Friday, August 12, 2011
Free Write Friday
Based off the [Fiction] Friday Challenge at Write Anything.
[Fiction] Friday Challenge #220 [Fiction] Friday Challenge #220 for August 12th, 2011
Include each of these items in your story. Priest, ring, magnifying glass, cat.
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Okay I am just suppose to right anything for 5 minutes....
I am not Catholic so it was strange to me that my mother said a Priest would be coming over to lunch today and I was suppose to be in my "Sunday best". I wasn't sure what my Sunday best was as a family we hadn't been to church in several years so my Sunday best was my house slippers and my baggy sweater. I tried asking my mom why a priest was coming over but she wouldn't tell me.
When I came home for lunch Father O'Leary was already sitting on mother's best sofa, the one that had the soft blush flower design. I was never allowed to sit on it, it was only for special guest Father O'Leary must have been very special that he had been allowed to sit on it. Mother rushed me into the bathroom so I could wash off my face and straighten my hair. I didn't know why mother was making such a show for this priest but she was certainly trying to present us in our best light. I even noticed she had put Hamlet, our cat, outside. He hadn't left the fire escape and I could hear him yelping all the way down the block.
After a few minutes of silent eating, minutes that felt like each one lasted a life time. Mother asked me where my father was. I told her that on the motor bus to work he said he may not be able to come to lunch as his both had him under lock and key these last few days. Father O'Leary then cleared his throat and pulled out a ring from his pocket. I could tell with out a magnifying class that it wasn't really a ring just a gold band and a piece of glass.
"This was your mothers?" he said.
My breath and appetite were gone.
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Okay that was probably more than five minutes but they said to keep writing... that was fun.
[Fiction] Friday Challenge #220 [Fiction] Friday Challenge #220 for August 12th, 2011
Include each of these items in your story. Priest, ring, magnifying glass, cat.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay I am just suppose to right anything for 5 minutes....
I am not Catholic so it was strange to me that my mother said a Priest would be coming over to lunch today and I was suppose to be in my "Sunday best". I wasn't sure what my Sunday best was as a family we hadn't been to church in several years so my Sunday best was my house slippers and my baggy sweater. I tried asking my mom why a priest was coming over but she wouldn't tell me.
When I came home for lunch Father O'Leary was already sitting on mother's best sofa, the one that had the soft blush flower design. I was never allowed to sit on it, it was only for special guest Father O'Leary must have been very special that he had been allowed to sit on it. Mother rushed me into the bathroom so I could wash off my face and straighten my hair. I didn't know why mother was making such a show for this priest but she was certainly trying to present us in our best light. I even noticed she had put Hamlet, our cat, outside. He hadn't left the fire escape and I could hear him yelping all the way down the block.
After a few minutes of silent eating, minutes that felt like each one lasted a life time. Mother asked me where my father was. I told her that on the motor bus to work he said he may not be able to come to lunch as his both had him under lock and key these last few days. Father O'Leary then cleared his throat and pulled out a ring from his pocket. I could tell with out a magnifying class that it wasn't really a ring just a gold band and a piece of glass.
"This was your mothers?" he said.
My breath and appetite were gone.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay that was probably more than five minutes but they said to keep writing... that was fun.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Writing Spaces
Yesterday as I was writing about "What do you do?" I was thinking about my writing space. 
What I mean by that is where do I like to write. Minus this blog I don't usually find staring at a blank screen as inspiring so I usually have to write my stories in a notebook I carry around with me at all times. But that's not really what I mean either. I mean what spaces do you find creative rather it be sitting in a park, at a coffee shop or cozy corner or room that you like to use for your writing?
I have always found having a desk by a window very inspiring. When I was in high school I dreamt of the day when I was a real author I would have a room in my house with a big window that over looked the ocean of course then I was planning on living in Santa Barbra. Now I live in Boston but I still dream of having a desk by the window and a floor to ceiling bookshelf. I was actually inspired to put my desk by the window in my last furniture redesign after spending all summer looking at this woman who would sit at her computer in her bay window that looked down on Pickney Street on Beacon Hill, thinking that she was writing her novel. I know she was probably checking her email or her bank statement but I liked to think of her writing that novel. So my mom and I moved my desk to the wall with the window, and when I sit there and have a really creative moment I love being able to look out the window.
But as I get ready for my new move I think about my new room and where do I want to put my desk to allow me to write. I also think about in the future, when I a real author and I no longer call my self a wanna be author what do I want my writing room to look like, and feel like. Googling "writing spaces" I have come up with some inspirational ideas.
I liked this room because of all the books.
