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

Monday, August 16, 2010


welcome readers & writers. hope your weekend allowed for moments of rest and renewal.  i enjoyed reading your self-help spoof advice, and your "messaged" reflections - thanks for writing with me! more glad news for write away! yesterday, author kathryn magendie found this blog via a tweet (on twitter). she read my novel excerpt and was kind enough to take the time to send positive feedback - which made my day. 'tis the power of social networking. kathryn, a southern writer and women's fiction novelist, has two novels out (and one on the way), both of which have received high praise from critics.  i'm looking forward to reading her work.
today's photo prompt is one i shot on saturday evening, looking into a downtown restaurant from the street. come write with me! what's your short story, poem or creative non fiction spin on the photo? 250(ish) words or less. here's mine: 
A wind tunnel whoosh of air conditioning undermines the soothing voice of an NPR commentator. Pulling into a parking space, Marnie tilts the rear view and pouts her lips for a touchup of gloss. She thinks how much work sucked today, and of her head, which is beginning to ache. The glimmer of late afternoon sun bounces off of the wine glasses hanging in the restaurant window, and she finds herself impatient for that first tangy sip of chilled white wine. The wine is all she's looking forward to tonight; it's the conversation that must accompany it that she dreads. In preparation, she'd downloaded When Harry Met Sally to watch during her lunch hour. She'd fast forwarded to the restaurant scene. No, not that restaurant scene. The other one, toward the end of the movie. For as many times as she's pictured it - that she and Kenneth would sit in silence while he chomps obnoxiously away on his salad and she takes dainty bites until they both say aloud, "it was a mistake" - she knows it won't happen this way. Because it really was a mistake. Sure she'd fantasized about their friendship evolving into romance. But the moment his dry lips brushed hers she'd known unequivocally that he was not the one for her. She just hadn't been able to summon the courage to pull away, to risk wounding his dignity, this man she loves. As a friend. And now this awkward misery. Inside, the hostess shows her to their table; he's already there, waiting with a silly grin on his face.

can't wait to read your work. just click on comments below to share it.


  1. [Pan to open window, showing young woman working at kitchen sink. Shift focus to inside kitchen, shot just over her right shoulder. Zoom out as she brushes away bangs with soapy, warm hand. Zoom back in as she dries another champagne glass.]

    Revere the deep silence of 2 a.m. after last party-goers leave and two friends take separate couches in the living room. Smile at the thought that they've passed out in their jeans, one with his sneakers on, the other with precariously dangling sandals. Shudder briefly at the cold night wind rustling lace curtains. Pull sweater tighter. Leave small damp finger prints behind.

    Smile thinking of the older guy who tried so hard to impress. Laugh softly recalling the eyes of the geek staring. Sigh at the remembrance of gentle letting down. Hope he's not too heartbroken.

    Wash another glass. Grimace as two glasses clink into each other. Remember they're crystal. Try harder not to brush them against one another next time.

    Think about leftover cake and forgotten jacket. Remember to return.

    Turn off faucet. Creep out of kitchen and up steep, creaky stairs. Turn off hallway light.

    [Pan to open window, showing young woman stepping tenderly into pajamas. Shift focus to pillow level, shot just over her left shoulder. Zoom out as she leans over to shut off the light with clammy, dry hands. Zoom back in as she falls asleep.]

  2. This is exactly how the view looked from the cafe barstool. What happened next defies explaination, so decide for yourself. The window exploded. As it did, I saw each crack and glint expand ever slower until the whole process was like watching syrup dribble down a bottle. The glasses shattered, and it was beautiful to watch. The curves separated and broke apart and tiny pieces hung in the air lazily drifting in all directions. I was mesmerized by the symphony of destruction playing out in front of my face until the first tiny piece touched and then ripped into my cheek. So slowly. It was unexpected and sharp and very real. I swatted at my cheek and fell backwards hitting the ground fast and hard. And then everything sped up, moved fast and a shower of glass and bits rained down upon me. As I rolled over, the person sitting behind me slumped, blood pulsing out of a head wound. A hole. Looking back out the window it had to have been a bullet meant for me. I still don't know what happened and how it happened. But my life was extended that day. Twice since I have almost been killed, by a car and a fire. And twice more the world changed, or maybe I did, and I was saved. How do you test a theory when it requires mortal danger? Do you? I sure as hell don't.

  3. She looked up from her book, careful not to let to much of her face come up over the top of the book. she could see his car through the window. Steffani had seen this guy following her for about a month now. he often flowed in and out of her schedule daily. but every time she made her daily trip to the restaurant owned by her older brother, he showed up sitting there, watching, nonchalantly glancing at her. She wasnt sure what it was that he wanted. her mother's priceless recipes? to get close to her, to get close to her brother, and get into the family business. or did he know about those wedding glasses she had to deal with last month??... steffani only knew one thing. she had to get rid of him. she had watched carefully and figured out his cycle of the ways he looked. just after he looked away from her, she made a break for it. running through the kichen and out the back door, but very careful not to make a big fuss or disruption. she climbed into her brother's car after leaving a note for him on the back door. she made her way down a back alley, wondering for a moment why her brother's car wasnt locked.
    just before she could make the turn to get on the highway, she saw him. the mysterious man in the car. he was following her!!!
    then four cars boxed her in and forced her to go down an old path to an abandoned house. at least three men got out of each of the cars. she tried to think everything through, pondering to figure what it was they wanted. then mystery man got out of his car. he had a gun. he pointed it to her head. "where are they?" he spoke so quietly, with a voice so scratchy and painful to listen to, she could barely understand him. " im sorry but i really have NO IDEA what you are talking about!!!" "TELL ME," he screamed, causing steffani's ears to ring. "or else" his s slurring and drawing out because of his awful lisp. " yeah. sure," i started, totally sarcastic,"what could you possibly have tha...."
    but i never got to finish my sentence.. because then a huge, and totally creepy looking guy got out of mystery man's car. but thats not what made me stop speaking. i didnt finish my sentence because being forced out of the car in front of him was my brother!