Happy Late New Year Toads!!!!! Herotomost here, sitting and dreaming of traveling as usual. Nothing like a good trip to soothe the soul and to get your heart and mind in the right place. Doesn't matter what type of trip, whether you are flying there, taking a bus or maybe tramping down the Mississippi River on a paddle boat. Seeing the differences and similarities between culture, everyday life, scenery and weather is grounding and uplifting at the same time. This prompt is about one specific type of trip. The kind of trip that allows maximum face time with your surroundings. The kind where you can't help to make your own sound track, plug it in and sing at the top of your lungs while doing 80 on a two lane highway between Capitan and Roswell New Mexico or between Scotts Bluff and Alliance Nebraska or wherever it is that your itinerary takes you across this great big ol' world in which we live. Yes Toad's, I am talking about the road trip. The top down (or window open, unless you are Izy this time of year, she might freeze to death) music blaring and you singing at the top of your lungs (and yes you do sound just like the song). Oh, and let's not forget the snacks. When I was younger and didn't have to worry about the waistline as much, my snacks of choice where puffy Cheetos, peanut M&M's and Dr. Pepper. Now its likely to be Rice Cakes and Ensure. Any way you slice it, the road trip can be an awesome way to reach your destination while enjoying all the space in between.
Shareably.com
So enough babbling. The prompt my dear Toad's is to think back to a particularly good or bad road trip you have had and write about it. You can write about any facet, the company, car troubles, the scenery, the destination, whatever floats your boat. The piece can be in whatever form you would like, poetry, prose, religious text or bulk mail flyer. As always, has to be new and as always, if this prompt offends anyone or you just hate the subject matter and can't get into it, you can skip or write any darn thing you want. I'm easy.
Onward and upward my friends, love you all and I can't wait to read what you come up with!!!!
Just to the west of a Texas prairie town, maybe Midland, maybe Odessa ("It's in Odessa. I'm from Odessa. I was born there.") at the end of of a rutted, overgrown, dirt road, I came upon this cottage. Dusk had brought its evening palette and had begun to paint in ever broadening strokes it's warning of the impending night and its countless anxiety laced secrets. There were no signs of habitation, no modes of transportation or a remnant of a days work, there was only the desperate wails of the cicadas as they contemplated the length of a life surely at the cheated end of the biological spectrum. The cottage, sturdily built out of only the best salvaged lumber and thrice used nails, while remote, had an inviting charm that tugged at the soul of the casual passer, inviting even a total stranger to find a curious comfort within the ramshackle walls. Sunlight gave way to a steady but low light coming from the windows. It was a comfortable light, the kind of light you eat biscuits by, the kind of light only good mother's turned out while kissing the forehead of that devil by day, angel by night child, knowing that the dark is tight fisted baby sitter and the bringer of peace and wine.
At the head of the path, near the porch was a stone plaque of sorts set into a concrete foundation. The plaque, constructed of smooth faced, gray, granite, the occasional rivulet of black or pink catching that last of the evening light and turning the face into a road map flecked with quartz. I imagined at that moment that the flecks were the location of diamond mines, this thought illuminating the folly that the mind glimpses in that hour between the real light of day and the translucent ghost light of the evening. On the plaque in bold carved letters were the following lines:
For the soft of heart, to spread the love For the feint of heart, a friendly shove For the stony heart, a sculptures core For the hungry ghosts, wanting more Make a wish, break the bread and see the truth in the morn.......
Hey Toads....Heorotomost here. So its been quite a year for me, published my book, quit smoking, quit my job, started a business with my wife, yeah it has been exhausting but super fulfilling at the same time. As the Holidays approach I realize that I have pretty much fulfilled my new year resolutions (a first) and I am in a bit of a reflective mood. Hence, todays Friday prompt. In the little scenario I wrote above, I was thinking about wishes. What if there was this cottage, this wish cottage where if you stumbled upon it you could have one wish. For the prompt I don't want it to be the same old wish that you might throw out when asked this question. I want you to reflect on the right now and here, whats going on around you personally or in the world. If you are heavy hearted about recent events, if you are joyful and full of love and light about others, I want you to consider your present and make that wish in the form of a piece of writing. No form, only function. I want to know your hearts desire. This will be the first reviewing I have done in a while and I am looking forward, that is if I haven't been disowned!!! LOl.
