We’ve started meeting more regularly to help jumpstart our writing. A difficulty in this has been finding a more permanent meeting home in Nashville. We were so used to having the privacy (and quiet!) of an office conference room that it’s difficult for us to deal with public spaces: the intrusion of servers at restaurants, the inconsiderate talking of other people when we’re trying to write, and especially the judgey looks the neighboring tables give us when we’re all laughing and talking at once and probably being too loud.

Either way, we do get a little bit done. I’m currently in the middle of starting yet another novel, exploring some characters and their motivations.

For those of you who are new here, the word prompts work like this: we each put several random words into a hat, and we draw them out 2 or 3 at a time. We then get several minutes to free-write, incorporating those words, and then move on to the next set. This is a great way to jump-start your writing because the sense of urgency is heightened.

Here’s what I was able to drum up in our last set of word prompts.

Words:

Oreo/lace/religion/capture/pair/moving van/polka dots/date/fanfare

Get your ass in here, Mari! Denise yelled down the hallway to her friend, who was about to knock on the door. I’m in the kitchen!

Denise was putting together one of her famous dessert trays. Tonight’s featured: crackers with kraft singles folded into a stack, oreo cookies, and a bunch or two of grapes. All of these were set on a plate that she would then set on the big lace doily on the coffee table in the living room.

Making these crazy hor d’oeuvres plates was almost a religion for Denise. She loved pulling together anything crazy she had in the cupboard and fridge and throwing it on a plate to make it look all fancy. She felt like using the fine china and setting food out for guests captured a mood of a party, rather than just eating crackers from a box standing in the kitchen.

Mari had joined her for dinner, and the two were about to crack open a bottle of wine. Denise pulled a pair of wine glasses from the china cabinet, and dusted the off with her polka-dot apron. She knew they weren’t dirty, they were just a bit dusty from storage.

Mari picked up an oreo and walked to the front window, twisting the cookie open and smiling to herself that the crème was perfectly on one side. She noticed that a moving van was parked outside the house next door.

That wasn’t there earlier today, was it?

What wasn’t?

That truck. Moving in or out?

Oh, they’re moving in. I haven’t met them yet, but I guess I should actually put together something other than kraft singles on triscuit if I want to introduce myself.

Meh, Mari grunted as she shrugged. You don’t have to make a big fanfare about it, do you? What’s wrong with just going over there and introducing yourself?

What? Like this? Denise gestured to her ratty jean shorts and cut-off tee, and the pink and yellow 40s style polka dot apron she wore more for fun than to protect herself from any food crumbs.

I think you look hot, Mari said, grabbing a glass of wine and toasting her friend’s sweaty top knot and bare feet. I’d do you.

I know you would, but I’m not looking for that kind of thing. Denise smiled at her friend and winked.

–Thanks for reading! Sorry about any spelling errors and definitely the punctuation. Again, these are time-restricted, so I don’t spend a lot of time on things like quotation marks. I would love any comments!

The lost children,
In the coffee bars.
Irony smiles vicious,
Ostentatia fulfilled.

Little boys and little girls,
Wake up middle aged,
With nicotine stained fingers,
And threadbare band t-shirts.

Beautiful futures behind us,
There will never be enough;
Booze,drugs,or music.
But we may still hope,
To one day dream,
Sweet dreams again.

I know this isn’t professional writing. I know that there will be no plot to this particular entry, but I must tell you, that I am excited.I am excited because, after an extended period of time trying to look for a horse, and reaching out to people trying to sell them, I am a few simple steps away from maybe, possibly, having a horse again. His name is Michael. I have not seen him. I have to wait two days to see him. All I know is that he is a thoroughbred, 16 hands tall, and 14 years old. The last couple days I have been playing phone tag with the current owner, and a few short hours ago, I had given up the idea, and washed it to the back of my mind. I do that a lot with things. I am belligerently excited right now, and I am trying to stay realistic.

I have always had horses around. I grew up riding my big sister’s childhood horse, and when my big brother moved out, I got Baby May as a grumpy fat hand me down horse. Her demeanor of indifference was endearing, and her ability to get stuck in the most horrifying of places (I once got a 6am call from my dad after he had surgery. Baby May had laid down behind the barn, and on trying to get up she had kicked through the back wall, and two windows that were leaned up against it. She got out of it fine, aside from a couple superficial scrapes on her leg, but it scared the hell out of my sister and I.) was actually comical after the fact.Last winter I lost her, unexpectedly, after all the times I thought she was a goner. Who would have thought that old age would get her in the end?

When I was a kid,I would ride my sister’s horse Windy around in circles in the corral. When my parents would fight, I would crouch down on her back, my face inches away from her mane, and tell her that we would run away together,that she shouldn’t be sad.I’d tell her I was sorry about the yelling.I was a lonely kid.Emo thoughts…moving on….So, in conclusion, really stoked, scared that I may fall off while test riding him and break my leg, excited and hope he likes me, and hope he doesn’t run away or get stuck in a fence, or beat up my dad’s horse, or run away and get hit by a semi if I get him. Super stoked in the most realistically unrealistic way ever.Yay.