Welcome to Week One of the August contest for 2015!

To view full details, click here to redirect to Word Press! This month we'll be turning vague previews into the big picture. 

Come play!

Did you know the 5-word story game has a legitimate origin? Well, I did not. According to Wikipedia, the exercise to which we are accustomed is grandfathered by a game called “The Exquisite Corpse“. The article describes it as “a method by which a collection of words or images is collectively assembled. Each collaborator adds to a composition in sequence, either by following a rule (e.g. “The adjective noun adverb verb the adjective noun”, as in “The green duck sweetly sang the dreadful dirge”) or by being allowed to see only the end of what the previous person contributed.” Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Today’s rules are as follows: Contribute five words, or until you have used two adjectives, whichever comes first. (And yes, we are going to have many arguments about what constitutes an adjective, and the intellectual debate will be fiery and fun.) I’ll kick off.

“A bleeding moon rose above the barbed wire…”

The Lost & Found June contest is still going for those of you who signed up, and those of you watching can still play along with weekly word games (here’s a recent treat) and support your fellows as the month unfolds.

Last night’s Google Hangouts Flamestorming session was a success — feel free to share links to your results in the comments, and be on the lookout for the next scheduled event!

Is it Monday again? It seems as though a great deal of time has passed. For one thing, you may have noticed the format has changed somewhat in the last week. Today we bid farewell to ‘Manic Monday’, ushering in a new future for the beginning of your week. Stay tuned! But today, the topic is change, primarily that of scenery.

There are many kinds of change, but one of the most dramatic is a change of location. We, as human beings, have an evolutionary imperative to associate shelter and the home front with security and comfort. As even a migrating tribe would build camp during pauses in exodus, today we exhibit similar habits and traditions on a modern day scale. People tell you, “Home is where the heart is.” I suppose that means the first thing you have to find is your heart. If you are a writer, your heart may be in your work. It follows logically that home is actually where you feel safest to write.

If your heart is in your writing, then home is anywhere your computer (or other writing tool) is. What surrounds and lies beyond your computer is the other story. Beyond the desk and the chair and the temperature of the room, what defines the comfort and security of the home for your heart, for your craft? And what of the writer who never writes in the same room, or has no room at all? Every person, and so every writer, draws their peace from a different source or combination of sources.

Most of us are taught and socialized to accept that home is where you pay your rent, wash your own dishes, and keep your own shoes next to the door. There is a reason we use a general term like ‘homeless’ to describe anyone who does not live inside. A simple Pinterest search proves that many writers swear by the importance of a well-designed writing space. If it takes a collection of colors, angles, and textures brought together in specific syncopation to maintain the stability needed to write, then change of scenery is only rendered irrelevant when that small corner of one’s environment is reclaimed and set back into stone. Every new apartment, house, or otherwise has potential. After all, what are walls and floors and ceilings except another blank page? But the life one lives with pre=printed address labels is not always freedom — for many others, it is prison.

Consider the life of a traveling writer. From whence does a wandering scribe draw harmony? For a traveling writer, the bread and butter is the constant change of one’s scenery, and the adventures that develop as a result. Surely, a different constant tethers a traveler to the center of their own sense of zen. When every hotel room, foreign hostel, camp tent, and blanket beneath the stars must serve as home one day at a time, how does one collect from fountain of stability? Yours truly believes it is the glorious lack of tomorrow’s itinerary that drives a wandering salmon upstream. If upon the rise of every sun the same day lies before you, how then can you paint the picture of a different possibility? Similarly, it is a brave soul that writes only from experience, and it is upon the winding road of adventure that one lives more than the one life each of us is guaranteed.

What role does scenery, characterized here as where one might call ‘home’, shape your writing and your identity as a writer? Is there a part of you that hungers for the traveler’s life, or do you seek the homestead? It is arguable that one can write most clearly from what one has truly experienced — do you agree, or can the talented artist work from fresh, unblemished clay?

The June contest marches on with its chosen theme, Lost & Found. Follow the link to play along, or to support your fellows. In addition to writing games hosted throughout the month, you are also invited to attend a Google Hangouts session on June 14th, an official Flamestorming meet-up for any and all to attend!

Did everyone sign up for June? If not, we welcome and encourage you to follow the action, read, vote, and support your community mates! Remember, growth is sponsored by encouragement and feedback. At the Flame, we burn brightest together.