As an added bonus, without looking it up on the net, if anyone can tell me where the Odessa quote in the parentheses above is from, I will write a piece specifically for you, to you and about anything you want me to and present it to you as my Christmas gift to you....Oh Joy!!!!!!! And you wanted a new iPad....sheesh.
Love each and every one of you, hope you enjoy the prompt. I look forward to reading anything that anyone has to offer, you have never let me down.
Ohhh, my dear Toads, it is good to see you. It is my week for a prompt, and it seems all I can do to fit any writing time in these days. Starting our own business and tying up loose ends with the old employer and being fair about it have been a bit of a stressful situation. But the time is upon us to strike out on our own and do our own thing, epic fail or gargantuan success, we do it on our own terms.
....And what do I do dear friends when stress becomes overbearing, when the world seems to weigh a metric ton, when the voices in my head are in overdrive? I eat. Never fail. Diet or no, when it gets to be too much I find a nice dinner out with my love is just the prescription to get me through. We often discuss this question:
"What if the this was your last meal, for whatever reason, and you knew it was your last meal, what would you eat?"
To date we have been very consistent, hers is Clams Linguini from Tomaso's in North Beach (San Fran). Mine is pretty pathetic, but it is pizza and wings from Fuzzy's Pizza here in Phoenix, that pizza is like crack to me. You would think I would pick some other culinary deliciousness, but when the rubber meets the road, I'm eating as much Fuzzy's as I can if its my last meal. I wonder if you never finish your meal if whatever is going to happen to you can happen? Sorry sidetracked, its not hard with me.
Tomaso's Clams Linguini
For today's prompt ladies and gentlemen, I challenge you to think of what your last meal would be, the setting you are in when you are eating it and any last thoughts, emotions, feelings that might be floating through your head as you are enjoying or not enjoying that last tempting morsel. As always this writing can be in the form of a manufacturers sticker, legalese on the back of a credit card (please include your security code), a poem, a screenplay, business card. I care not about the form or format, you know I just like to pick at those juicy brains of yours...the are so full of wonderful images.
Fuzzy's Pizza
So if you are inclined, if you are not too stressed out, join me in the prompt. If you find this meal not to your liking or if your delicate sensibilities are offended, please write whatever you want, after all, that is whats important. Love you each and every one!
The walk was as lovely as any I had been on. Late summer in the mountains had always been my favorite time of year. Olfactory endings firing like miniature muskets with the scent of juniper, spruce and a plethora of wild flowers, paintbrush, columbine, the works. The afternoon air was heavy with humidity as the occasional billow of clouds gave way to darker, unpredictable banks, heavy with the promise of a furious rain storm or worse yet, curtains of dime size hail.
I climbed, crawled, skipped, scrabbled and clawed my way across the rough terrain, at least six miles from my camp. Nature always leaves a residue of fear in your heart and mind regardless of how seasoned you are. It's the one thing that could save your life, heightened senses, the farther you go, the more animal like you become as long as you remain in control.
On this day, it was the hail. Starting as the usual dime size, but quickly growing to golf balls in girth with the occasional baseball thrown in for good measure. This was a situation that was as dangerous as any encounter, with any bear. I ran for cover in a stand of firs not finding the shelter I had hoped for from the larger hail. I darted toward a precipice, the actual rock outcropping that was called the Mogollon Rim, high cliffs that delineated the very edge of the Colorado Plateau. Here there were boulders, I thought I might find an overhang or tangle of fallen trees to hide under to escape the damnable rabble falling from the sky at a frenetic pace now. Welts were rising on the bare skin of my arms as I tried to cover my head to the best of my ability.
As my eyes scanned my surroundings for salvation, they happened upon a small cave in the side of the rim. I raced for the opening, slipping in the mud and more rolling than diving into the mouth of the cave. I usually left such places alone. In Arizona, caves were sure fire ways to have a face to face with a rattle snake or five, shacked up for coolness or for warmth depending on the weather and the time of year. But, this was an exception, battling a snake seemed like a better fate than being knock unconscious by a giant ice ball wile the subsequent hail stampeded you like the hooves of migrating caribou into the sodden ground.
The cave was quite large, almost standing room near the mouth. It went about ten feet back and then doglegged to the right. I pulled a lighter from my pocket for light and saw that I appeared to be the only living thing in the cave. It was dry and not as creepy as I would have thought it to be had I not saw for myself. I sat down near the back and proceeded to wait out the storm. I could hear as the hail turned to a torrential downpour. As my breathing slowed, my thoughts turned to.....
