I love writing prompts. I hate writing prompts.
But I recognize their utility. I see them as neat and tidy nudges, reminding us to put in the time – to work on our craft. Same for, musicians, carpenters and artists…creatives of all types. The more you do, the more fluid your unique process and the resulting creation. Stretching and flexing the sinewy tissue from which your uniqueness emanates. Inviting the unfolding…the reveal. You.
This mulling reminds me of wonderful exercises that my beloved speech and improv teachers laid on me years ago. Handing me an object with the direction: “Ready, set, go – talk about it for five minutes.”
And the “it” in question? Once it was a sticky can of Coke pulled from the garbage can. Once it was a book; one I’d never read but needed to endorse with a compelling testimonial. Once I had to discuss the merits of a broken pencil sharpener, touting its other uses?
I remember those terror-filled teachable moments – standing all alone with far too many eyes on me, occasionally getting a tap in of support from a fellow victim/student. I was terrified…but the memories of learning and persevering, trusting my powers of observation? They’ve never left my head and heart. Trauma will do that. (Joking – only joking.)
Which brings me to the point of today’s ramble. I love the “Write City” blog from the Chicago Writers Association. The latest edition, “Seven New Year’s Resolutions That Will Actually Get You Writing and Reading More” was a home run. Perfectly timed to rev my writing engine in January when it can be hard to turn the motor. I blame the cold weather. Low battery?
I love each of the seven tips but #6 reminded me of why I write:
“Write one hundred words each day about something specific in your environment. This could be snippets of a conversation or a detailed description of someone or something nearby. The only rule is to stay focused so that you can capture as much as you can. Avoid including unrelated details and general descriptions.”
We’ve all heard the ‘write every day’ wisdom – sometimes with a word count goal – one hundred words, five hundred words. But when I read tip #6, I remembered the exercise from my speech and theatre classes and stopped in my tracks. Right here at my desk. “Write…about something specific in your environment…”
Looking around, my messy mound of legal pads spoke to me.
I imagined they said:
“Lookie here, Miss Vicki…we’re ready to take the spotlight. Tell a story about us…about how we’re your most constant companion…have been for years. And don’t forget. Tell the part about how you like to torment us when we’ve dutifully served you. Tell the truth…about the violent dismissals.”
I mean…who am I to ignore a sassy stack of notepads? And in taking on the challenge, I believe I pushed out 400 or so words (what follows below). A bunch more than tip #6 suggests, but then again, I ignored this guideline entirely:
“Avoid including unrelated details and general descriptions.”
Gah. Full failure there. But maybe you’ll read anyhow? Thank you for your patience. And good humor.
Legal Pad Love
I am an inveterate list maker because I’m a believer in task-completion. I learned long ago that being productive and monitoring my own follow-through was a route to sustaining and maintaining self-confidence. Reminding myself of my agency and purpose. Staying on track when life was anything but.
I also believe my love of lists is rooted in the auditory payoff that comes when every little thing on a particular list’s been accomplished. I adore the satisfying endorphin rush that rises when I gaze at a well-filled page on one of my trusty legal pads – with task after task jettisoned with a mere flip of my pen. What follows? The beloved rumple and the crumple as I rip the page free, wad it up and toss it in the bin. Sometimes with a swish.
I’ve tried the fancy journals. Would you like one? Or three? Friends who know about my love of note-taking have been generous over the years but I can’t bear to mar the interior of lovely volumes with the often nonsensical and irreverent this and that that flows from me head to fingertips. I just can’t do it. But I admire the floral and embossed goodness as they sit across from my desk, creating an enchanting tableau. A pristine aesthetic that’s calming. Unlike anything else in my messy workspace.
I also have a few leather holders for my legal pads. Little houses. Places to tuck them in… remnants from my dad’s days as an executive when he’d pause before going into a meeting, shoving his active legal pad into a pretty holster. Just for show. Often leaving his binder clip of notes and other associated paraphernalia attached, causing the glossy glove leather to pooch out at the side. Dad had a fix for that; he’d hold his hand over the binder clip to disguise the pooch and help the clip do its job.
My favorite leather “portfolio” matches a beloved briefcase gifted to me by my dear friend Linda. Both are in a rich honey brown hue; well-used in the 80’s and 90’s. Luscious to look at and delightful to hold but I can’t remember the last time I used either. The days of fancy seem to have passed, gone the way of suits and ties and skirts and pumps.
I’m not mad about it; I remember the version of Vicki who carried those accoutrements. But Vicki-now? I’m a fan of all things comfy. Just me and my stalwart legal pads. My all-time favorite desktop friends.
Vicki 😊
Seven New Year’s Resolutions That Will Actually Get You Writing and Reading More
Hi – I’m Victoria, Vicki, Dr. Vicki. I hold a doctorate in Adult Education and I’m a Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC), and author of Surviving Sue | Eckhartz Press.
Check out this link to learn more about my book “Surviving Sue” – all about resilience and love.
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Victoria Ponders 
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