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This is a personal Challenge to write 500 words a day. Join me on my Journey. |
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The Challenge: Write 500 words every day for a year.
Can I do it? Join me and find out! |
 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Prompt: Honestly, evaluate the way you respond to a crisis situation. Are you happy with the way you react? I've been pretty lucky in my life. I've never been in an actual crisis situation. The closest I've been to crisis situations would be a couple car accidents, and when I sprained my ankle a while back. I wouldn't classify either of those things as 'crisis', but they're all I've got to go on. When I was 18, I got my drivers license. About a month after I got it, I got into a car accident. My reaction wasn't the best in that case. I had been lost at the time, and I was still very new to driving. I ended bawling and the poor tow truck guy had to deal with me. That wasn't fun for either of us because I was lost, and he didn't know where my house was. After a lot of trial and error, we managed to get back to my parents house, then he almost drove off with all my tip money from work still stashed in the car. All in all, I wasn't pleased with my performance back then. The second accident I was in was better in terms of my reaction. This was a couple of years ago, and I didn't cry. I was driving and a semi pulled out of a gas station parking lot and I bounced off his bumper like a bug. Thankfully I didn't get totally squished, but it didn't hurt the guy's truck at all. I handled that one pretty well. It's funny how we have conditioned responses that catch us off guard. The poor guy felt really bad that he smashed up my car and my automatic response was "It's alright." Then I had to amend it to, "Well, it's not alright, but we're both okay, so everything is fine." As for the ankle, my mom convinced me to go to the hospital. No panic that time either. So I think I would handle myself alright in the event of a serious crisis.  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** July 3 - Imagining a New Way to Read, One 3D-Printed Book Here's part: Blind and visually impaired children will now be able to experience classic picture books like Goodnight Moon and Harold and the Purple Crayon with the help of 3D printing technology. See complete link here: http://mashable.com/2014/07/03/3d-printed-book/ This is a great idea, and an innovative way to use a new technology. By giving picture books raised images, visually impaired children are able to use both touch and their parents voice to 'see' the story. I like the fact that they want to make individual books for each child, but I wonder how expensive the process is. This idea plays strongly to the idea that each child is unique and will have a different style of learning. I think that this is something that should be expanded. It's been proven that toddlers learn best when you are able to engage more than just one sense in the learning. Books like these would be perfect for both sighted and visually impaired children. Right now, there are books that incorporate different touch textures for toddlers. This could expand on that. I can see how it might be used to teach reading too. Raising the letters up and adding a texture will help bring touch into the learning experience. A child can run their finger over each letter while a parent spells the words out. This technology has a lot of potential, and I hope to see it expanded. Word Count: 525 |
| ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** July 2 - While walking in the park one day...Who do you encounter? What memories enter your mind? While walking in the park one day, I see my husband chasing my son. They giggle together and the game goes on and on. First Paul chases Shane, then the tables are turned, and Shane chases Paul. A fond smile curves my lips as I watch the pair. They have to be careful around the swings so they don't get kicked, but aside from that, the park is their playground. In the distance dogs bark, and a group of older children play a game of Soccer. I remember my childhood. We lived in a small valley outside of Reno, NV. The only things in the valley were houses, a grade school, the 7-11 gas station, and a park. Funny thing was, the kids never went to the park. Why would we? We were surrounded on all sides by high mountains. They were our playground. We would run wild out in the wilderness, and never felt any fear of getting lost or bit by snakes. At that age, we were all young immortals, and the day was ours. Summers were full of adventures in bike riding, walking the dogs, and exploring. Winters were dizzy whirlwinds of sledding down mountains that would make adults swallow their tongues in horror. I miss the mountains. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Prompt: You are locked in a room with your greatest fears. Describe what is in the room. For a long time I didn't realize I was awake. Open or closed, my eyes saw the same thing. Darkness. What happened? I couldn't remember. The air held a damp mustiness that tickled the back of my tongue and made me want to cough. Silence pressed down around me as oppressive as the untouched blackness. Again I probed my faulty memory, and found a ragged hole where the past should have been. The last thing I was able to dredge up was of getting up that morning and heading to the store. After that...nothing. Nothing, but waking up here. Here in the darkness. Swallowing hard, I pushed up into a sitting position. My head swam, and I almost gave up and toppled over again. Then something tickled across the back of my hand and I bit back a scream. Whatever fog remained in my head instantly vanished. I rubbed harshly at the back of my hand, but my skin kept crawling. With all my other senses off line, my skin had become a single throbbing organism that strained for any input. I could feel each hair on the back of my neck lift. My skin was alive with that creeping sensation, playing phantom feelings down my flesh insisting that things were crawling on me. Something tickled over my cheek, and this time I did scream when I brought my hand up and crushed a small multi-legged body. The room seemed to come alive with the things, and it didn't matter if they were real, or only imagined, the result was the same. Another scream. I began swatting at the creatures, panic destroyed logic as I stood and tried to run in the darkness. Pain exploded in my head as I ran face first into a wall. Darkness. I never felt the arachnids work to spin me a silken shroud. Word Count: 520 |
| ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Prompt -- In your opinion, what is the best 21st century romance film and why? (If you haven't seen a romantic movie in the past 14 years, then use a 21st century book - and get out to the movies soon!) Truth be told, I'm not a big fan of romance. In this, my tastes run more towards male. I like movies with big explosions, big special effects, big...you get the idea. There have been a few romances that I've liked, but sadly, they're all older than the 21st century. I don't even remember the last time I saw a romance, so I went online and looked up the top 50 romance movies of the 2000s. To my surprise, I have seen a romance, and it was top of the list! I even liked it, though if asked to classify it, I never would have labeled it a romance. That movie is...wait for it...Wall-E! Does anyone else agree that this isn't a romance? Yes, there was a romantic element with the two robots, but I don't think that the movie should be classified as a romance. Thinking about it now, what makes a romance? It has to have the boy meets girl, (or boy meets boy, girl meets girl) something should try and keep them apart, and at the end they should be together. So, I suppose Wall-E could be a romance. It still doesn't fit for me though. Not even because it's an animated film because there are tons of animated romances. Beauty and The Beast, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty. Well, pretty much anything by Disney really. Maybe it's just the political overtones that overshadow the romance for me. I don't know. What do you think? Romance or something else? ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** It's War Chest Tuesday. Here's the prompt -- July 1: What does forgetting mean to you? Forgetting, for me, means inconvenience. I don't forget the big, important things. What I forget are those little things that make having forgotten them a hassle. Though, one time I did forget to check the expatriation date on my Passport. I didn't look at it until two weeks before we were set to go on our Cruise, and I almost lost my mind in panic trying to get it renewed. We had to do a rush and everything. That was the worst moment of forgetfulness I'd ever experienced. In general, the things I forget aren't things that will ruin my life. They're the things that make me have to turn the car around and go back to the house. My biggest problem are things I tell myself to remember. Have you ever done that? You put something on the counter by the door and tell yourself, "Look, see that bill, DON'T FORGET IT!" And, promptly the next day, I forget it and have to go back to get it. There are times I tell myself a hundred times. The night before, I remind myself. Then the next morning while I'm brushing my teeth, I remind myself again, letting out the dogs? Remind myself. All the way up until I'm in the car, and driving away, only to have forgotten at the very last second. Moments like that make me crazy. It's almost like my brain is doing it on purpose just to mess with me. The worst is when my husband tells me right before we leave, and I go to get it, get distracted by something, and totally forget what I went in the house to get. Not fun. Word Count: 530 |
