Friday, May 25, 2012

BEGIN . . . . a word collage


This collective list of BEGINNINGS was created by members of the Women's Writing Circles at Zee's Writing Studio in early April, 2012, as a warm-up exercise. Perhaps it will inspire you to write your own list, or to start a story with one or more of these beginnings. 

Begin at the beginning.
Begin with "good morning."
Begin by taking off your mask. 
Begin tomorrow.
Begin with a hissy fit.
Begin again and again and again and again.
Begin with a pair of scissors.
Begin with nothing.
Begin with one thing.
Begin by burning the toast.
Begin with your eyes closed.
Begin with your eyes open.
Begin by taking a deep breath.
Begin with YES.
Begin by dipping your feet in the water.
Begin today.
Begin to notice the smallest things.
Begin on a bridge.
Begin on the roof.
Begin in the middle of the road.
Begin at the top.
Begin by looking in the haystack.
Begin with me.
Begin by writing wildly.
Begin under an umbrella.
Begin in the fetal position.
Begin in downward facing dog.
Begin by wandering aimlessly.
Begin at the Irish pub on 50th Street and 10th Avenue.
Begin with a clear mind.
Begin the Beguine.
Begin with the calamari.
Begin on a bicycle.
Begin with the thinnest line on the map.
Begin by making a big change.
Begin by opening the box.
Begin with your sister.
Begin by tying your shoelaces.
Begin after you eat all the cookies.
Begin with a memory
Begin with middle C.
Begin at sixteen.
Begin with a string of pearls.
Begin to forget your own life.
Begin another chapter.
Begin in the back of the garden.
Begin on page 43.
Begin to spin.
Begin with chaos.
Begin with just one word.
Begin by opening the book.
Begin by looking in the refrigerator.
Begin by lighting a match.
Begin by moonlight.
Begin with a friend.
Begin with new shoes.
Begin taking better care of yourself.
Begin slowly.
Begin by not apologizing.
Begin with a paintbrush.
Begin with dessert.
Begin with your ancestors.
Begin by getting out of your own way.
Begin on time.
Begin on the last note.
Begin by juggling too much.
Begin by stopping.
Begin with a kiss.
Begin with a haircut.
Begin with a guffaw.
Begin by cleaning up.
Begin by throwing out the recipe.
Begin in a diary.
Begin with hope.
Begin by falling in love.
Begin with a family legend.
Begin in a canyon.
Begin in a cave.
Begin at a dance.
Begin in Brooklyn.
Begin at my house.
Begin by sitting still.
Begin upside down.
Begin in a state of excitement.
Begin on a blank page.
Begin in the jeans department.
Begin on the ocean floor.
Begin with silence.
Begin in the basement.
Begin with a song.
Begin with yourself.
Begin asking questions.
Begin were you are.
Begin if you dare.
Begin even if you're scared.
Begin to realize.
Begin at the point where Pine Avenue intersects with Ridge Lane.
Begin between the farmhouse and the silo.
Begin around the corner near the yellow fire hydrant.
Begin with a plastic spoon.
Begin right now.
Begin on the beach.
Begin with care.
Begin on the edge.
Begin by being mindful.
Begin with temptation.
Begin with everything.
Begin at a turning point.
Begin without self-censorship.
Begin with a blush.
Begin by listening carefully.
Begin with an egg.
Begin with more.
Begin by packing a suitcase.
Begin with a seed.
Begin with your imperfect self.
Begin by being kind to others.
Begin under a rock.
Begin anywhere.
Begin joyfully.
Begin by finding true north.
Begin where you left off.
Begin when I say GO.
Begin before it's too late.
Begin planting after the first frost.
Begin by Googling "How to Feed a Giraffe."
Begin by making sure you have all the passwords.
Begin by remembering.
Begin as though it is your first day of kindergarten.
Begin at 5:32 a.m.
Begin by forgetting everything you know.
Begin with a hug.
Begin by ignoring him.
Begin by dipping your pen into the inkwell.
Begin by putting on your gloves.
Begin by taking off your gloves.
Begin with a smile.