Hey, Hey, Hey my beautiful Toads!!!!! Herotomost here, seems like forever since I have done a prompt. Probably good since I almost forget to do it every single time it is my turn.
Anywho...on with the prompt. I know you are saying to yourself, holy crap, I had to read all of that just to get to the prompt....I am so outty! Hold on for just a second, geeezzzz, there is no reason to get all shitty and resentful. I'll get right to it. For today's prompt, I want you to imagine you are in the scenario that I painted above. Say you were in there for an hour or two, you get settled in, there is no sound and almost complete darkness. What would you think about in a situation like this. Long lost loves,? Did I leave the camp stove on? Did Lard Ass really get into the pie eating competition for free? Maybe its philosophical in nature, or maybe so practical it would make me feel like taking you out to a drag show just to liven up your life a little, doesn't matter. Take those thoughts and put them into a little ditty. Poem, story, prescription, recipe whatever. As always form is of no consequence in my prompts.
There you have it. Long winded as always. As always if, you hate the prompt, feel free to write whatever you want as long as you write or skip it if the prompt offends your delicate sensibilites.
Thanks to you all, I love you and hope you all are having a great start to your summer!
"When its spring time in Alaska... it's 40 below" or so the song says. Many of my awesome Toad friends have been feeling the pain this year, waiting for a lily pad to unfreeze, forearms the size of tree trunks after shoveling so much snow. Waiting and wishing for any day above 30 degrees so that they can take off a layer or two and show off that hot bod born from what a only a hard winter can create.
Herotomost at your service, and while here in in Sunny Phoenix, Arizona, I have no knowledge of these winter trials and tribulations (and I know that some like Kerry have just the opposite this time of year) I want to do what I can to help the rest ease into what I am sure is going to be one of the most anticipated springs in some time. Hedge is already planting, that's a good sign.
So, for my challenge this week I want you to find a comfortable, quiet spot, tune out the rest of the world, close your eyes and let it all hang out. I want you to visualize what it is that you might do on your perfect spring day given the time and the inclination. Who would you be hanging with if anyone? Would you be walking, fishing, picnicking with that special someone? Imagine breathing in the sweet smell of citrus blossoms, wisteria, or whatever smell you associate with springtime. Maybe you would be planting your garden. Don't pick up your pen until you can fully realize the scenario, relax a bit (you look fabulous in those yoga pants) and when you are ready, write me something that doesn't just describe spring. We all know how wonderful that is, write yourself into spring, give me that feeling that you get. Show me why I should be hanging with you on that one awesome day (there goes the relaxation...lol, I swear not to show up).
As always, form and format are of no consequence on a perfect day like this. You can write, draw, make me a marble sculpture, produce a broken tile mosaic. It is totally up to you. And as always, if this prompt does not suit your fancy (cuz in the springtime a young mans fancy turns to thoughts of love...and for us old men, it turns to thoughts of lust and sometimes food) please write whatever you would like or skip it and just enjoy your perfect spring day without worrying about writing a single word.
Well we officially made it to 2015 Toads! Give yourself a nice round of applause and then strap it back on and lets get this year moving in the right direction.
Herotomost here and I think that 2015 is going to be a fantastic year for me personally and here in the garden. It's my first challenge of the new year and with it I want to wax nostalgic about a hot little number I new when I was 16. Her lines were hectic. Her rear end a little greasy. I have to tell you the truth, she really got me going, she was a fox. A 1974 Audi Fox that is. Oxidized orange with one brown fender, no grill and she whistled when I drove down the road. If anyone has ever had a old german car....you know how she smelled. Her name was Julie, of course it was, that was the name of one of the many girls who I adored but wouldn't give me the time of day. The car I drive has changed, but the way women treat me has remained the same.
This is About a million times nicer than the one I had.
My challenge today is for you to summon up memories of that first mode of transport, the one that gave you the freedom to get from A to B without that nosy family butting in. Maybe it was a car, maybe a horse or maybe a motorcycle. I want you to write a little ditty in any format you would like describing not only the details of this majestic beast, but how it made you feel. As usual there are no rules except it has to be an original. If this one isn't your cup of tea, feel free to skip or write a bit of whatever you want and post it. We'll still read it.
Here's to all of you on this shiny new year....behave each and everyone of you, or not, you're all adults.
