|Topic Review (Newest First)|
|01-07-2008 10:45 PM|
Most creatures hibernate in the winter months, but December is the time I wake from an 11 month slumber. I am pulled from a cardboard box in the basement, with my companions, who have been carefully wrapped in tissue paper. The girl who owns me has pulled me from the box every year since she was three, and she is now a 27 year old woman. I love her deeply. I hope I will be a ritual for her until she is old, I hope her children love me like she does.
My companions and I are humbly carved from wood- we are simply formed and lightly colored with pastel stains. We are not intricately shaped or painted like others of our kind. Our owner has been faithful to us.
I can feel her small hands right now, placing me on the table, I hear the clunk of my companions being placed around me. I see them all, carefully arranged, facing towards me. Three old men, animals, an angel, a young couple, an infant. The infant lies beneath me. I am the arch over the manger. My owner dims the lights, and lights a candle behind me. All is quiet. She stares at us all for a few moments, then leaves. I look down at the infant, watching the candle shadows dance over him. It is Christmas time.
|01-07-2008 08:58 PM|
I was so glad to see another prompt I wrote this the day after Christmas and have been meaning to go back and edit. It feels really scattered to me, really disjointed. After going back and reading it though, for the most part I am okay with that - it is how the situation feels, so I think I am okay with it reading as such. The last paragraph though really needs some help - I feel like it doesn't connect at all; it seems like an afterthrought (which really, it was). And yet, if I take it out the whold thing seems to be missing something - like there is no "end". What do you think? Should I take it out? At any rate, I'd love feedback of any type: technical, clarity, praying to the writing gods, or needin’-some-lovin’. Thanks
We pleaded for days to get a tree, worried that Santa would skip our house without one. Target sold them for $10 each on Christmas Eve, not like "those damn tree lots" who were "too expensive and out to make an Almighty Buck". We circled those trees in the Target parking lot three or four times, determined to get the perfect one. Eventually, Dad tired of our conversation and said to just pick one or he would. We quickly settled on one about five feet tall - it had holes in it and was the perfect Charlie Brown tree. It listed to one side and the top was broken; it would be hard to get the angel to stay on the top of the tree that year.
The younger kids danced around the beat up blue station wagon while Mom and I hefted our tree on the roof and tied it down. Their excitement wasn't contagious though; Dad sat in the car grumbling about the price of trees, consumerism, and the "God awful noise" the kids were making. Once home he went in his room and shut the door. Mom and the kids braved the corners of the garage and somehow managed to extract a box of Christmas decorations from the shadows. I stood over the stove, in my own world, heating apple cider with cloves and cinnamon sticks and trying to focus on the warmth it would bring. Christmas was supposed to be about love, family, and time spent together. Why did it feel so empty?
Years later when my own babe was born I promised him that would never happen to his Christmas. He could be a child and revel in the excitement as long as he would. Merriment around a car while hoisting a tree above one's head would be encouraged, three times around a tree lot would be optional. I'd keep him away from grinches and scrooges complaining about the price of trees so loudly that other families left without a tree.
We don't celebrate Christmas now like when I was younger. There was no tree in our home this year and few presents. We shared cider with cloves and cinnamon sticks though, that tradition is one that I hope he'll remember and carry on when he is grown. I hope that Christmas for him will be a time to gather with loved ones, not a time to try and outdo each other by the gifting of expensive useless gifts. As we create new traditions for our family and continue those we loved in childhood, we remember loved ones who have gone before us. We ache for days past and to be able to hold those now out of reach. We strive to be fully present in this life now. We dream of the days and years to come, and hope the traditions we create will have meaning for our son.
|01-05-2008 09:20 PM|
|puddle||Is there going to be a January prompt? Last month was just too hectic for me to participate...|
|12-21-2007 10:17 PM|
YAY! It had been requested that we bring back prompts. I'm glad to hear that you are using them.
I am not going to start a feedback thread until more people post. I really appreciate hearing your experience I am open to hearing other requests/opinions.
|12-21-2007 05:30 PM|
|TypingMJ||I just wanted to comment that I wrote for the prompt, but what I wrote wasn't post-worthy. Thanks for the prompt, though, I had fun writing with it! Looking forward to the next one.|
|12-06-2007 07:29 PM|
Welcome butterflykisses What kind of feedback would you like? read the link about 'feedback' for guidelines. Look for a new stickie for feedback so we can keep it from being confusing. Maybe copy and paste into the new thread where suggestions, feedback, etc can be specifically given.
When you post your piece, make sure to post about the kind of feedback you would like (if you have a preference) if you don't wish to have any, say that too.
|12-06-2007 03:08 PM|
Hi i am new to this. i hoep this is wher I Post what I have written. Thanks for this. I miss writing. =)
As the darkness comes I can feel the air growing crisp and cold. I know the snow is coming. When the stars start to twinkle and the wind picks up, the first juicy snowflakes start to tumble down to earth. I can feel them patting my cheeks, my nose. I loath my hat and mittens wanting to feel the cold, wanting to feel something. I desperately wish them off but they don’t budge. The snow is falling faster now. The flakes have become my food. I eagerly await them. Hoping and wishing them to come faster. All creatures big and small are inside their homes, encroached in warmth and love. I am alone. I am outside, cast away without another thought. Left to fend for myself against the animals that want to tear me down. The wind has picked up and carelessly tossed my insipid hat into the muddy dark puddle on the street. The snow comes. It comes by gusts and sighs, in the breeze and the calm in between. I embrace it. I let it fill me, let the cold seep into my very being. I know in the morning they will be back. To pat me and to put the hat back, to make sure I stay where they have put me. But for now I am calm. I am happy. For I am a snowman.
|12-03-2007 03:01 PM|
This is a link to the guidelines for feedback.
|12-03-2007 02:58 PM|
Since it is the holiday season for some, let that be an inspiration for a piece of writing about a tradition. (doesn't have to be your own)
This is open ended, it doesn't even have to be a holiday tradition. Try writing from different perspectives, like cookie baking from the POV of the dough, or the rolling pin, or the child learning how to crack an egg... anything you can think of.
If you wish, post your piece here on this thread. In 2 weeks I will post a separate thread for feedback only, this is less confusing than having it all in one place.