30 - Day Blogging Challenge (June/Unofficial Month) Prompt by Charlie ~   -- What is your most controversial opinion? Why do you stick by it despite its unpopularity? Well, there are opinions I don't care to touch with a ten foot pool on my blog, so I'll leave those cans of worms on the shelf. I do have an odd opinion that I don't think would be the most popular thing ever. I'm looking forward to the end of the world. I want the zombie apocalypse, or for a solar flare to destroy all the electricity, or aliens to come and try and enslave us all. I have no illusions about my survival value. There's no doubt that I'd be dead by the third day, but it's still something I want to see. Why? Perhaps for the same reason that small boys kick over ant hills. I want that chaos, the utter shattering of the status quo. Up, work, home, writing, bed, up, work, home, writing, bed. I might not live long, but the end of the world would be one hell of an adventure, if nothing else. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Prompt: These are my final words. In many movies, characters are given that moment right before they die to say their final words. What will be your final words? Optional Bonus: What are the circumstances of your dramatic demise? Pain sent daggers through my ruined chest as I tried to keep breathing. Not pleasant. The whole day had been going like this, and I knew from the moment I woke up and stepped into a cold pile of cat vomit that I should have crawled back into bed. Against all common sense, and better judgment, I scraped the gunk off my foot and started my day. The next breath is shorter than the last, each becoming more difficult. Far in the distance, I hear the mournful wail of a siren. Too far away, and too late to do any good. A bitter smile touches my bloody lips at the thought. Cops and ambulances are never around when you need them. I blink dumbly up into the young frightened face now hovering over mine. Right, the boy. I'd almost forgotten about him. At least he looks alright. That's good. This would have sucked so much worse if he'd been crushed along with me. "Ma'am, are you alright?" I wanted to laugh. What a stupid question, but he was frightened and even though shoving him out of the way of the oncoming bus wasn't the best idea I'd ever had, I'm still glad I did it. "Don't...think so...kid." Even those few words sent lances of brittle agony through me. I try to smile for him, but I can tell it isn't working as well as I'd have liked. I really hope he doesn't get sick on me, which would be the perfect end to a perfect day. "Don't die, come on, you can't die. Help's coming, okay?" He's starting to panic, not that I blame him. If I'd been in his shoes, I'd panic too. "Such is life." Such is death. The next breath doesn't come, and distantly I feel his hand gripping mine. Word Count: 538 |
30 - Day Blogging Challenge (June/Unofficial Month) Free write: "We were all born too late to explore the earth, and too early to explore the stars." - Saphiric. Would you rather have been born earlier, so you could explore the earth before it was known what was across the oceans? Or would you rather have been born later, so you could explore the stars? Why? I would rather have been born later, so I could explore the stars. We already know what earth has to offer, and we're the only intelligent species on this planet. Even though I wouldn't know all that if I were born earlier, I do know all of that now. Because of that, I would want to shoot for the stars, where nothing is yet known. I find it impossible to believe that earth is the only planet in all the universe to support life. According to this article: http://www.universetoday.com/103379/60-billion-habitable-planets-in-the-milky-wa... there may be 60 billion habitable planets in the Milky Way. The universe is a big place, and there are an innumerable amount of galaxies within it. The idea is what's called Goldilocks planets. These are planets like earth, that fall within the habitable area around any given sun where water can remain in a liquid form. Right now, it is agreed that liquid water is the key to life and evolution. That's not to say there might not be other creatures that thrive in different liquids, but we've never encountered any so we're going on the need for water in these calculations. There have been a few goldilocks planets found already. Perhaps we will even figure out a way to get to them in this life time. That would be an amazing journey. Though I'm not sure if I want humanity to make it to the stars. There are times when I look at the amount of damage we've done to our own world, and the way we sweep across the world like locusts, that I fear for the rest of the universe if we ever manage to escape the gravity well. I'm sure we would spread all throughout the worlds, just as we've done here. One of my pet theories is that we're actually alien pets who escaped during a camping trip. It makes as much sense as God or evolution. If you look at the way invasive species behave, humanity fits the mold. We have no real natural predators, there's nothing at all keeping us in check, and we strip all the food of everything else while killing off most of the natural competition for the same resources. Humans are an odd bunch. There's one thing that doesn't make sense to me from the evolutionary standpoint. That is the fact that we are not top predators. Usually, the dominant species is the apex predator, not some odd bald monkeys that happen to be a bit more clever than everything else. Nope, I think we're designer pets from some other world that escaped and went a little wild. Word Count: 503 |