Begin with an apology.
Begin at the heart.
Begin with a lie.
Begin at the place where you have no more thoughts.
Begin when you feel like it.
Begin as soon as you get the news.
Begin at A.
Begin in the kitchen.
Begin with how you met.
Begin at the Coda.
Begin at Act 2, Scene 3.
Begin by visualizing your safe place.
Begin with a dilemma.
Begin with your heroine in a pickle.
Begin with what comes out.
Begin with the cha-cha-cha.
Begin with the word "cloacal."
Begin from the 3rd line on the right-hand page.
Begin by casting on 120 stitches.
Begin to believe.
Begin by reminding me.
Begin with a loose button.
Begin with a writing flash mob.
Begin with a sharpened #2 pencil.
Begin by finding your true voice.
Begin by telling what has never before been told.
Begin with a terrible fall.
Begin by lying on your back in the grass.
Begin with a tattoo.
Begin by telling the story of your life.
Begin in spite of noise and distraction.
Begin by eavesdropping.
Begin by getting ready.
Begin with a long walk.
Begin with a needle and thread.
Begin with confusion.
Begin with your mother's story.
Begin with all the ingredients laid out on the table.
Begin with gratitude.
Begin by spending less money.
Begin shedding unneeded possessions.
Begin watching Fellini films again.
Begin tracing your family roots.
Begin to melt.
Begin inside.
Begin outside.
Begin by letting go.
Begin by putting one foot in front of the other.
Begin by petting all the animals.
Begin with what's on your mind.
Begin yesterday.
Begin after the candy dissolves in your mouth.
Begin by washing your hands.
Begin by saying Thank You.
Begin at the first glimmer of dawn.
Begin by forgiving.
Begin in a new place.
Begin at midnight.
Begin with the color green.
Begin in a willow tree.
Begin with the patchwork quilt.
Begin by finding matching socks.
Begin when you were a baby.
Begin by braiding your hair.
Begin the moment you wake up.
Begin the way you always begin.
Begin with the big bang.
Begin with the dream.
Begin wherever you are.
Begin by telling me what happened.
Begin with the drama.
Begin as if you've never said it before.
Begin with the juicy part.
Begin by walking into writing group.
Begin with a large soup pot.
Begin with your magic wand.
Begin by taking a risk.
Begin a conversation with a stranger.
Begin with the first piece of the puzzle.
Begin by flying out of the nest.
Begin with a blessing.
Begin by covering all the mirrors.
Begin with a gentle touch.
Begin playing more.
Begin by being less bossy.
Begin with more reasonable expectations.
Begin by diving, leaping, jumping.
Begin by making a choice.
Begin with your next breath.
Begin with the lightest color first.
Begin with confidence.
Begin by turning up the heat.
Begin by destroying what is already there.
Begin by not looking back.
Begin without regard for what other people think.
Begin by baking a cake.
Begin by asking your dog.
Begin with three knitting needles.
Begin in secret.
Begin with no regrets.
Begin by sitting in the hot spring's steaming pool.
Begin with a lullaby.
Begin when you come in.
Begin with your feet flat on the ground.
Begin with your earliest memory.
Begin by sitting for a moment.
Begin by grabbing the lowest branch.
Begin fresh.
Begin with the new moon.
Begin with a new pen.
Begin with butter.
Begin at bedtime.
Begin at the last possible second.
Begin freely and without a goal.
Begin by bringing the kettle to a boil.
Begin by emptying your mind.
Begin to find your sense of balance.
Begin by drawing a circle.
Begin by re-naming yourself.
Begin by building a fire.
Begin by emptying your pockets.
Begin with the wild things.
Begin with mud.
Begin with an overflowing bathtub.
Begin when the journey ends.
Begin in a deep sleep.
Begin by stepping on the cracks.
Begin with good-bye.
Begin by going deeper.
Begin by learning how to grow old.
Begin with a startling announcement.
Begin at the end.



