FORUMS

Connect with people who understand what you are going through, seek advice and surround yourself with support. We're free, anonymous, and professionally moderated 24/7.

  • 47,612Members
  • 1,358,869Posts
  • 1,400,000Visitors
Social space

The Creative Writing Corner

The Creative Writing Corner

"There is no greater power on this earth, than story," Libby Bray

Why hello there!

I've been discussing with @Jynx and @AuntGlow the fact that I used to write a lot as a child - pages and pages of imagination, and wonderous stories that I loved sharing with anyone that would listen at the time. I feel like I've lost that little spark of wonder and imagination. AuntGlow and Jynx have been encouraging me to explore writing again, to remove the perfectionism and judgement from it and look at it as a process, as a way to connect with younger me and the kind of vivid imagination that younger me had.

I know that we have some writers here, and some members who use writing as a way of expressing themselves, so I wanted to extend the same opportunity to the forum. I thought we could share a writing prompt each week, and members could write whatever comes up for them, whether it be poetry or prose. Members can share their writing, or just comment and let others know that they're joining in - whatever feels more comfortable. There's never any pressure to share. As a matter of safety and consideration for others, please make sure that the writing you do share, sticks to the forum guidelines.

Our first prompt to kick us off is....

87 replies

71 - 80 of 87
1...789

In response to: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

I have a watch that's similar too @avant-garde it was my Grandmothers. It's a wind up one and I love the tick tick sound it makes.

In response to: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Love it @avant-garde - reminds me of this quote (even though it sort of has the opposite message lol) -

“Try to imagine a life without timekeeping. You probably can’t.

You know the month, the year, the day of the week. There is a clock on your wall or the dashboard of your car. You have a schedule, a calendar, a time for dinner or a movie.

Yet all around you, timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Deer do not fret over passing birthdays.

Man alone measures time. Man alone chimes the hour. And, because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures.

A fear of time running out.”

- Mitch Albom

I love that you love clocks, and even know how to repair them!! Such tiny gears.... 😮

I'm impressed! 😍💜

In response to: Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Our writing prompt for the week...

@Jynx @avant-garde @Ruby26 @MissGremlin @Penguincat @heartathome

In response to: Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

There's many doors in front of me,

will one of them set me free?

I open one, but it's just more pain,

another disappointment, another strain.

I try another, but it's bare,

a dead end, a trap, nothing good there.

The next door creaks, but inside is dark,

a place where even hope can’t leave a mark.

Still I open more, I push ahead,

fighting the voices that fill my head.

Maybe just one, one with light,

but doubt starts to fill me, it's hard to fight.

I hesitate, my heart unsure,

each door a test, each step a blur.

What if the next one’s worse than the last?

what if the door just brings up the past?

Yet I turn the handle, just to see,

could this door be the one for me?

A spark, a flicker, soft and small,

maybe, just maybe, it’ll break the fall.

@NightFury @avant-garde @Jynx @Shaz51 @AuntGlow

In response to: Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Thank you for sharing @MissGremlin I can hear your hope in this poem.

In response to: Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

@NightFury it was subtle but it was there, I feel my hope is only there subconsciously at the moment. It doesn't usually come out when I write so it was actually nice to see it.

In response to: Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Fia pressed her nose against the dusty windowpane of the door. The glass was frosted with age making it impossible to see through. With a sigh, She peeled her face from the door.


"All ya gotta do is knock on the damn thing, Fia, "She mumbled under her breath."It really ain't that hard."


The money she would get from this delivery would put food in her belly for a week, maybe longer if she was careful. She couldn't let her nerves get in the way. Lifting a grubby hand, Fia tried to pat down her too wild red curls before balling her fingers into a fist and setting her knuckles against the faded, peeling green paint. The first knock was faint, barely audible. With a frustrated grunt, She knocked again, harder and louder this time.


Heavy footsteps sounded from within, followed by a series of thumps, bangs and crashes."Yeah, what do ya want?" Grumbled a gruff, muffled voice from the other side of the door.


"Sorry to interrupt ya sir, I'm sure ya real busy..." She started only to be interrupted...


" Will ya Just hurry it up.?"


Rolling her eyes, She let out a long slow breath. she always talked more than what she needed to, especially when she was nervous. It's like her mouth moved on its own accord.


"Penrose sent me ta pick up his order." She called back through the door.


There was a pause then," Is that all?"


Fia frowned, this wasn't going the way it was supposed to, then it came to her.


"He told me to tell ya his Gran passed a kidney stone."


There was a loud scraping sound, followed by a click and the door creaked open, not far, Just enough for the owner of the gruff voice to shove a rough spun bag into her chest, causing her to stumble backwards in response.


" Give Penrose my regard, "he huffed as he slammed the door closed.


Fia wrapped her arms around the bag, cradling it to her chest.


"Ya welcome, " She called back to the closed door in her best, most smart alec voice, before turning her back and walking away.

@MissGremlin @Jynx @avant-garde @Shaz51 @Ruby26 @Penguincat @AuntGlow @heartathome

In response to: Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

@NightFury that was great to read, I found myself reading it in an accent. Thankyou for sharing sweet and well done ☺️

In response to: Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

I have a new writing prompt for us all...

@MissGremlin @Jynx @avant-garde @Ruby26 @Penguincat @heartathome @AuntGlow

In response to: Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Re: The Creative Writing Corner

Hello Night Fury and everyone,

I'm Calamity and just joined the forum. This is my first writing piece in abut 3 years. It's called Life Lessons.

Stunned by the beauty before her eyes, she blinked back tears. This space was holy ground to the young teenager. She had played under the grand Willow tree since she was a child. Her Father had hung a swing on its strong branches and she would spend hours rocking back and forth under it's living canopy. Even swimming in the river that ran through her family property was a more pleasurable because of the Willow tree. When the sun would shine aggressively, she would swim into the shade the branches created on the waters surface, saving her skin from crisping and turning a furious red. She would always stop there on her daily horse ride, sheltering beneath the leaves while contentedly eating vegiemite sandwiches. As the memories faded in and out of her mind, her Father placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned to him and he wiped away her tear stained cheeks with the backs of his fingers.

The workmen begain cutting down the Willow tree. Sawing through branches that quickly fell to the ground. Then the trunk was quickly discected and felled. It was neatly done with benign cruelty. The girl had stopped crying. The harsh reality of life had calcified her sorrow. She knew the Willow tree was sick, had contracted a deadly fungus and was over 50 years old, which is the length of their usual lifespan. Her Father had told her it had become dangerous to stand underneath it. It was for everyone's safety. "You understand don't you sweetheart?" The girl looked at her Father, her lips smiled and she nodded but said nothing. She wondered if there was a heaven for trees and hoped there was. There was nothing she could do to stop the destruction of the tree but the Willow seedling in her pocket that she would plant once the workmen and her Father had gone would grow in time, all she had to do was wait and what had been sullied would be holy again.

Thanks for taking the time to read my efforts. I look forward to reading yours.
-

71 - 80 of 87
1...789