What I mean by that is where do I like to write. Minus this blog I don't usually find staring at a blank screen as inspiring so I usually have to write my stories in a notebook I carry around with me at all times. But that's not really what I mean either. I mean what spaces do you find creative rather it be sitting in a park, at a coffee shop or cozy corner or room that you like to use for your writing?
The reason I bring this up that I was intrigued where I wrote this blog...at work on my lunch or coffee break. My little cubicle with its grey wall that have tried to cover up with cards (I have gotten from my co-workers) pictures from magazines, and a page I tore out of my Mary Cassatt book to have some art around me. I am not ashamed to admit my walls of my cubicle look pretty crowed from the things I like to see to my papers I keep up that I have to remind me what needs to be done. But I find it odd I use this space to write my blog, or at least this part of it. My story is ALWAYS typed up at home. I like on Saturday mornings to pour myself a big cup of coffee sit down have WERS (a radio station that plays the best of Broadway from 10-2 on Saturday) playing in the background and write. I have my desk up against the wall in my apartment that has two windows so I can look out and see the world pass by. I also have two Degas Prints up on that all right over my desk. I find it a very nice spot to write. Sorry I do not have a picture of it, I am beginning to move and my place is a mess.
I have always found having a desk by a window very inspiring. When I was in high school I dreamt of the day when I was a real author I would have a room in my house with a big window that over looked the ocean of course then I was planning on living in Santa Barbra. Now I live in Boston but I still dream of having a desk by the window and a floor to ceiling bookshelf. I was actually inspired to put my desk by the window in my last furniture redesign after spending all summer looking at this woman who would sit at her computer in her bay window that looked down on Pickney Street on Beacon Hill, thinking that she was writing her novel. I know she was probably checking her email or her bank statement but I liked to think of her writing that novel. So my mom and I moved my desk to the wall with the window, and when I sit there and have a really creative moment I love being able to look out the window.
But as I get ready for my new move I think about my new room and where do I want to put my desk to allow me to write. I also think about in the future, when I a real author and I no longer call my self a wanna be author what do I want my writing room to look like, and feel like. Googling "writing spaces" I have come up with some inspirational ideas.
I liked this room because of all the books. <----
I liked this room because of the window and it looks like it had some personal touches. I love to have photos of people around me, I love collecting post cards of places traveled to or every time I go to a museum I buy a post card(s) of art I liked to inspire me.
This is probably what my desk will probably look like with my cat who loves to get my attention by sitting on my work.
I was thinking that it was odd I was writing about creative space... and my readers might be a bit confused about what random tangent I was going on today I found another blogger who wrote about space, so I might be odd but I am not the only one out there. Thank you Lobby Lu
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
What do you do?
I was inspired to write this post after reading this blog post by the blogger unRemarkable girl.
She writes...
one of the downsides of living with a pilot is that his job is infinitely more interesting than mine. at parties people want to hear all about the glamour of the pilot's life, or ask questions like why you need to switch off your ipod during take off. when people hear what i do for a living, they smile vacantly and then move on. so i thought i'd talk about my job today - whilst trying not to bore you to death.
I tried to comment but it wasn't working for me so in response I write this.
You know when you meet people usually the first question is "what do you do?"I could say my job title "Membership Processor" or what I feel my job is. But both of those are not the answer I would like to say. I sometimes say I am a grad student getting a dual Masters in Library Science and a in History. Which is usually is followed by confused looks or people asking me questions about the Dewey Decimal System (which I have not memorized) or a joke saying you have to get a Masters to put away books. So after I tell them what I do I in turn ask them what they do. And sometimes that's where the conversation ends. Sad. I think sometime what we do for a living puts us in a box and from then out you are the job to them.
But I would like to ask "what are you passionate about?"
The answer to this question is writing. I have other loves my family, my church, my friends, Jane Austen, reading, and more. But my passion is writing. I love writing stories, I love writing this blog, I love writing in birthday cards, and I love writing long handed letters. I just love writing. Though this blog is not world famous and doesn't have 100s of readers (I got excited when my blog got into the double digits the other day). And I am not a published author (though I would like to be maybe never as big as J.K. Rowling). I love like writing.
Last night I went bowling with my community group (bible study) and one of my friend's asked me how was your week I said "work was not so great" but then I said "but I got a lot of fun writing done and that was good." I told her about my blog and how I am also writing a story. She might have gotten more information then she wanted but it was still great to say that even when work isn't going well my week was good because I got some writing in.
Sorry I couldn't respond unRemarkable girl I do love your blogs and photos.
P.S. Would like to wish my Dad a happy birthday. (Here he is playing with my niece...doing what he loves to do; being a grandpa.)
Please tell me what your passionate about... maybe we can start a better connection that way?
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