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Daily writing exercises.
Let’s fire up those writing muscles! I was just thinking about what a slump I’ve been in with my writing for the last month. I think just about every writer experiences writer’s block. By helping you, I want to help me too. In my experience, it’s best to just keep on writing every day, even if it’s just a little tiny bit. This is just intended to help people suffering from writer’s block. If enough people like this idea, I will try to keep it going. Write a paragraph (or more) a day with these prompts. Don’t post your completed responses for 5 days. (Or not at all if you don’t feel like it, but I’d love to read them!) Day 1: Write about an injured bird. Maybe you hurt the bird, maybe you’re helping the bird. Maybe you are the bird. Or maybe the bird is a metaphor. Day 2: Write a paragraph or more about a kid who’s afraid of monsters under his bed. Are they real? What’s his parents’ response? Day 3: A box is sitting on your doorstep. Is it from a secret admirer? Or something more sinister? Day 4: You (or your protag) has been abducted by aliens! Day 5: You go on a blind date. What is your date like? Do they seem nice? Are they nuts? Is there a connection or are you just trying to get through this drag of a date?

flightless creature

i was walking the other day and i guess i must not have seen you. your flightless body lay limp and your feathers were scattered all about you.

funny thing is my mother always said not to touch dying creatures. that replayed again and again in mind. thinking back i probably should have listened. but in life you can't go back so not matter you end up having to stand by your decisions. something about that dying bird touched me. maybe i saw myself in it. maybe i saw you in it. but this this time whoever i saw in it i wanted to save. i had let go, let you die. i had let myself die years ago, but this time i wanted to do more than give up. i wrapped the little bird up in my shirt, how i must have been percieved by on lookers?

they must have looked at me like i was crazy and inwardly i felt like i was i was merely holding it all together. its beaded black eyes gazed at me in wonder and in desparation grateful that i was helping it but doubtful of my motives. even it knew that in worldly perspective it wasn't worth saving. and yet stupidly i worked to save the flightless creature. nurturing it and trying to save it. it couldn't die. what do you know? it sang again, and then hopped and finally it flew.

and i wondered in the end was it all worth it. it's troubles and problems could have been over its worries and wonders could have subsided. was it really worth everything to contiune on when in the end we all fall, we all die. was it worth the work? i know now it's greatful, but in a few years will it wonder why i helped it, when it understands how bittersweet life can be. i guess for bird it's simpler life is free and without worry. i envy the bird for it's ressurection was a blessing when mine was surrounded in doubt and questions why did you save me?

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