I’ve always been a writer in my heart. Since I was old enough to translate my thoughts into written words, I was telling stories. I’ve also always been an insufferable extrovert, despite all odds, so the storytelling didn’t stop at pen and paper. Growing up, I turned to every outlet possible to let it all out. At my best, I was joining clubs and taking part in activities. At my worst, I was making up tall tales and lying because I wanted something new to say. Kids, right?

As an adult, I’m still exploring. The next thing I really want to try is vlogging. For those of you who don’t spend your entire lives glued to your cell phones and computers, vlogging is a short term for “video blogging”. YouTube is crawling with talented vloggers with genuinely wonderful, funny, or insightful things to say. With enough searching, anyone can find their vlogger soul mate. In fact, I suggest you go try that. Anyway, I really want to try it. I’m always being told I have something to say. People have told me to do stand up comedy or public speaking or just basically anything that involves voicing my opinions or experiences to an audience. I don’t disagree, I think I’d probably be great at it.

So that’s my next journey — lights, camera, YouTube. But what to to vlog? Well, literally anything. I’m ridiculous enough, I could talk about anything. Food, makeup (fails, I’m amateur as heck), pets, single life (in the sense of being unmarried and on my own), feminism/humanism, city life, cycling, economics… That’s the thing about being a writer. We don’t even have to be ourselves all the time. We can be whomever we need to be, just to have something new to say.

How do you, as a writer, transform? How do you channel what you can already do, into something new you haven’t done yet? Do you find art is fluid, or can trying something new be difficult? Alternately, do you have a favorite vlogger to turn us onto?

Congratulations to our May contest winner, Shane Bell! The June contest is afoot; whether you’re signed up or just in to watch, click here to keep up.

Good morning! For those of us in the States, today is observed as Memorial Day, a 24-hour block once a year that we are meant to pause and show respect and gratitude for the men and women who have served our country's military. Understandably, not all people have clear feelings about military service, so today's chatter is not about service in general. It's about the difficulty of grasping something one has not experienced.

Appropriately, this month's theme is reality, and the question of its nature. Because every perception of reality is different, it is a dangerously fluid concept. The good news about that is, one hundred people could write about the same subject and we'd get one hundred very unique glimpses into the world. Some would even be so far a deviation from our own understanding that we may be forced to question our own perceptions altogether. I open up with the topic of military service simply because, even though I was raised by ex-military parents, I have never served and I know myself well enough to say I never will. It isn't a lack of patriotism, it's more a matter of knowing exactly how capable one's self is of accomplishing certain tasks. I was not built for service, so I know confidently that I will never serve. Because of that, I will never have the hands-on experience needed to truly understand what it means to be a soldier.

For me, not being able to experience something does not always mean I can't or won't write about it. Surely those of us who've written science fiction do not expect readers to believe we've flown in starships or had tea with alien life. I write about werewolves. I don't expect you to believe I've met any. But that's the double edge on imagination, isn't it? With the one blade, one can imagine into existence any and every world and situation possible. Yet, we turn the blade over and discover the opposite edge is a bit duller than we'd hoped, and we know it is from lack of use and care. The imagination can take us many places, but there are some experiences (like those of enlistment, as exampled above) that cannot be replicated without having lived it, or without a very intense course of research.

How do you approach topics you know you do not fully understand? How are you able to lend reality to a life you've never lived?

Remember to delve into your own answers to the question, What Is Reality?

Some sprints are available for your reading pleasure, as well as an archive of the sprint efforts thus far. Will you join us?

Good weekend, all? I hope so. I spent part of my Sunday sprinting on Google Hangouts with Tami, Cedar, and Kathy. This month’s contest will play host to a few different sprint events for those of you who need the exercise, or just thrive on prompt writing. Conveniently enough, it’s prompt writing I’d like to discuss.

Here at the Flame, we’re more than familiar with the idea of prompts and topics. We literally live off of them. Over the years, we’ve seen the gamut of prompt possibilities, ranging from open-ended one word prompts like “fire” and “fate”, to the challenge to begin all entries with a particular phrase. The Mod Hydra continues to strive to deliver the best variety we can provide, aiming to target each and every member of our diverse writing family.

