy would like us “to get to work on writing about rest”. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to writing and reading
new poetry and prose about taking a break (or 3) in what seems to be an eternally busy world.
Now, let’s open today’s
Pantry! Link poetry or prose (stories, letters, articles, reviews…). Let your contribution be new or old,
fiction or nonfiction, short or long (prose should be 369 words or fewer). This pantry will remain open for a week—time
to share, read, and comment.
Dear Wordsmiths, the theme today is directly inspired by my present life situation. In recent weeks my home has been considerably rearranged, and bits of it pulled out, discarded and replaced.
I had a bad, and escalating, case of mould in my unit – which I hardly noticed because I lived with it, but which ended up causing severe respiratory problems. So the Housing Department, my landlord, has been de-moulding the place. Walls have been washed with special mould inhibitors, new vents put in under the eaves, and whirly things placed on the roof to extract moisture. And my flooring has been replaced.
They gave me new bedroom carpets a couple of weeks ago, and I replaced my beds and curtains. Already my breathing is very much improved.
Today, as I write, there is lots of loud noise around me, and I am keeping out of the way in the spare room as they do the floors in the passage and my main room (open plan lounge, dining-room and office). By tomorrow, when this posts, I’ll have photos to include of my nice new space.
The renewal is on many levels. The queen-size bed I shared with my late husband has been replaced by an almost-new king-size single. I got a mattress topper to make it super-comfortable. Now I wonder how I fitted a queen-size double bed into the same space, let alone all the furniture I had around it!
Except for occupying less space, the new bed is in the same place as the old one, so it’s not quite as if I’ve banished all memories of Andrew. Still, it’s like enjoying them from a new perspective – which seems fitting, as it’s already nearly nine years since I was widowed.
I’ve chucked out the old chip-board wardrobes which were riddled with mould, bought some deep drawers and reinstated a hanging rack which Andrew and I got when we first moved to this part of the world, to an earlier home also without built-ins. I look around now at my old-but-new bedroom – same pictures on the walls, same full-length mirror but in a different place, the familiar bookshelves now where the wardrobes used to be – and feel at once the safety of home and a sense that I am refreshed like the space.
The workmen were impressed today with how well I’d cleared the main room for them. The deal was that they would shift the furniture, but it had to be emptied first. I shifted some smaller furniture as well, incidental tables and the like. I’m impressed with myself, too – not bad for an 81-year-old with arthritis! I worked out the logistics in my head first, then made sure I had enough time to pace myself. And I did accept help offered by kind friends for shifting heavy stuff, such as the many books. But the thing is, only a few weeks ago my breathing would have been too weak for any such exertions!
In sorting the books and other belongings into temporary storage in the garage, I’ve already given a lot away to a sale a friend is planning, to raise money for one of our local charities. I anticipate a longer, slower restoration of what’s left back into the house, and a more leisurely culling of yet more items no longer essential to my happiness. It’s been forced upon me; it always seemed too overwhelming to start, until now. Now I find myself looking forward to a lighter, freer environment – and self!
So today I invite you to write about change and renewal (either or both) and share the results at your blog via Mister Linky below. Just one entry per person, please; poetry or prose; prose no more than 369 words, excluding title. Apologies to those who started writing early: I added the 'either-or' option quite late, after Magaly's advance notice in the Writers' Pantry last Sunday had already gone out.
Guidelines for Wednesday 'Scribblings'
To clear up any confusion, particularly for newcomers, let me explain that for our Wednesday 'Weekly Scribblings' we prefer new pieces which you’ve written especially in response to our prompts – which we do put some thought into and try to make interesting and varied for you.
But what do you do if you’ve got something already written which fits the prompt?
We recently introduced a change, and started saying you could include ‘recent’ or ‘newish’ writings, and old ones extensively rewritten. It has become apparent that this is a bit too vague! So here is the renewed advice on this point:
1) If you wrote it in the last month (by date) we’ll accept it as ‘newish’ or ‘recent’ enough.
2) If it’s an older piece than that, which you have substantially rewritten (not just slight tweakings here and there) that’s OK too. If possible, please include in your post a link to the previous version.
3) On Sundays in the 'Writers’ Pantry', you can dish up anything you like, old or new, including pieces which address our Wednesday prompts no matter when they were written. It’s quite common for people who get inspired by a prompt a bit late for Wednesday to post it the following Sunday. You can also use the following Sunday (or any Sunday, really) for older pieces which happen to fit a prompt, and which you don’t want to rewrite.
My recent Weekly Scribblings prompt, Keeping it Real, proved difficult for most to adhere to. Don't feel bad – this is partly down to the prompter. I didn’t spell it out that Realism in art and literature involves looking from the outside and portraying / describing that.
However, I did give plenty of examples, and my prompt didn’t ask people to write about realism (though I am thinking in hindsight I'd have done well to give you that option) but to write ‘realistically’ / ‘from a realistic perspective’.
So I found it fascinating – why did so many have so much trouble being able to do that?
The Subjective
First of all, it seems we have huge trouble not being subjective – myself included. It's as if some of us simply can't. (Which is rather scary, as objectivity is so often needed when navigating life!) It is possible to write Realism with oneself as subject, but it's more difficult. One needs to stand outside oneself mentally, as an onlooker.
I am thinking there is, perhaps, a cultural aspect. Individualism is highly valued in our culture and has long been so, to the extent that its value is taken for granted and we're probably all conditioned that way from an early age without even realising it. (In some other societies – the tribal, the Socialist, many other species – the group as a whole is considered more important.) A subjective point of view seems to follow naturally from our focus on the rights and importance of the individual.