Oh my dear Toads what a week it has been. I am sitting in my RV in Campland in San Diego on Mission Bay right now thinking about what I should post for my Friday. Should it be Thanksgiving...no, someone else probably has that covered. Should I post a prompt about San Diego? Nahhhh....not everyone has been there. Then I thought....Herotomost, you are a damn fool (I finally see what you all have seen since I've been here). You just gave your daughter away on Monday and were a wreck beyond wrecks for the entire day before and for the entire event. Toads let me tell you, and many of you probably know already, I had no idea how I should be feeling about the auspicious event. I mean, the 18 months of planning by my daughter was insufferable. The price tag hard for a man of my meager means to support. But onward and upward and soon enough it was time for the wedding. Up until that point it seemed like something happening to someone else. Then all of the sudden, it was upon me and I had know idea how to feel about it. I was numb, I was sad, I was happy for her, for me, for her groom David. I was bitchy, I was emotional and I was all around a bit of a mess. I was a mess until she said I do, until I gave the speech, until we had father-daughter dance. At that point I was just grateful that she was happy, and that the wedding was everything she had hoped.
My wife and I in our finery
I look like the kid from A Christmas Story in his snow suit but my daughter looked exquisite
So my lovelies, today's prompt is to think about a situation in your own life in which you had no idea how to feel about what was happening. I think it happens all the time. Not just weddings, but funerals, death, love, lust, births. Anything. Like always, form is of no consequence....none whatsoever. Just tell me your experience the best way you know how.
I want to wish each and everyone of you the Happiest of Thanksgivings. Eat, drink and be merry, and if this prompt is not in the cards on this holiday weekend then so be it, just have fun whatever you do.
Well, its Friday my dear Toads. This is Herotomost and I find myself surrounded by Leos. Not sure what my penchant is for surrounding myself with Leos, but it has happened and I find myself floating on a see of golden manes, unrivaled prowess and spirited beauty on a daily basis. Friends, family and co-workers. Its not a bad thing, I just wonder why. If you believe in all that astrological mojo, there doesn't seem to be a specific reason for it I don't think. But, for as long as I can remember I am a magnet to lions.
So, my Friday challenge will incorporate the "In like a lion, out like a lamb" theme, I am pretty sure with the way this swamp festers with talent, bubbles with inspiration and gurgles with beauty, I should get a more than just a few wonderful pieces of writing. Here's the rules....more for the rule breakers than for the rule followers:
Write me a poem, story, love song, check, excel spread sheet (you know I have no use for form, only content) whatever your heart desires. I want you to come out of the gates writing with a ferocity or rage that is unbridled, larger than life, too hot to touch, intimidating, filled with sharp teeth, eating small children, overwhelming entire villages....you know....Roarrrrrr!!!!!
I want you to end the piece in a fashion that tapers to a point, burns out, fizzles, lands on faerie feet, gets caught on the current like dandelion fuzz, falls flat, peters out or sweetly disappears....heavy sigh.
Subject matter can be anything, excepts scorpions...I hate scorpions.
So have fun or not, write or not. Just remember I am not the boss of you. Have a great weekend and I can't wait to see what might come of this little safari!!!
Happy Friday my toadalicious garden dwellers....I hope this Friday finds you all on the brink of a great July weekend with lots of fun and frolic. Herotomost here and I am once again tasked by the Dominatrix of Dandelions, the Purveyor of the Pond, the Basilisk of the Blogosphere, Kerry, to come up with a Friday Challenge. Today I am going to talk about a little thing that I do in my poetry, not sure how it started, but it seems to have stuck with me and I like the way that it makes some of my pieces feel. It is the use of a refrain of some sort to separate stanzas that would normally be able to stand on their own, but the refrains seem to give the piece a little more depth and punch. (some folks think they are unnecessary and curse me for doing it, but what the hell, I am a writing rebel!!!!). There may be a sophisticated term for such refrains in poetry, but if there is I am woefully unaware. When writing my refrains, it makes me feel like there are two sides of myself waging a little battle for context and reality. The non-refrain portion of the piece is usually a straight forward, sort of cultural norm style of voice that says what I am expected to say or think and the refrain portion is usually that emotional consciousness side of my brain trying to see past the idealism and find that dark little truth that we may think to ourselves, but hide from everyday interactions with others. Here is an example of one of my poems with the refrains. Most of you have already read this so it is merely a refresher.