30 - Day Blogging Challenge (June/Unofficial Month) Prompt by Fivesixer  - Procrastination: a fatal flaw or a necessary evil? As a lifetime procrastinator I will have to vote fatal flaw. It's been the bane of my existence anyway. How I wish I could be a type A personality instead of a type B. I can't tell you how many research papers in school were written the night before, and how many times I just threw my hands up in the air and didn't get them done. One of my procrastination tactics was to look at my grade, look at how many points I could lose to maintain a grade I wanted, then purposefully have late papers losing 10% of the grade for that paper. Not the best practice in the world, but such is the life of a procrastinator. Procrastination is not only an issue for kids in school. It's a habit that will haunt you into adulthood. How stupid is this? I've gone up to a week not checking my mail simply because I tell myself I'll do it tomorrow. Tomorrow is an evil, evil thing. I've put off so much stuff to tomorrow that I can't even begin to tell you about it. As much problems as procrastination's caused me, there are benefits. As a lifelong procrastinator, I don't get freaked out when things don't go perfectly. For those people who have to plan everything down to the T, if things don't work out according to plan, everything goes off the rails. For a procrastinator, if things go anywhere near according to plan, we're happy. I guess, like everything, there are pros and cons. I can tell you that Christmas shopping the day before Christmas is a nightmarish adventure that requires you to take your own life into your hands. Some of those shoppers are like rabid dogs, and they'll eat your face off if you get in their way. I think it runs in the family. My brother used to call me and say: Hey, we're going to have Ezekiel's birthday party in ten minutes, you're going to be here right? That is procrastination on the highest order. I'm almost as bad. I sent the invitations to Shane's second birthday party out like three days before the party. Bad edicate I know. It's important to learn from the past, and at least try to change. Change seems impossible, I know that, but it isn't. One book I read said that real, deep change, requires five years. Five years of trying, again, and again, to alter our own thoughts and action patterns. Just thinking about it makes you want to give up before the task is even begun. One of the ways to tackle it is to make micro-goals. You don't have to have one giant goal that must be completed in five years. Instead, break it down into a whole bunch of very small goals. Instead of, I'm not going to procrastinate anymore, say to yourself: It is due in three weeks, I'm going to get it done with two days to spare. Start small. Word Count: 517 |
30 - Day Blogging Challenge (June/Unofficial Month) Prompt by Prosperous Snow celebrating  -- Where do you find solace? Is it through a quote or by some other means? Take this anywhere you want and be creative. This is going to sound ridiculous, I know, but I find solace in my cell phone. Just writing that makes me feel like one of those crazed teens who gets killed because they were texting and driving. It isn't the texting that makes me happy, or even the phone part. In truth, my phone is a mini computer with a phone app. The reason my cell is my solace is because it is an instant link into fantasy. I have a reader app where I can by books, I have two different audiobook programs, I have access to all my favorite websites including Writing.com, and even movies. There's Pandora for when I want music, there's the New York Times to keep me up to date on breaking news. It even has an emergency app that will alert me to bad weather alerts and such. I'm never without it. If cells cause cancer, then I'm probably riddled with it. Second to my phone would be my laptop. Mostly because the laptop is too big to take with me everywhere. However, it is much easier to write on my laptop than it is on my phone even though I have a mini-key board on it. It's way easier for me to type on a full keyboard, than on the little one with just my thumbs. And any keyboard is better than the screen touch typing. I