I, personally, am easily prompted. I’ve learned this about myself over my years here at the Flame, both as a player and an administrator. The first prompt for which I ever wrote was “reap” back in 2009. My first mini-contest was a personalized four-part prompt provided to me by random selection: “cattle prod, dungeon, deus ex machina, written as a mystery”. It is worth noting that we also had a limit of 3k words, that mine reached 2,998, and I chose to be complete buffoon and add “the end”. I won. ;-) And my favorite “begin your entry with this sentence” prompt? “There it goes…” I didn’t win, but the entries were so diverse, it truly proved the myriad potential of even the most specific prompt.

I think the prompts to which we respond well say a lot about us as writers. Those of us who respond best to one word at a time need freedom and room to move. Those of us who thrive on selective challenges like the aforementioned mini-contest are thirsty for challenge and creative adversity. Those of us who can pull something from nothing regardless of topic? Well, I guess we’re just the floozies of the writing c0mmunity.

By what brand of prompt are you most easily inspired? Do you need to roam wild, unbound by bullet points and specifics, or do you need to be pushed to find a way to put a square peg through a round hole? What sort of insight to gain into yourself, as a writer, when you consider this question?

Click here to learn more about May’s prompt, and refer to paragraph one for links to information on sprints and more about Google+ Hangouts, a free service for all GMail users.

Good morning! Did everyone enjoy the sprint this weekend? I was otherwise engaged, unfortunately, but I am looking forward to being able to participate in another. So, let’s talk about sprints.

Where I come from (NaNoWriMo Land), a sprint is a pre-arranged span of time during which a group of writers joins to write furiously until the clock runs out, and then they compare notes and horror stories about word choice and panics over whether to use a colon or a semi-colon and really who even knows? Sprints can be hell. Really, they’re probably one of the Seven Circles. You’re just always caught in a sprint with no access to a Thesaurus so you just stare blankly at one sentence for the rest of eternity. Ouch.

I have a love/hate relationship with writing sprints. On the one hand, it’s easy enough to use a quick fifteen-minute window to test out a scene you’ve had churning in your head. On the other hand, if you’ve come unprepared, it becomes a uniquely trivial pursuit. I’ve found myself, on more than one occasion, filling the remaining time by very literally typing whatever comes into my head. The end result is typically terrifying and completely off-topic. I come into the sprint writing about soldiers in a foxhole and by the end they’ve adopted a gorilla and they’re bickering over whether to dress it in “people clothes”. It harkens me back to the days when my classmates would occupy the middle portions of ten-page essay reports by copying and pasting song lyrics and famous speeches into the body of the paper just to fill space. Their theory was, “The teacher doesn’t read them all the way through anyway.” I never tried that. I preferred borderline delirious rambling.

Are you a natural sprinter, or do your prefer the low-pressure marathon?

REMINDERS:

The May contest is a unique departure from our familiar form, and can be perused here for those of you who need reminding, or who would like to watch the fun.

The current sprint is up and accessible — come play!

This month, we plunge deep into the concept of reality, and what it means to each of us. So many factors in an individual can influence their perception of reality. We know this much to be true, but how much of it do we truly understand? A notorious BLUE AND BLACK dress (dang it) recently tore the internet to shreds, proving rather frustratingly that a literal reality can be influenced by light, angle, and the actual shape of one’s eye. If something literal and physical can be so fluid, can potential does the figurative hold?

The concept of reality actually haunts me. I don’t know if it’s mental illness or disability or if it’s just me, but there are frequent moments in which I question whether I am on the same page as the rest of the world. This month, I will be using these jarring experiences to create my vision of the prompt. I will parlay my phantoms into something I feel safe to share with others, and hopefully it will be relatable enough to quell my concerns that I am alone. (Now imagine how silly I’m gonna look if I don’t finish?)

In one thing, I know I am not alone. I am joined by hundreds of thousands of other writers who must wonder, at least on occasion, if a mental defect or simple difference is what makes them what they are, as an artist. The track record for mental illness is impressive through the ages of famous artists. We don’t all cut off our ears, but that doesn’t mean we’re hiding our demons as well as we think we are. Mental and spiritual disturbance shape our realities, and our realities shape our work. Unfortunately, there is no escaping this.

Even if you consider yourself completely mentally sound, how do you think the opposite affects talent? Would you argue that mental disease, defect, or glitch enhances the creative edge, or hinders it? Can there be brilliance without madness?

Keep an eye out for the Epilogue reading list, and click here to learn more about the May prompt!

ricochey: (Default)
([personal profile] ricochey Apr. 27th, 2015 10:38 am)

Good morn’, Flames.

