Being part of the 100 Word group has helped me focus lately on words – I LOVE words – love how some of them roll off the tongue while others seem to get stuck in the back of the throat and refuse to be uttered. But, I go through phases where I don’t really WANT to write – generally because I have to do so much writing as part of my J.O.B. Not alone there, I’m sure.

So, it’s fun to sit and exercise my brain pan a bit by thinking of ways to express emotions through a one or two word prompt – spewing it onto paper and then hewing it down to size. (You may have noticed I have a difficult time in keeping my words to a minimum – thus the challenge of writing only 100 words).

Part of the fun of the challenge is reading the take others have on the same prompt. I’ve discovered a number of kindred spirits by checking out the weekly posts.

One such is Dxpepper’s blog and especially this post. In commenting on it I wrote: we write about ourselves wearing other people’s skin and I was struck by my own words: it’s not that I am overly excited about my own words, but . . . isn’t that what writers do best?

I am an introvert. I used to describe myself as shy, but that word does not fit me at all, at all. I can talk with anyone about just about anything. Once nephew and I were stuck at the Seattle airport (due to Mt. Redoubt erupting) for three days. When his mom joined us on the third day he said, Mom! Aunt B can talk to anyone about anything! (underlying that comment was the unstated HELP ME!!!)
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The introverted part of me comes into play when I write – rather than talk about myself (although you couldn’t prove it by THIS post) I write about other people – unknown or made up people. Writers wear other people’s skin. We tell stories about ourselves and other people using a LOT of poetic license by changing places, names, etc. We put our thoughts into other people’s minds and let them slip out of other people’s mouths. We live vicariously through every John or Betty or Max or Morningstar we write about.

And, sometimes we enter writing contests.

I did that this week. Our local Writers Group holds a “Writers Night” each year. The entry deadline is in early February. I’ve entered two non-fiction prose pieces (writing about real people using real names) and two poems originally written to answer 100 Word prompts.

Thanks VV for allowing me an avenue of opening up my brain and watching what spills out.

“Mom hated obits saying, ‘So and so died peacefully in her sleep.’ ”

“Aunt Jane was a hoot! I loved when she changed her name insisting we call her Morningstar.”

The cousins laughed, huddling together in the unheated Customs shack. The crematorium prepared them for the border crossing. Taking Morningstar’s ashes from Alaska to Washington was as simple as showing proper credentials.

NOT!

Morningstar fought death valiantly. Now guards were saying one piece of paper was missing. They couldn’t cross.

Instead, the cousins shook Morningstar into the wind laughing as she settled across two countries.

She would have liked that.
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This post is in reply to Velvet Verbosity’s weekly 100 Word challenge. This week’s prompt is Credentials. Join a great group of talented writers and answer the challenge. I know you have 100 words in you.
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“Not me!”

Anita’s brain could not, would not take hold of the idea. Dr. Wood took her hand and repeated his words.

The room grew too bright, then immediately dimmed. Anita’s vision narrowed.

“So this is tunnel vision! Whoa! Focus, Anita, focus.”

And she tried to pay attention to the words. After all, she was the one and only – the invincible 42 year old district attorney in an otherwise non-descript town. Nothing could slow her down.

Nothing, except for that thin tell-tale line on a plastic stick.

“There’s nothing wrong with you nine months can’t cure,” laughed the doctor. “Congratulations!”
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This post is in response to Velvet Verbosity’s prompt INVINCIBLE. Why don’t you take a try at the challenge – 100 words – no more and then submit it to VV’s site. Have fun.
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“Remember when music was fun?” Linda sighed as she flipped through the album covers in the SALE bin. “We used to sing Kumbaya when we were 16. I still remember the lyrics to I Wanna Hold Your Hand, too.”

Andy stroked Linda’s palm and leaned in for a quick kiss.

“Andy, stop! We’re right in the middle of Target for heaven’s sake!”

“Aw, honey, nobody’s watching. You know I love you. You’re still pretty hot for an old gal, you know!”

Linda laughed and pointed. “Look at these lyrics, Andy. I was stabbed by satan. Gracious! I miss the old days.”
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This is in response to Velvet Verbosity’s weekly prompt, STABBED. Thanks, VV, for choosing last week’s entry, In the Spirit of Things, as your pick of the week.

The quoted lyrics are from an actual song – I’ve never heard it – found it through a lyrics search online. I am an old gal – would rather hear the Beatles.
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We’ve got spirit, yes we do. We’ve got spirit, how ‘bout you?

Sandi shook her poms and thrust her hip as the cheer rang through the auditorium. It bounced back as the other team’s cheerleaders repeated the taunt.

How much longer? This game is so boring. Why do we keep cheering? We lost it in the first half.

Rebellious thoughts swirled through her head as Sandi schooled her face into the mask she had perfected since freshman year. Today’s was the last basketball game of her senior year. No sentimental foolishness. She was thrilled to get on with her life.
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This is a second response to Velvet Verbosity’s 100 Word Challenge. This week’s prompt is Spirit.

Echoing our cheerleaders – now, how ’bout you? Isn’t it YOUR turn to write 100 words?