hate those. I need to feel the keys under my fingertips or I lose my place and it all goes off the rails. So it's an odd thing to get solace from, but it works for me. I think the second thing I get solace from is my bed. I love sleeping, and I love not sleeping. If I can't sleep, I love lying in bed and thinking or daydreaming. There's nothing better in the world than lying in bed in the middle of the day during a thunderstorm. It's perfect. That, and I love to snuggle with my husband. Having the bed to myself is great, but it is still better to have him there. He snores sometimes, but all I have to do is poke him in the ribs and he stops. Of all the things I like most about working from home, I think I like being able to lay down over my lunch break best. I rarely get a chance to doze off, but it feels wonderful to lay down and relax. I also enjoy working in my jammies. So much better than having to dress up for work. That, and the fact that I don't have to get up until five minutes before I need to start working. My job sucks, but being able to do it at home makes it so much better. So, those are a few of my favorite things. Word Count: 505 |
30 - Day Blogging Challenge (June/Unofficial Month) Prompt by Mitchopolis  -- Odds are we're going to be ' And fun times were had by all. I think I'm going to do a couple of flash fictions with the prompt. How about 250 words each? That sounds like a reasonable amount. Fic the 1st -- Cat Day Afternoon "Odds are, we're going to be cat food." Mike didn't sound happy. In fact, he sounded a little green at the thought. Tom choked on a laugh and almost fell off the small pegs that had been drilled into the power pole. "Yeah, cat food or crow food, sucks either way," the younger man whined. Who would have thought the world would drown in a plague of cats? Cats for Christ sake! It was ridiculous. Zombies, okay. Hell, even packs of rabid dogs would have made more sense. Nope, Armageddon had come in the form of a rampant tide of fur balls who should be chasing mice, not bringing down fully grown men and eating their faces. They were just ten to twenty pound house cats, but there were a god awful lot of them, and the flee bags were hungry. The incessant meowing stopped, but Mike didn't think that was a good thing. Looking down, he saw the ground and the few parked cars blanketed in a riot of fur. Glittering gem-like eyes stared up at them, fixing them in that unblinking gaze upward. It sent chills down his spine, and his palms slicked with sweat. His heart thudded wildly in his chest when his grip began to slip. "Sh-" the rest of the word was lost in a scream as he fell. Tom swallowed hard as he watched the mass of fur boil to life, covering Mike in an instant. The screams went on for a long time. 250 on the dot. Next! Fic the 2nd -- Betcha Can't "Odds are, we're going to be hurting in the morning." Jenna giggled as she took another long pull on the peach schnapps. She wasn't much of a drinker, but it was her birthday, and this year she wasn't going to spend it alone. "Mmhmm. Ohh, lookie there!" Megan had drunk a lot more than Jenna, and the short brunette was having a difficult time walking. Following the wobbling pointed finger, she saw what her friend had. There was a trampoline set up on the grass of someone's front yard. They'd decided earlier in the night that driving wasn't a great idea and walking would have to do. In the state they were in, they quickly lost their way. With a sloppy grin, Megan stumbled in that direction. Jenna paused for a moment, a thought tickling the back of her mind, but it was lost when Megan got onto the trampoline and began jumping with more coordination that Jenna thought possible. "Bet I can do a back flip!" She shouted. "Betcha Can't!' Jenna taunted back. With three more giant bounces, her friend drifted up into the air. At the arch of her leap, her stomach protested the vigorous shaking it had been given and a fountain of vomit geysered forth, giving Megan a rather squishy landing. Jenna howled with laughter, and when the front door opened, showing an irate man with a baseball bat, she turned and fled still cackling. 239 for that one. Well, there's my random bit of randomness for the day. Word Count: 568 |