The voting for Week Three is open.

The topic has been launched for Week Four — what shape does your Epilogue take?

The last few days of APAD are ticking away — check it out here.

My biggest writing project was meant to be a massive collaboration between myself and a friend. That friendship has since fallen apart and the rights (and work) have all been passed onto me. It’s looking like it’s gonna take at least five books to cover, so it’s going to be a huge undertaking every step of the way.

This happens to me fairly routinely. People come to me — “Hey, Cheyenne, you know how you can do that writing thing? Well how I about I tell you an idea and you just, like, write it?” It’s happened at least four times, and the pitch is identical every time. They tell me what they want, and I do the labor. The only reason the first one took on such a life of its own is because I contributed a great deal of the intellectual material, so it still feels like my own. The other endeavors, however, feel a lot like work.

The most recent project comes from my own boyfriend, who can write a bit, but apparently not enough. He has a brilliant mind and a vivid imagination, so stepping inside his ideas is always enjoyable. What isn’t enjoyable is trying to make sense of the timeline of his ideas. He’s one of those people who thinks “a guy shows up and saves everyone with a magic weapon” is sufficient to fill the bulk of 400 pages, because “that’s what happens!” It takes a lot of interrogation to get him to put fine detail on every single thought he has. As a writer (and a talker), I have difficulty tolerating his succinct nature. As a man of few words, he has difficulty understanding what my problem is. We’re a match made in heaven. I’m looking forward to the project, but this hang up may kill me.


Have you ever, or are you currently collaborating to complete a literary project? If not, have you ever considered it? Why or why not? What might be most difficult for you?

First thing’s first, Week Three is underway! Draw us toward your epic conclusion in ACT III.

April’s collection of poetry is still growing. Check it out here.

I consider myself a gifted writer. I have to, or I’d never share anything with anyone and you’d be reading a Chatter hosted by some other weirdo with a silly nickname. I like to think my strong point is short fiction, but I’m working on novel projects, so I’m hoping to hone that skill. I specify “fiction” because I’m not a non-fiction writer. I mean, I can write about myself in the sense of a blog entry, but to write a true memoir? I don’t know. I think my tendency toward makin’ stuff up would interfere at some point, such that the lines between fact and fairy tale would blur pretty dishonestly. My mother tells me it’s because we’re Irish. “We’re just full of blarney. We really can’t help it.”

So, alright then. I’m full of blarney. You’d think a person so full of blarney could put a talent like that to good use whenever the fancy strikes. After all, isn’t it the same drill, just applied to different subject matters or goals? Let me stop beating around the bush. See, there’s a new position open in my office and I’m trying t0 go for it. The application process requires a cover letter, and so I set about writing one. I didn’t even manage the first paragraph before I realized I was only spinning bull-spit and just barely representing myself truthfully. So, I tried again. On the second draft, there were more hard facts, but entirely too many superfluous words (kind of like the word superfluous, am I right?), and a lot of flowery language. It didn’t take me long to get frustrated.

Dry, straightforward reality just doesn’t appeal to me. It never has, and maybe that’s why I’m a writer. “I reject your reality and substitute my own.” Why? Because my version of events is far more colorful and interesting. Problem is, no prospective employer is going to use my walking-talking-human-Thesaurus skills to evaluate my eligibility for a desk job that requires, at best, only the ability to use spell check. Alas… the artist sabotages herself by doing the only thing she knows she’s good at.

Does your talent or style as a writer ever bleed into other parts of your life, with unwanted consequences? Does a tendency toward verboseness ever muddy the waters when all you need is to be blunt? Are they little inconveniences like an overly poetic cover letter, or truly disruptive complications?

Welcome to Week Three, my budding playwrights! Remember, April is a themed month, so if you need help understanding the goal, visit this link to read the preamble I presented before the prompt for Week One. We can also address questions in the comments, if you need a little clarification. To put it basically, we are dividing up the four weeks of April into four parts of a “play” (the entries do not have to be plays): ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, and Epilogue. Visit the aforementioned link for specifics!

Week Three: ACT III – “The Devil can cite scripture for his purpose.”

