welcome

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

Thursday, November 25, 2010

gratified


happy thanksgiving, readers & writers!
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i am deeply grateful for so much, and very near to the top of the list this year is that i've discovered more fully this passion for writing. following the advice for aspiring writers, i started this blog. i had no idea what a joy it would be to write and read with you all! i never expected that the blogging community would be so affirming and nurturing of one another. thank you, thank you. blessings on your day. i'll be back on monday with a regular post. until then, feel free to write if you'd like - or just eat. eating is good!

1 comment:

  1. They were laughing downstairs, completely unaware that I was up here alone. It was by choice. For ten years it had been the same. Funny how no one seemed to notice the absences. No comments when I disappeared for hours at a time. I felt like I didn't exist... to them. And since I had cultivated that it was only my own fault. How could they know that each day I held off the demons and dark evils of the earth? That each day I sacrificed my own soul a bit to hold at bay the ugliest things. Things that knew my name... my desires... my fears. I stared back at them, defiant. But they knew also that I was weakening. Ever so slowly. Each day. I could smell them now... and I suspect they could now smell me. And this emboldened them. The struggles were exhausting, leaving me so weary I could hardly climb down the stairs or join for a meal. Some day soon, it would be time to pass along this task. Task. Even ten years later I called it a task as had been taught to me. It was no task. It was the long slow dive into the pits of hell.

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