Contributors to this Word Collage:

Alice, Annie, Ava, Barbara, Carla, Conni, Courtney, Deanalis, Donna, Draya, Gabrielle, Gwen, June, Karen, Kathy, Kim, Laura, Linda, Lottie, Lynne, Maggie, Margaret, Marty, Molly, Nancy, Natalie, Nina, Pat, Peggy, Reba, Sara, Sheila, Sherry, Sue, Susan, Sylvia, Tara, Yvette, Yvonne, Zee

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Some More Good Stuff, by a group of Young Writers


On Wednesday, May 23, 2012, I asked members of the "Teens Write!" group at the Tompkins County Public Library to spend a few minutes writing "If…" sentences, as a warm-up. After sharing these, they spent a few minutes writing down things they did NOT experience during the day. Here are their lists.

If . . . . 

If I could know everything in the world, would I have the courage to tap into that knowledge?
If I were a bug, I'd sleep all day.
If we were all bananas, would little kids draw us as moons?
If I cleaned up my room, the world would probably end.
If your hair color changed with your mood, you'd be far less confusing.
If teddy bears could talk, we would have had less damaged childhoods.
If I could have one wish, would I ask for something selfish?
If I stay, will you stay with me?
If there were only circles, then triangle sandwiches wouldn't exist.
If I could stack enough paper clips on top of each other I could hold the paper world together.
If only my hair were the color of the inside of red bell peppers.
If you want, I can write you a song.
If you are reading this message, I will have already left.
If you ever find yourself longing for a place to look at the sky and to make shapes out of drifting clouds, come find me.
If you were here, I would be happy.
If I could fall asleep, I would.
If the telephone rings, ignore it.
If I had a dog, I would dress it up ridiculously.
If a cat comes over and speaks to me, I would assume I'm dreaming.
If a horse is having murderous thoughts, I would never know.
If Pegasus offers to give you a ride home, make sure you give good directions, or else you'll be dropped in the lake.
If I were a cookie, would you eat me?
If only I weren't so tired, I would be able to think of more sentences.



Today I Did Not . . . . 

Today I did not
eat candy or ice cream
sing
play my flute
spill that juice
draw weird stuff
like my lunch
remember the names of the planets in the solar system

Today I did not
get up early
think of words with the letter Q in them
change the cat's water bowl
make chocolate chip cookies
do what I should have done

Today I did not
cut my hair
paint a mural
tie red shoelaces
see into the future
work on a story I'm writing
dance
wish the past had been different

Today I did not
walk on a tightrope
forget
cook
go to Canada
steal something
wear a dress

Today I did not
make friends with the class bully
blow something up
make a movie
wear shoes

Today I did not
tell you, because I wasn't sure if I should
cry
have a good excuse when I started laughing in 2nd period
remember my dream
smile in the morning, but I made up for it later
tell the truth, but I didn't necessarily lie

Today I did not
feel like obeying orders
want to see other people, but hiding from them was a futile effort
see the point of another 6 hours of school

Today I did not
walk along the lakeshore barefoot while the sun sizzled into the 
    water at the horizon
say goodbye to anyone
make any lasting impressions
learn how to waltz, or play cello, or speak Swedish
fly a kite
tell anyone, or anything, "I love you"

Today I did not
notice that my sweater was on inside out
forget the date
run, nor did I skip, I simply went
find the feathery morning drizzle dreary
feel anything when I thought about you, so I guess I've changed

Today I did not
wake up refreshed
have a bagel for breakfast
eat lunch
pay attention
see my friend Victoria
sit in a comfortable chair

Today I did not
feel proud of myself
send a text message
take off my shoes
wear a skirt
speak to you

Today I did not
speak without thinking
do enough
face reality
keep any secrets
hold anyone's hand
do anything against the rules
spend time alone
discover any great meaning to it all



CONTRIBUTORS: 

Alana, Amanda, Caroline, Evvie, Josh, Julia, Phoebe S, 
Rachel, Rose, Seraphina, Sungmin, WeiWei