Lower the Casket
Standing storm calm, still, on that hardened patch of sand
A beach of forever and forever's, broken without so much as a
pardon
He pissed himself and tried to stop his hobbled heart from
beating
Watching as her silhouette became a soul sickened memory he
wanted
Lower the casket fat bastard
This one's a fuck
Hung by the neck with an idiots rope
May God shut the doors lest his shadow fly
And grip heaven in a liars fist
She had blown in on that very beach with a confidence worth
measuring
Who wouldn't have wanted to spend eternity probing those eyes
Sharp tongues and the power born of rum soaked
dreams....misplaced
Watching the look on her face turn from fancy, to hollow, to
hate
Another shovel full fat bastard
This one's a king
Beheaded in haste with a simpletons blade
The wrought iron gates of purgatory sing
Emblazoned with his crest alone
Mind your thoughts and move through this life with a heart like
a shelf
And place on it only those things that make you better than the
night
Rejoice in the fact that you are not God and certainly not
merely a man
And give her, her due and then some, that skin is beautiful
history
Say the prayer fat bastard
This one's a man
Bludgeoned with a hustlers hammer
That sacred moment before death's dance Was the moment he saw God
So, good or bad, that is what I am talking about. Now, to the challenge!!!! I want you talented toads to write me a piece that has some sort of refrain. It can be a repeating refrain that lends rhythm and punch, it can be a shadow refrain speaking from that bi-polar side of your brain that does not necessarily agree with what you think you should be thinking, or it could be a refrain that adds playfulness and agility to pick up the pace of the message. If you want to get really creative, it does not have to be poetry, as always it can be anything your little amphibious hearts desire. And also, as always, if you find this challenge creepy, against your religion, not up to your standards or flat out too hard and you find you would rather take a nap, then you are welcome to take that nap or write and post whatever you would like to. I'm easy, just ask my wife.
And with that I sign off...thank you for thinking about playing and.......
Everyone jump upon the refrain....ooooaaaaaeeeeeaaaaaaooooaaaaaaa....come ride the refrain!!!!! lol...that was just sick.
Happy, Happy Friday Toads!!! Its Herotomost with a Friday challenge for real this time. Can't flub this up two months in a row or I will be in danger of being exiled from the Garden for good. So I will be on my very best behavior, I will not create this challenge in my underwear and I will make sure it gets posted on time. It has been 108-111 degrees here the last week, so anything I can do inside in the air conditioning is a welcome task.
Today I want to talk about the long lost art of letter writing. My daughter (8) has ben on a jag of letter writing lately, not sure why or how it came about, but she has been writing letters to everyone she knows and sending them. It got me to thinking how good it feels to get something in the mail that is not a bill, a flyer or some magazine that you don't remember ordering. There is something personal about a letter that can't really be duplicated by email, text or phone conversation. I think part of it has to do with the being able to take your time, say what you want in unabbreviated terms and the fact that taking the time to do it seems just a little special.
For the challenge, I want to write a piece that mimics the tone or form of a letter to someone. It can be anyone. It can be a love letter, a correspondence to the local utility company, a letter to your Great Uncle Ned, an angry letter to your senator, I don't care but be creative with it. Put in those personal touches for which you Toads are so famous. If you want a little extra twist to the challenge, you can write the letter to one of your writing friends here in the blogosphere and when you are finished, you can stick it in an envelope, stamp it and send. Think of the warm fuzzy you will give them when they open it and you make them think that you are stalking them. And if your wondering if your toad friends are worth the cost of a stamp, just think back to all the wonderful support and wonderful writing they have brought you over your stay here in the Garden.
With that I will bid you a fantastic weekend filled with family and friends or rest and relaxation. Love you all and hope this Challenge finds you well!
Happy Friday my dear Toads, Herotomost here with another improvised challenge, I nearly forgot that I was up today. My post vacation memory still has me sitting on the beach, talking to the Argentinean girls and scarfing on fish tacos that only we were able to get much to the chagrin and irritation of the rest of the guests. I felt like royalty. Its nice to be special...lol.
Anywho, enough about all that. I want to talk about the age old romantic art of arranging mix tapes for your mad crush. You know, that one mix of perfectly ordered songs that you knew would bring that special someone to their knees, the one that would endear you to him/her so completely that you spent hours trudging through your collection to show them your wide range of musical tastes and the fact that you are as hip as any beatnik sipping coffee and wearing turtle necks on the second floor of Vesuvio.