I should like to think I have not yet reached the third act of my life, but that I should be prepared for the idea that it is nearer than I anticipate. Time passes so quickly, and what seems suspended in poetic action today may come to swift and dramatic conclusion tomorrow. I hope the opening act and rising (but perhaps not thrilling) action of my life will lead to great purpose. The worst and most volatile part of standing upon the brink of my own unfolding destiny is having no clairvoyance for the details of its unfolding. So many dangerous and enticing traps lay before me, baited with whistles and siren songs. That I may be unable to resist sends a delightful tremble of terror up my spine. By what deceptions shall I be seduced? How will the lessons I learned in the Spring of my life armor me in the Fall? The blackened, blurry future is the proof that the trials we have faced until now have not been for empty value. It is by the scars of a life thus far that we can endure the new lashes of a life still to come. Or, is it bright unknown that softens us anew and keeps us blind, despite our journeys through the undergrounds of adversity and toil?  

 

 The tradition of act three is to move down through the falling action and arrive at the conclusion. I challenge you to imply the end is near, but hold me waiting another week to know for sure. Are you already a master of cliffhangers? Ensnare us so cruelly that our comments are devoted to begging for Week Four spoilers. The end draws nigh!

 

Remember that entries are meant to complement one another as a series, and that the concepts of “Act III” and the Shakespearean quote provided are for inspiration and do not necessarily represent a requirement for content or word use.

 

The poll is below. Week Three closes at 2345EDT on Sunday, April 26th (my birthday!) --  make me proud!

 

http://brigitsflame.polldaddy.com/s/april15-week3-act3

Happy Monday, Flames! We have some fun stuff goin’ on.

The second topic of April is up — are you ready for Act II? Be on the lookout for the reading list and voting poll from Act I!

APAD is still afoot! Contribute to our effort to collect A Poem a Day during the whole month of April.

I carry my flash drive with me wherever I go. I’m like one of those kids who carries their bank cards in the same dangling lanyard as their bus pass. I can’t help but have it with me at all times. I have had actually paranoid delusions about my house burning to the ground with my flash drive inside. I worry about the animals too, of course, but my flash drive is definitely up there! I’ve been working harder than I’ve ever had to against writer’s block, just to get through ONE of the books in a series I dream of completing. In an effort to change the game a little, I used my junk paper pile to print off everything I have so far. I combined the pages into a binder and separated them by section/topic. The idea is that my natural inclination to edit hardcore with a red pen on physical paper will kick in and put my creativity into overdrive. I got so into the idea, I even made a hard copy binder for a second project of mine, and for a joint project my boyfriend would like to pursue.

Just seeing my book (or what I have so far) in print like that… it was a great feeling. It really helped me envision what it will be like to have a real, finished manuscript. I’ve already taken a red pen to some parts, changed up a few big chunks of the story, and whisked up some new ideas and plans. Something about taking a red pen to actual paper just felt more like I was taking something apart and putting it back together the way it needed to be. Editing from the computer is definitely quicker, but I think I missed the idea of having “drafts” — instead of mistakes going away, you get to keep copies of where your work started, so that you can truly compare it to h0w far it’s come. I am hopeful this means I’ve found the trick for jump-starting my brain… or whatever organ it is that writes books.

By what method do you inject a dose of adrenaline into your drive to complete a project? Also, do you edit more effectively by computer, or by pen and paper?

Welcome to Week Two, Flames! Remember, April is a themed month, so if you need help understanding the goal, visit this link to read the preamble I presented before the prompt for Week One. We can also address questions in the comments, if you need a little clarification. To put it basically, we are dividing up the four weeks of April into four parts of a “play” (the entries do not have to be plays): ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, and Epilogue. Visit the aforementioned link for specifics!

ACT II – “Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, for wise men say it is the wisest course.”

Ah, character development. Story arc. Plot bunnies everywhere. As it is with the second act of any good story, the second act of my life has thus been the most riddled with trial. I consider these chapters of my life, between gaining independence and learning to thrive, to be Act II of my (hopefully) long years upon this earth. I expect my own second act will be a lot more boring, however, than your own.

Just four short years ago, I couldn’t have supported myself if I tried. I was living off of those around me, sometimes in the worst ways. In 2011, I took the first job that ever meant anything to me and everything changed. One insanely out-of-character decision at a time, I began to evolve. I created and took on new responsibilities for myself. I sought out challenges that had previously been terrifying to even consider. I endured hardships with stubborn bravery and deliberately took note of what I had to learn as I plowed through. For all that, here I stand today, so different a woman than the one I was in 2011 that people have actually told me I’m unrecognizable. That is simply narcotic.

