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, September 19, 2010


welcome readers & writers!  
i took the photo for today's prompt at an old fashioned toy shop here in austin, where most of the toys are made on site. i'd love to read your take on the photo - short story, poem or creative non-fiction. click on comments below to share it, 250(ish) words or less. here's my spin:

Sometimes I lament not having the eyes to see magic anymore, like I did when I was small. My little eyes -- and my mind and heart too, I suppose -- could look at a simple doll house like this and, in a flash, see a whole life to go with it; this sweet little girl in a pink striped skirt would have a name and a laugh and a voice, problems, friends, solutions. The Fisher Price farmer and his farm could take up a whole afternoon of play for me. I'd flip him out of bed, so eager to start his day, and help him water his garden, feed his cow, brush his horse, go to town in the buggy. 

I keep my Little House on the Prairie books in my bedside table because as a child they were my favorites. How many hours did I spend reading about Ma helping Laura and Mary make candy out of molasses and snow, or Mary getting her very own calling cards when the family moved to town? But when I open the books now the words seem so big, the pages so few. The sentences seem almost wooden, sparse and plain.   

Where did they go, my eyes to see? And where is that heart of mine that loved to play? My littlest child asks me almost daily if I will play with him. I try sometimes, though often I nudge him toward an activity he can do on his own. But sometimes I surrender and get lost with him in another world: school or veterinarian or I'm the baby and he's the parent. It's usually not very long before I'm sneaking a look at my watch and saying "five more minutes..." The moment those words leave my mouth I think the blinders must fall again, limiting my sight, hindering what my eyes can see.

come write with me!  

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