So to honor this tradition of love, I want you to write me something that screams "look at me my love", but not in a way that is lacy and ethereal like some writing about love. I want you to be cheesy, lusty, rapturous, obsessed, candid, fun, belligerent or awkward. I want the real face of love, clumsy and heady, obtuse and full of blushing. You can use the mix tape as a subject or not, but I want that idea to at least hang in the air. This should be new writing, poem, snippet, billboard, short story, autobiography or an ode to a long lost tribe of talking rabbits....I am easy....you know that.
If you feel that this challenge is not for you, you are welcome to skip it or write whatever the hell you want, I like that too. If your piece will over 300,000 words long please inform Kerry as she will already be mad that I have spoken of romance once again, although in my defense...it has been awhile and spring is coming, you know about a young (ha!) mans fancy!!!!!!
Thanks so much for at least considering the challenge, I always look forward to seeing what you have up your sick little sleeves. Love you all!!!!!
My darling Toads, it seems another Friday challenge is upon me and to tell the truth it has me thinking of my annual trip to Isla Holbox, Mexico which is coming up in February. It will be my sixth time to this little island paradise, a fishing village of 2500 people on the Yucatan peninsula about three hours from the hustle and bustle of Cancun. This isn't your normal tourist destination, at least not yet. There are no cars, no all inclusive resorts, no locals hocking trinkets on the beach. It is a destination that requires relaxation. There is no TV in the room of the hotel that we stay at, but that has never been a problem. What there is, is an abundance of people from all walks of life and from all corners of the world. It's palapa bars, great food in charming, quaint restaurants. It's soccer in the sand, flyfishing on a stretch of beach that runs for miles with not another living soul in site. Holbox is one of the few places that I have been where time doesn't seem to matter in the least, its tequila and a cold beer, micheladas and fresh Cobia. Ok, ok I know, you get it. The bigger point I want to make is the best part of the whole thing is the people that I have met on these trips, good, bad, beautiful, interesting and as wonderful as the day is long. That is what I am basing this challenge on. If you awesome amphibians are up for it, I want you to think of someone you have met on a special trip to your special place and write about them. Once again, it can be a poem, a story, a soup can label, an advertisement, I don't care about the format. I find that giving some unsupervised space helps the creativity flow. Below is a picture of the beach in front of our room and a poem about the wife of one of my favorite Argentinian island boys that arrived on the island to work the very day we checked in for the first time, his name is Christian. The title is his wife's name and he calls my wife and I mom and dad......heavy sigh! So go forth and propagate my loves and don't stop until it feels right! As always thank you to all who participate...XXOO!
Jeevyl
He brought you this fish mi amor, to hang your
life on
Under his hand, life struggles to be a perfect
circle
Under yours, the circle changes into
shimmering possibilities
The softness of your skin, matching the bright
red spot on his heart
Mi casa es su casa, mi amor
For you the sea called and you answered with
unblinking brown eyes
It asked you for a favor, one that only you
could fulfill
It handed you the silver chain, the one
attached to his soul
A prize stolen by the sea in days of doubt and
contemplation
Mi corazon es su corazon, mi amor
"Put this under your pillow child and
hold him with your eyes"
You did and for one week the tide whispered
your name as you slept
And the chain dissappeared from this world
silently
Slipping around your waist, your
soul, securing this Mexican destiny
Happy Holiday all of my lovely Toads!!!! Herotomost here with another Friday challenge. I heard those eyes rolling....STOP it!!!!! That is very unholiday like! OK...so this is a shorter than normal challenge as I realize that everyone is super busy, but I hope it is interesting nonetheless. If not, I apologize up front, I am but a humble challenger and you know my imagination is spotty at best.
Because the holidays are a time for family and friends, this challenge is going to involve our family and friends. Writing can be a lonely thing, sometimes our family and friends don't quite understand what it is that we are trying to accomplish. Some do, but their enthusiasm for our love of the craft can be a bit underwhelming. Soooo....we toil in front of our computers, glass of wine or hand full of chocolate chip cookies in tow and try our hardest to be the best little writers we can. We may show them something we wrote...they may give us an "isn't that lovely", but in the end we end up really just trying to write for each other it seems.
For my challenge I want you to seek out a family member or friend, kids, husband, coworker, someone who doesn't write and ask them to give you an opening line. It can be just a line, a stanza, a word, or maybe just an idea. I want you to use that fresh family info to write a little something and then when you are finished, share it with that person. When you post, I would like you to tell me what their reaction was to what you wrote.