The Imagined
Also, in what we think of as the Western world, poetry is the realm of the metaphorical. Stories, too, it is agreed, come at least partly from the imagination.
The best-known form of Japanese literature, the haiku, is rooted in nature, whether observed or recollected. Even when the writer’s feelings are included, they are those directly experienced, not imagined. Metaphor is eschewed in traditional haiku. Instead we may have a juxtaposition of two apparently unconnected images, which allows for a mental leap, an understanding beyond what is written on the page. That, however, is still in the realm of reality, not fiction.
Many Westerners have enormous difficulty understanding how to write haiku, instead producing three-line verses of 5, 7 and 5 syllables per line, which are not haiku. Many things make them ‘not haiku’; the use of metaphor, internal dialogue and imagination are some.
Realism and Naturalism
Realism in art became synonymous with the early days of Communism in Russia, as a departure from what was seen as Western decadence (one reason I included the photo of Lenin’s statue in my Scribblings post). It was fashionable to extol the workers by depicting them engaged in their work – in fact not always very truthfully, though purporting to be. Manual labour was officially regarded as a noble calling. This is not something given much attention in non-Communist countries – where realism tends to pertain only to landscapes and portraits (and not all of them).
This article on realism in 19th Century Russian literature tells us:
The general characteristics of 19th-century Russian realism include the urge to explore the human condition in a spirit of serious enquiry, although without excluding humor and satire; the tendency to set works of fiction in the Russia of the writer’s own day; the cultivation of a straightforward style, but one also involving factual detail; an emphasis on character and atmosphere rather than on plot and action; and an underlying tolerance of human weakness and wickedness. The leading realists began to be published in the late 1840s: the novelists Ivan Turgenev, Ivan Goncharov, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and Count Leo Tolstoy; the playwright Aleksandr Ostrovsky; the poet Nikolai Nekrasov; and the novelist and political thinker Aleksandr Herzen.
The author goes on to explain how this movement, portraying the condition of the people under Tsarist rule, actually led to the Communist revolution of 1917.
There are some parallels in the literature of non-Communist countries, e.g. (just to take one example) John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, about the terrible conditions for farm labourers and others during the Great Depression, published in 1939. In fact this book has been cited as an example of Naturalism, which takes Realism further. This site, which goes into detail about both, differentiates them thus:
Realism is a literary movement that began in the middle of the nineteenth century in France and spread across Europe. This movement can be defined as a reaction against Romanticism. Realistic literature depicts ordinary people in everyday situations. They depicted events that could happen to anyone in real life. Realism portrays life as it is, without idealizing, flattering or romanticizing.
Naturalism proceeded from realism [and] is often referred to as a logical outgrowth of literary Realism. It can be considered as an exaggerated form of realism since it used detailed realism to propose that social conditions, heredity, and environment were the three main forces in shaping human character.
Wikipedia tells us that The Grapes of Wrath ‘won the National Book Award and Pulitzer Prize for fiction, and it was cited prominently when Steinbeck was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1962.’ However, we are also told that it was a controversial book at the time of its publication and in some quarters was denounced as socialist propaganda. Now known as a great classic, it was banned in many places.
Summing Up
Whatever the reasons, it seems those of us in this community are used to using our imaginations in our writing. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, and I’d hate to see it change! It produces some beautiful and wondrous results.
However, I think it’s good to expand our techniques. Describing something ‘from the outside’ in such a way that we – in the famous phrase – ‘show, don’t tell’ can be a useful exercise.
I’ll leave you with that suggestion, to take up or not. Meanwhile, for our next Weekly Scribblings,Magaly invites us to
write poetry or prose inspired by personal symbols. Not a symbol that holds the
same meaning for everyone, but something special to you. For example, Serena
Williams has a lucky pair of socks; Helen Mirren has a lucky pair of shoes; Benicio
del Toro says that he wears a ring with a wooden core so he can always knock on
wood whenever needed.
And, for our Writers' Pantry today, you may let your imaginations run as wild as you like, and share whatever you will – poetry or prose; new or old; any
subject, form or style. Only, if it’s prose, we ask that you restrict it
to 369 words.
Post it on your blog, add the link to your post to
Mister Linky below, enjoy reading each other and leaving what
encouraging comments you’re moved to. Also we’re always interested to
receive your comments here.
If you’ve ever been in the presence of a vintage soul (AKA
someone who has lived more than a few decades and who stays in a constant state
of bewilderment in the face of their perception of change), then
it is very likely that you’ve heard a version of “Things were different back
then.” The words are often accompanied by looks and sighs that are pure longing…
unless the change in question refers to something nasty or hurtful or worse, in
which case the pronouncement is probably coated with relief or shrouded with inherited
rage.
Since I have heard and read the
phrase a lot lately, when the time for a new Weekly Scribblings topic arrived,
I thought that it might be interesting to see what our muses would birth out of
the phrase. So, for today’s prompt, I invite everyone to write new poetry or prose inspired by the
phrase, “Things were different back then”. Use the words literally or metaphorically. Write a short piece or a
long one (if
you go for prose, the word count should be 369 words or fewer).
Please, add the direct link to your contribution to Mr. Linky. This
prompt will stay open for a week. So, we have lots of time to share
our words and to read the words of others.
Stay safe. Stay healthy.
And don’t feel bad if you feel that the Lois in the comic strip is undeniably nuts.