My second act is about personal growth and learning the courage to continue to move forward. How will your second act bring us closer to your story and the character(s) in it? Take me through the developing action of your tale. What kind of story has this become? Am I hopeful for this world’s future, or fearful of what comes next? I challenge you to draw me in so deeply, I see this world through your characters’ eyes.

 

 

Remember that entries are meant to complement one another as a series, and that the concepts of “Act II” and the Shakespearean quote provided are for inspiration and do not necessarily represent a requirement for content or word use.

The poll is here!

 A very long-winded and verbose man once said (and I paraphrase), “All the world’s a stage.” In this month of April, I want to explore this concept, as well as celebrate a birthday I share with the very man who spoke these influential words. On April 26th of 1564, William Shakespeare entered the world. Four hundred and twenty-three years later, I did the same. So, Bill’s got several centuries of legacy on me, but let’s not assume that makes me less impressive by default. It isn’t just about birthdays, of course. There is some poignancy here! Though I have only had twenty-eight years upon this earth, I already feel as though I have moved through so many chapters of experience. Setting aside the fact that I have (on many occasions) expressed my desire to have my life play out like a musical upon a stage, I have often felt as though all life truly is a work of theatrical storytelling. I’m not sure who’s benefiting from it, but I certainly hope they’re amused. Maybe that’s why writers write, because we’re sick of being only players.

Shakespeare remains one of the most recognizable playwrights of this world’s history. Even for people whose interests bear no column labeled “theater”, Shakespeare is a household name. The concept of the Three Act play, however, is more commonly understood by members of the creative community. Let’s not assume all of us have an interest in the stage and move quickly through an explanation of the classic format of the Three Act Structure. Traditionally, Act I (or “exposition”) is meant to introduce the elements of the script, and build the story. This act should also introduce at least one central conflict. Act II takes us through the main action and inevitable “rising action” of the story, building to the peak (also, the “climax”), of the tale. In the movie world, this would be where we see the biggest car chase or the most explosions. By Act III (which may also harbor the true climax of the story), we arrive at the “falling action”, leading to the ultimate closure of the tale. In most writing, we refer to this as “conclusion”. This month, we will be writing based on this classic structure.

Does that sound too simple? That’s because I’m not done. The Three Act Structure is old hat for most of us, but in April we’ll be breaking the acts up into four weeks of writing: Act I, II, III, and Epilogue. You are free and encouraged to interpret this however you choose to, but there is one clear rule: Your four entries should work together as a cooperative series of installments, complementing one another. If possible or preferred, they should also be chronological. This stipulation is not required, but is suggested. In tandem with the three acts and the epilogue, I will provide quotations from Ol’ Billy himself to inspire and drive you. Ready? Curtain up.
 

ACT I: “We know what we are, but know not what we may be.”

When I came into this world, apart from having no language or motor skills for a bit, I had no general idea of what to expect from this crazy ride called life. I was completely raw material, malleable to a fault. There are a handful of wonderful years at the very beginning that protect you from the terrifying prospect of becoming an actual person at some point. No one ever knows to appreciate those years, however, and all too soon we thrust forward without warning. I think you can identify the cusp between “just got here” and “just realized it’s going somewhere someday” by looking back on your earliest memories, and choosing a median age. Before that, we are so swept up in simply living, there is no time available for holding onto how things happened. By the time I was no longer in Preschool but rather attending Big Kid School (that’s K-6 in my part of world), I knew something was up. I was on the verge of a journey, and I had absolutely no idea what to make of it.

In Week One, I ask you to open your tale. Show me your world and the person, people, or creatures in it. Help me see and understand the surroundings. Will I be able to grasp where this all leads, or will there be a learning curve? An immediate element of mystery? I challenge you to capture me within those first precious moments after the velvet rises slowly from the stage.


Submission closes Sunday, April 12th at 2345EDT. The poll is here.

Good sunshiney morning, Flames. March is one of our special five-week months, so we have an Art Contest Mini for your entertainment! Don't forget to keep your eyes open for Week Four voting as well.

Netflix has a habit of giving me exactly what I want. Most recently, it gave me one of my favorite television series in its entirety: 3rd Rock from the Sun. For those of you who are not familiar (for which you should be ashamed), 3rd Rock is about a team of aliens who land on Earth with the common goal of studying human nature. Using this simple premise, the show examines completely average topics but, of course, makes them hilarious and points out (even more glaringly than life already does) just how ridiculous so many of our human customs seem. In this episode, S4:E16 "Superstitious Dick", the High Commander, Dick Solomon, discovers human superstition when he is given a chain letter. I had forgotten all about chain letters, despite the fact that Facebook and Tumblr still circulate a certain version of such a thing. I never believed in them, for which I am grateful. I don't think I could have handled the psychological stress caused by realizing I had improperly forwarded such a thing.

