Tuesday, April 21, 2009

MySixWriMo Day 21

*****
Hard to believe we’re more than two-thirds done. When we started, I never imagined how hard this would be. And I never imagined I’d find so many stories. As of this writing, I have fifteen stories with potential and only five I don’t plan to pursue. Not bad for twenty days’ work. I’d be happy even if the numbers had been reversed.

But there will be time enough to dwell on this on May 1. April is about moving forward.

Today’s prompts (Two for Tuesday) from Robert Lee Brewer at Poetic Asides deal specifically with poetic forms. Not necessarily right for writing sixes, but I’ll post them for those who want to challenge themselves:

1. Write a haiku. The haiku is not just a form but a genre of poetry. (Click here to read more about the haiku.) People sometimes go into writing a haiku and end up with a senryu or a faux-ku, but it's all good (and all poetry).

2. Write about the haiku. I know there are some poets (in this very group even) who are anti-form. So, I'm giving them the option to write their anti-haiku manifestos. Of course, if you pay attention to this 2nd prompt, it doesn't need to be anti-haiku; your poem could be questioning or even praising the haiku. Or something.

I offer the following homegrown prompt as an alternative:

Start with a stereotype, then turn it on its ear.

Good luck with day 21. We’re doing great. See you later in the comments.

5 comments:

Greta said...

There's a bit more to this, but I'm only going to cheat by one sentence today. Don't want you to think I'm a total scofflaw.

Over Easy

Even now, in the midst of disaster, Jerry couldn’t believe how beautiful she was, standing at the stove in her old bathrobe, her hair disheveled from their night in bed.

She slipped the spatula under an egg, flipping it, then said, “Oh, come on now, Jerry; surely you had to be expecting this.”

He dabbed at his nose with a wadded tissue. “I just don’t understand how you can be so dismissive,” he said, sniffing, “like none of our life together means anything.”

She sighed, gave him a sideways look as she slid his egg on a plate. “Look, it’s not you, it’s me,” she said as she placed the plate in front of him. “I’m just not emotionally available right now.”

Stephen said...

Funny twist, Greta. I liked it.

Unfortunately, work has placed me behind, and I probably won't be able to get you something on this one today. I'll see if I can work it in tomorrow.

Jane Banning said...

Hi everyone,
I'm finally resurfacing with an OLD prompt: the Friday one. I feel a little rusty!

Bare Boned
Oh, great: a Friday 8:00 a.m. meeting with the two Jack Russell terriers of the department, both attracted to the newest bone, sniffing and gnawing and then abandoning it naked on the ground. They wore their twin diamond collars this morning.

I drew a breath and began the meeting, “I propose we hang onto our traditional development approach for another quarter to gauge results and then create a strategy based on changing one variable instead of ten.”

The Terriers exchanged rabid, shiny glances and pounced.

“We think the new strategy has more meat to it.”

Sit, stay, I thought; don’t lunge.

“Fine, I’m sure the two of you can come up with the most appealing plan,” I said and the two trotted off together down the hall to dig in the dirt of a different yard.

Jane Banning said...

And one more, about 'an interaction'. It's not quite a Six either, Greta.

Oh, Pipe Down
The problem with my feet is that they have petulant minds of their own these days. They hope for sympathy but end up with all the work and it makes them crabby. So they don’t even try to get along with each other, let alone my knees and the four of them vie for my attention in the pinched mornings. They all complain with their small red voices.

The knees are somewhat better; they only cry out at the first few steps out of bed, but at least they take me, like stiff doll legs, on to the kitchen and the coffee and chair with the blue cushion. After I sit awhile, the hips start whining about needing to move and so I do, but then the feet set up their hue and cry again, the knees become plaintive, and only the hips are happy until they start arguing with my lower back.

I give up, take a nap, and for a while everyone shuts the hell up.

Greta said...

Both good pieces, Jane. You're on a roll :)

Stephen, no worries. See you when things lighten up.