With all that, I would like to throw out my fondest Holiday wishes to everyone of you and let you know I have had a great year with each and everyone of you. You complete me!!!!!!! Love you all and can't wait to see what you come up with. As always, if this challenge is not your bailiwick or if it infuriates to the point of wanting my head on a spike, skip it or just write me whatever you want to....I will bear no grudge.
Heya Toads! Its me Herotomost making the mad dash to pull together a Friday challenge that is worthy of your poetry prowess....you have no idea how hard that is with the amazing talent that we have here right in our own garden.
The other day I was thinking (that's where it all starts to unravel as you well know) about the relationships that we have to one another in this vast and sometimes crowded place we call the internet. I think of you all as my good friends or at least awesome acquaintances even though the only way I know you is via small profile pics (and some of those aren't really you), your written words or the little bit of personal information you divulge in our occasional or in some cases, more than occasional online conversations of blog perusals. I have, in my own head, and from this intermittent information, deduced a picture of what you might be like and who you might be (a super lovely bunch I have to say). Sooo...this is a little experiment aimed at seeing just what you might think about who I am or what I am about. You may say to yourself...
"Well......Mr. Herotomost, that seems a little like you are fishing for compliments or something of that nature and I am not looking to make your head any larger than it already is."
That my dear toads, is not the point. Its more of a social psychological writing experiment to see how empathic we all might be with such a small amount of personal information. The challenge is to take one or two things you know about me and write honestly about what I would do, how I would be, or what I am like based on the information you know about me. Do it honestly even if you think it may hurt my feelings or may explode my ego to beyond universal proportions. I want to see how close everyone comes in their assessment to what I think and feel about myself, which also may not be an accurate reflection as we well know from things like American Idol tryouts. I will respond to each one with an indication of whether I agree or don't agree and why. It could be dangerous for me, it could be fun, but mostly its something different, which is what I strive for. Make me cry, laugh, curse, whatever the case may be. For those of you that don't really know me at all, feel free to go to my Blog Mexican Radio or Facebook page (Corey Rowley) and have a look around and blow me away with your psychic skills.
If this challenge makes you feel queasy or nervous at all, please skip it and I will catch you the next time around, or just write me something new of your choice and post if for the world to see. As always, this can be poetry, prose, novel, recipe, calendar entry...I am not picky, except I need you to follow a 2324459877678765 syllable pattern...Psych!!!!!! Just kidding, no particular format.
I now leave it in your capable hands and brace myself for the ugly truth. I love you all and wish all for you an extremely happy and healthy weekend.
Ok...so I walked into a bar with a poodle under my arm.....alright truth is, no poodle under my arm. I did walk into a bar recently, sat down and looked at the marketing blitz that lay before me. The amount of time and money spent fashioning bottles, labels and names for liquor floored me. There were bottles of every shape, size and color. Some ornate and very hip and trendy, some very plain and simple but appeared stoic and a bit reserved. I thought about how this marketing affects the way we think about the product and the act of drinking and strangely, I think for most people it may have more to do with what we imbibe than the manufacturing or taste of the alcohol. I know some of you don't drink, but even at that, bottles and the name of liquors hold a certain feeling and draw, it seems inevitable. the naming of wines has become an art unequaled and I know people who buy a bottle because of the name just to see if it is good, especially if it is a bit out of the ordinary or especially if it has sexual overtones.
Now, todays challenge revolves more around the names than the bottles, because I think you could write something fantastic using a few of the more common and not so common names of these alcoholic beverages. If you have a serious issue with alcohol, I apologize. I know some do, you can skip this one or play in any way you wish, but for the rest of you, I want you to come up with a story, poem, essay, box top add, again...in my world the form is of no consequence, using one of the names presented below in the poem, or using the name as a springboard to a thought process or subject matter. Get creative my little bed bugs.....it all that I ever ask...lol.
Middle Sister
Jameson
Belvedere
Corozon
Apothic
Rang Tang
Arrogant Bastard
Green Flash
Barrio
Johnny Walker
El Presidente
Captain Morgan
Now go forth and create......I don't have to tell you that the amount of creativity I see out of this group on a daily basis could provide electricity for the entire planet. Love you and hope this turns out to be fun, and not just a bunch of work...lol.