30 - Day Blogging Challenge (June/Unofficial Month) Here's the prompt I'm going to use for today: In some families, you grow up with the expectation that it is okay to ask for anything at all, but you have to realize that you might get no for an answer. This is Ask Culture. In Guess Culture, you avoid putting a request into words unless you're pretty sure the answer will be yes. Guess Culture depends on a tight net of shared expectations. A key skill is putting out delicate feelers. If you do this with enough subtlety, you won't even have to make the request directly; you'll get an offer. Are you an Asker or a Guesser? I think I'm more of a guesser. Growing up, all the kids knew the answer to most questions would be No, so we often tried to come up with ways to ask for stuff without asking. I remember one time my mom said we would be able to go to a waterpark, and for some reason she changed her mind. We tried everything from guilt to bawling to get her to change her mind, but it didn't work. She even said if we could cry rainbow tears we could go, so we went about coloring masks with rainbow tears and all sorts of other schemes, but it didn't work. The game of guessing has carried on into adulthood for me and it really has become a game between my husband and I. I don't know how or when this got started, but if I want something I will make a noise at him, and give him a look. He knows I want something, and now he has to guess what I want of him. Usually, I'm hungry and want him to go make some food, but it can be other stuff. I never gave it much thought until I read this prompt. That got me thinking about childhood and how those things shape us into adulthood. I heard a funny quote today: exercise equipment has caused more mental imbalance for psychiatrists than all the mother problems in the world. I know, that sounds ridiculous, but think about it. Mother's did things to you. They had expectations that were too high, or ignored you, or beat you, or whatever. Buying a major piece of exercise equipment is something else entirely. It doesn't even have to do with weight loss or that whole mess. The problem is that most of those machines are expensive, and the vast majority of people who buy them only use them for a little while before they become extremely expensive coat racks. People put clothes on those things to hide their shame. They don't want to think about the fact that the machine represents a promise, an expectation that they made to themselves and ultimately failed at. We always think we're going to stick with it, and when we fail it is a harder pill to swallow than when someone else tells us we're worthless. No one can cut you deeper than you can cut yourself. Word Count: 515 |
30 - Day Blogging Challenge (June/Unofficial Month) No prompt today, so I'm going to use my own based on a quote: "So my favorite, foolproof way to start a story is with a person in a place with a problem, preferably in the first sentence. A named person in a defined setting is a signal to the reader's human-being-simulator to get started assembling a skeletal frame upon which to hang future details about this person." -- Cory Doctorow I find myself agreeing with this statement. First, you need to give us someone to look at. If they're doing something, all the better. If something has gone wrong, better still. I don't remember where I heard it, but it defines great writing. Create a character, chase him up a tree, throw rocks at him, and then get him down again. There are writers who turn their nose up at Plot, but there's another word for plot that such writers have forgotten. Story. The word plot is just another word for the story your characters are playing out together. Those writers who snub plot and even earn awards for writing that goes nowhere, often don't have a large readership because most people want a story. They want a beginning, a middle and an end. If there's a bad guy, they want the good guys to triumph and the bad guys to get their collective butts kicked. We crave the moment when Prince Charming saves our wayward Princess from the dreaded Dragon. That's not to say writers need to be boring. By all means change it up. Maybe Prince Charming took a wrong turn and his male pride wouldn't let him get directions. Tired of waiting, the Princess decides to take on the dangerous task of saving herself. Or, maybe the dragon himself is the hero. He sees a young Maiden being abused and rescues her, then the Prince turns into the bad guy because he misunderstands the situation. All these and more are options for the story, but the thing they have in common is that they are stories. They have the beginning, middle and end. They don't wander endlessly with no direction or resolution. I think that's an important element to writing. Because our normal lives are so meandering, and we rarely resolve our problems, it is something we crave and look for in our stories. No matter how jaded we are, we still want to see them ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. No one wants to know that two years later the Princess caught the Prince cheating on her with a chamber maid and ended up getting kicked out on her well groomed bottom when she kicked up a fuss. Unless, of course, that's the start of a new story. It would be a terrible ending. But, as beginnings go, it has potential. After all, kingdoms have risen and fallen as a result of bedroom games. Sex sells everything from epic stories to soda pop. Never underestimate the power of men and women ruining their lives in the name of love or lust. Word Count: 517 |
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