welcome readers & writers! in this cyber space please find: + a photo writing prompt + a place to post your creative writing response (poem, memoir, short story or the like) to the prompt + a community of readers and fellow writers excited to read your writing + morsels of genuine fiction, poetry & creative non-fiction as the blog is updated. share a response as often as you'd like. everyday discoveries from my life, captured on film, will serve as prompts. this is not a place where we will critique one another's work; however, words of encouragement or praise for writers who share their work are most welcome. writers, share your story, poem or creative non-fiction response to the photo by clicking on comments; word count is flexible. cheers! demery

Sunday, August 22, 2010


welcome readers & writers. hope the weekend is treating you gently and joyfully.  many thanks to bess and ash for your help with creating a school supply list for the school of hard knocks yesterday!  
today's photo (and this adorable little VW bug itself when i saw it last saturday night) inspired me to share another excerpt from my recently completed novel, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. in this scene, Glory (my main character) is remembering how she came to be the owner of BB, her Gram's VW Rabbit. 
          "No need to walk me out,” Glory told Mrs. Hoffman. Glory was self-conscious about her car, an ’83 Volkswagen Rabbit; Gram had handed it down as a high school graduation present. Glory loved it so much that she planned to drive it until the wheels fell off, which might happen sooner than later, as BB’s odometer had just passed 229,000 miles. “BB” was the name Glory had given the car when she was four.  One day, as the story went, Gram had asked Glory to help her carry some things out to “the Rabbit.”  The next time Gram was over Glory insisted on carrying Gram’s purse to “the Bunny.” Gram added “Brown,” for the car was nut-brown in color, and the name stuck. BB needed repairs fairly often, and the parts were sometimes hard to come by. But the same mechanic had been working on it for years, and he loved the car as much as Glory did. He’d replaced the engine a year ago, and Glory continued to add to her auto savings each month for whatever was needed next. Happily, she’d found that repairs were still cheaper than payments and insurance on a new car.
          She relished the feel of the tatty leather seats warm on her thighs and back end when she came out of air-conditioned buildings, which in North Carolina was the case for at least half of the year. And BB still smelled of Gram, who was gone now, something like hard cover library books, spearmint gum, and the faintest smell of cigarettes from Gram’s smoking days. Glory always smiled when she remembered the time she’d dumped all of Gram’s cigarettes into the toilet; she’d been in second grade and had listened in horror at a school assembly while the school nurse explained in full detail the health hazards of smoking. At the dual discovery of a missing carton of cigarettes and a clogged toilet, Gram had been furious. But she hadn’t raised her voice even a little bit. And it gave Gram something to think about, she’d said - when she calmed down and gathered Glory up in a soft hug. Within a year or two, she’d finally steeled herself to quit. Spearmint gum, Gram’s favorite, had become the proxy.  

what about you?  have any great stories, poems, or memories to share about a favorite car? 250(ish) words or less - click on comments below.  i love to read your work.  come write with me?


  1. “You mean it’s mine?” asked Jimmy, his head swishing from the car to Mark and back again.

    “Yep, all yours.” said Mark smiling.

    “But how? Why? I don’t understand.” said Jimmy.

    “Well it’s like this, I don’t need it anymore and I don’t want to sell it to some stranger so I wanted you to have it. I know you will look after it and that will keep me happy.”

    “Why won’t you need it anymore? Are you going away somewhere?” asked Jimmy.

    “Yeah, something like that.”

    “Will it be for long?”

    Mark took a long deep breath before answering and stared off into the distance. He stood like that for a while, not answering.

    “Mark? Are you OK? Is everything OK?” asked Jimmy.

    Mark seemed to snap back to the car. His expression had become very sullen and slightly sad for a while but now he had regained its usual happy demeanor.

    “Yeah, yeah Jim, everything is fine. Nothing to worry about.” said Mark. “Here are the keys and the papers. Why don’t you take her for a ride?”

    Another car was approaching slowly.

    “Now?” asked Jimmy.

    “Yeah now. No time like the present.” said Mark, looking towards the other car.

    “OK! Come on!”

    “Oh no, you need to make your first trip in her a solo trip. So you and her can get acquainted!” Mark said with a wink. He slapped him on the back, slightly shoving him to the car.

    “OK. I’ll see you here in 15 minutes” shouted Jimmy as he drove off.

    “Yep…see you.” said Mark distractedly as he walked towards the other car, never to be seen again.

  2. Good morning. I am lost. I have been everywhere including Mexico, Canada and many parts of the USA. Somewhere along the way everything changed, and I stayed the same. Look at me. I think I am beautiful and fun. Almost everyone who spends any real time with me agrees. We have the best time hitting the road, wind rushing, just taking in the world. But lately I have been here a lot. Really boring. And a little sad. Seriously, I still look good and would just like someone to play with. Make me feel like I belong. Like I still belong in this world. With you? Baby, we could go place together you and me.

  3. Penny sniffed and rubbed a tear away from her eye. A passing semi-truck blared its horn and rumbled off into the distance, reminding her of how alone she was.

    It was stupid to drive twelve hours to profess her love to Samuel, she'd known that before she left. She'd expected his shock, his shuttered expression, his distance. What she hadn't expected was him to haul her out to her VW Bug and stuff her inside it.

    "Get out of here," he'd said.

    "But I love you, can't we talk about this?" she'd asked, desperate and hating it.

    "No," she said aloud to herself now. "He actaully said 'no.'"

    Still reeling from the sting of rejection, and the pang of loss, she sipped the fountain Coke she'd purchased at the convenient store, prepared to stay awake for the long, lonely twelve hour trip home.

    As she rounded the driver's side, however, a familiar sound echoed behind her. The low, gutteral rumble of a motorcycle. She heard it stop, heard its rider's boots hit the cement. She refused to turn around. Couldn't do it. Couldn't face him.

    "Penny," Samuel's voice, low and rumbling, warmed her. "Honey, I'm sorry."