That is not to say, however, that I am never superstitious. My superstitions just happen to be pretty unique to me, as opposed to following a social trend like letters, broken mirrors, or black cats. Honestly, I think a lot of it is just an extension of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, with which I live. I'm pretty sure the fear of leaving the mustard in the wrong slot inside my refrigerator door will cause me a terrible comeuppance is not a socially acceptable superstition. I am, however, rather fascinated by old folk legends and wives' tales, particularly those with a magic(k)al background. To this day, I smirk to myself when a broom falls in the kitchen, and I am never surprised when unexpected company arrives that same day.

Are you superstitious? If so, will you share a few of your beliefs or suspicions? If not, why? Do you consider superstition to be legitimate, or a little hokey?
ricochey: (Default)
([personal profile] ricochey Mar. 23rd, 2015 07:10 am)

Goooooood morning, Brigit’s Flame!

The final topic for March is up and it’s delicious. How will you encounter The Devil I Have Not Met?

I have both a sentence AND an anecdotal question for you this morning. First, let me tell you how I spent my weekend. I went out Friday night with a friend to watch her have her septum pierced, and now I am obsessed with the idea of having my ears redone.

In 2010, I have 10g horseshoes in both ears. I was working up to a 6g because that’s where all the good jewelry starts. While visiting friends, I had an accident which led to the left one being RIPPED OUT by a car door. It took ten stitches to put my earlobe back together and eventually I let the right one close up on its own. I hadn’t considered starting over. Now it’s all I can think about.

I’m not one for body art, at least not for myself. For one thing, I don’t like needles. For another, I don’t like permanence, commitment, or damaging small parts of me irreversibly. So, ya know, piercings and tattoos are beyond me. They’re so beautiful though, when well executed. I always think someday I’ll be brave and inspired enough to have something done, but I ALWAYS punk out. I’m just a big weenie.

Are you a fan of body modification? Do you have any pieces you’d like to tell us about, or even show us? As with many, is it an addiction for you, or just a whimsy?

I also have a starter sentence for you! If you don’t remember the rules, just make sure you’re only contributing ONE sentence at a time, and that you’re allowing at least two turns in between your last turn and your current one. Here we go!: “I awoke to the shrill sound of something scraping along the length of the tall, glass windows…”

ricochey: (Default)
([personal profile] ricochey Mar. 16th, 2015 07:05 am)

The Week Two voting poll has opened, and now it’s up to us to choose our favorites! Remember to offer feedback and encouragement where able (and willing) — we’re here to grow!

 

Next on the table, the Week Three topic is up, and I feel like it is just BEGGING me to jump in. Will you Live to Tell the Tale?


 

A few days ago, I posted the following status to Facebook:
 

“I dreamt Daniel (my boyfriend) and I were holed up in an underground base with a bunch of other survivors in a high tech research and combat training facility during a zombie apocalypse. The scourge had evolved to greater strength, speed, and cognition. In the base, we were safe. We could train, study, and live without the constant vigilance we’d needed above ground (except when we went out scouting or hunting to thin the numbers), and we were alright.
 

Then the ground above us began to shake. The scourge was clawing, scraping, and gnawing down through the earth to get to us, and now they were directly above our heads. The alliance we thought we had with the people in the white coats broke in an instant — they piled into an elevator tube and disappeared, bidding us good luck as the ceiling continued to tremor.
 

People began to scream and scatter. Daniel and I, armed and always ready, stood side by side, eyes up. I looked into his face. “I love you,” I said resolutely. He met my eyes and shook his head, having found the only fear left in my face. “I’m not worried,” he said, pulling me into a kiss just as the metal above us began to groan.
 

And I woke up.”

 

This isn’t the first dream I’ve ever had that made me want to write. Beyond the fact that it reflects some things I am actually processing in real life (only vaguely metaphorically), it also speaks to the tendency of my subconscious to bully me into writing more often. I suppose, if you should listen to anyone, it’s the part of your mind that knows you better than you do.



 

Do your dreams ever inspire you?

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