Thursday, May 17, 2012

I Remember . . . by a group of young writers


On Wednesday, May 16, 2012, I asked members of the "Teens Write!" group at the Tompkins County Public Library to spend a few minutes writing down memories, as a warm-up before the writing workshop began. Young writers between the ages of 11 and 17 contributed to this list. 
I remember the day I left Korea to come to America.
I remember reading Tom Sawyer.
I remember going to the circus.
I remember building a Lego pirate ship.
I remember when the mural in the library was being painted.
I remember peeling off nail polish I had just put on.
I remember all the chickens in my backyard.
I remember hiking the trails in and around the Grand Canyon.
I remember my first dream — about newts and dandelions; it's a long story.
I remember the first time I cut my hair (and the second time, and the third time).
I remember a few words of Flemish but the language I used to know so well is just out of my grasp.
I remember singing in the chorus, when everyone else had already stopped.
I remember my quilt.
I remember my trip to Spain, Italy, France and Germany — the looming monuments and tiny shrines — and all the different kinds of food.
I remember how to say "I remember" in five languages.
I remember watching flowers grow in the garden, then die in a blue vase on the kitchen table.
I remember infinite numbers of stars and finite numbers of irises.
I remember the definition of vestigial, which is probably a vestigial thing to remember.
I remember taking my toy monkey baby everywhere I went.
I remember eating a raw onion like an apple.
I remember my best imaginary friends.
I remember seeing glowing plankton washing in on the waves at night.
I remember seeing baby foxes on a hill.
I remember buying a cheap rain slicker on the top of the Eiffel Tower.
I remember the sound snow makes on snow.
I remember seeing my first movie in a theater — a film about Andy Goldsworthy.
I remember swimming at night, when the water and sky were the same thing.
I remember trying to get everything right.
I remember holding my breath as I waited for the thunder.
I remember laughing without knowing why.
I remember making a "soup" out of things in my yard.
I remember being struck by lightning (in a dream).
I remember when I loved you.
I remember the English countryside, all green and lush and rolling hills.
I remember being embarrassed about getting glasses, but when I learned that it was normal I relaxed.
I remember when I lost my first tooth and my tongue wouldn't stop exploring that empty place.


CONTRIBUTORS: 

Amanda, Ana, Caroline, Ellie, Evvie, Joseph, Josh, Julia, Logan, 
Phoebe L, Phoebe S, Rachel, Rose, Seraphina, Sophia, Sungmin




Friday, May 11, 2012

Why? (and other questions), by a group of Young Writers


On Wednesday May 9, 2012, I asked members of the "Teens Write!" group at the Tompkins County Public Library to spend a few minutes thinking of questions, as a warm-up before the writing workshop began. Young writers between the ages of 10 and 17 contributed to this list. 


Where are secrets hidden in your brain?
What bird is as old as I am?
Why do cupcakes make people happy?
Why don't I own the right scarf?
What are dreams?
What is the purpose of the "star" on the star-nosed mole's snout?
Is it possible to create a color that nobody's ever seen before?
Do you miss me?
Does the tag in your pants ever freak you out because you think there's a bug in your pants?
Do you have a pseudonym?
Have you ever danced in the rain?
How is it possible to hate cats?
Why on earth would people want to worship Zeus?
How many birds have flown across the moon?
Where do balloons go when they fly away?
Do you think tears flood on the water's surface?
How many pigeons has the Eiffel Tower seen with its metal eyes?
Which falls apart more easily: soles or souls?
Would the tundra unfreeze if it were given the chance?
Come at the next full moon, okay?
Is there anything better than a cup of tea on a rainy day; curls of jasmine steam wafting with damp growth?
So you think you can dance, hmmmmm?
Can you whistle the "1812 Overture"?
Do mice even make plans?
Since when do you grow peonies?
Who came up with the idea that there will be 26 letters in the alphabet?
What is the most common number used for a lucky number?
Why are there different genders?
What will I be in 25 years?
Will I ever go to Hogwarts?
Why can't I have the last cookie?
Why are bullies mean?
Why are so many people falling in love?
How do my socks get dirty after just a few seconds of wearing them?
Why don't we have flying cars yet?
Why don't erasers ever truly erase things?
If there is such a thing as nothing, does that mean nothing is something?
Where did my bag of rose petals go?
Why does Rapunzel have such long hair?
Why do people write in cursive?
Why are there different languages?
Why are there so many questions?

CONTRIBUTORS: 
Alana, Amanda, Ana, Caroline, Josh, Julia, Logan, Phoebe L, 
Phoebe S, Rachel, Rose, Seraphina, Sungmin, WeiWei