250 Word Challenge

250 words

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Same Story, Different Point of View

Version 1

On the heels of worry came the unpleasant news of Somchi as the violent sun dipped in the grey-blue sky. The prophetic scorch obscured smoke from a nearby village. Insomnia and I were the best of friends. I used to sleep best with a bible under my pillow. Hope had evaporated the dry and wary land. Violence encroached like high tide. The rice paddies were empty for days. Harvesting came no more, one grain of rice equated one bead of sweat and everyone too tired. I was tired, tired like I was a hundred years old, tired from the smell that never left.

I recall lifting my cracked hands to pray. I said to God, Did she suffer? Forgive them for they know not what they do. I can still remember thinking through the blur. The words of a wise poet were all that came to me...death comes equally to us all and makes us all equal when it comes. The more I thought about it, the more a flood of thankfulness overwhelmed me, I was so thankful that Somchi had set eternity in her heart. There was no school for grief. I remember thinking, who teaches you to cope with the death of your child? For days I walked around feeing numb and sad at the same time.

Version 2

Samakhisa had so desperately tried to comfort her. The words that he had structured in his head were not forthcoming. He tried to catch her eyes but Saraya had buried her head on his shoulder. He felt a rush of thankfulness that he did not have anyone to lose. The pain seemed unbearable. She started to sing a lullaby, the one she had sung to her daughter as she nursed her, the lullaby was for her benefit.

He wondered how long would it last and when would he would free have his shoulder back? He did not have any family was because he did not know how to deal with these sort of things, less was more. Her lullaby closed and all that was left was the sound of their breathing. He stood there like an idiot, helpless to help her. She was old, so was he, they could have been an old married married couple but were not. He wanted to hold her but fear gripped him.

“They killed her before she could even assemble her story.” she said.
He stared at her blankly as if there was no heart inside of him, his eyes wide, a mute.
They sipped pearl black tea, sorrow lingered, the kind of sorrow that he had run from his whole life. Grief wrapped her like a winter coat. Winter of the heart had arrived.

Version 3

The words that I wanted to share with her all sounded shallow as I structured them in my head. I tried to catch her eyes but she buried her head on my shoulder. I felt a rush of thankfulness that I did not have anyone to lose. The pain seemed unbearable. She started to sing a lullaby, the one she had sung to her daughter as she nursed her, the lullaby was for her benefit.

I wondered how long would this last? When would I be free to get my shoulder back? Her lullaby closed and all that was left was the sound of our breathing. I stood there like an idiot, helpless to help her. I wanted to hold her but fear gripped me.

“She is dead, they killed her before she could even assemble her story.”
Again I blanked, my eyes wide, mute.
We experienced deep sorrow and sipped pearl black tea, sorrow lingered, the kind of sorrow that I have spent my whole life running from. Grief wrapped her like a winter coat. I could see that winter of the heart was here, to stay for a while.

Here is the image that inspired me, tell me what's your favorite version?

Tuesday, May 25, 2010


What comes to mind when you think of a journey? Perhaps a road, perhaps the path of life, perhaps a progression or growth. By definition it is traveling from one place to another. We are all on some kind of journey. Some have mile stones, some have destinations. Do you know where you are heading? What and who takes up the journey. Have you smelt the roses today, this week, this month?

Will your journey leave a legacy, if so what kind of legacy? Are you on a marathon or is this a 5k? Are you on a 5k when you should be on a marathon. Do you face the world alone and pretend like you have a perfectly good journey ahead of you (you were planning it that way.) Is your journey up the corporate ladder, how many rungs can I climb? What happens when i get to the top, what has been lost at the bottom. What about the journey of health and beauty? Is it balanced or are you prey to the magazines and what they tell you?

How did you define your journey. Who is responsible? Do you even think about the journey at all? Who does your life touch? Who touches your life? What is the journey about, have you answered that deep in your inner most being?

Monday, May 24, 2010

Keep It Up!

Now that I have announced to the world that I am on a mission I need to keep it up. Today I bought a voice recorder to record my thoughts on conversations, to interview them folk that are news worthy and just because it felt like one of those sensible writer tools. I am sauntering to the keys after a long day and this feels like the last mile of a marathon you have not quite trained for. Give me some of that staying power!

In the earlier part of the day, I was like a proud mum when an article caught my eye, "The Big Bounce South Africa's Rise From Apartheid to Economic Power" A country that has been through so much and come so far. I know it has it's flaws, my theory is that the grass is green where you water it. Growing up there and seeing an article like that on the front of a business journal gave me deep pleasure and satisfaction.

Today I decided I miss running a lot. I love love love The Bar Method but I do miss the wind in my hair and the sweat from a good old run. I feel the itch to sign up for a marathon again. We are going away soon and I want to act like a kid and be carefree and take lots of photos to remember it all. I love making memories and soaking in them months later. What an adventure this life is.

Until tomorrow's journey, au revoir!

Sunday, May 23, 2010

250 Words a Day Challenge

Today I am being intentional about taking writing to the next level. I have spent the last 6 months reading about writing technique and now I have to begin the application. I have set myself the challenge of writing 250 words per day for the next 6 weeks. Hopefully publishing this journey will give me some accountability and an outlet for sharing the journey.

One of the greatest obstacles will be how to start. Do I play it safe and create an outline that maps perfectly into a book or do I take the road less travelled, the organic adventure of dreaming up the story as I go.

I just watched Avatar produced and directed by James Cameron, the place that movie takes you too in terms of imagination and the possibilities is out of this world. Floating mountains, blue skinned people with tails that connect to nature and imagined animals. It pushes you into the world of make belief so much so that you are wrapped up in the Navi people and caught in the land of Pandora. Kudos to the mile long cast for an excellent movie set in a land of enchantment. I think based on this I am going to go the road less travelled and write as I go and then cut away and edit again and again.

There is a compulsion to tell inside of me. I am not sure yet on the content but if I sit at the keys and at the feet of my heavenly Father long enough, I know it will come. Not that the 250 words a day badge on this blog is that important to me however for the sake of integrity, it will have to come hurtling off this blog if I am unable to maintain the word count.

This post meets my quota and less is more. Thank you to Inkygirl.com for the resource and challenge.

Thursday, April 1, 2010


I came across thing incredible poem by Sue Cameron


Is there anything more powerful?
To heal, to hurt,
to destroy?
Words in my mind-accusing me,
dragging me down
into guilt and helplessness.
Words from outside-attacking me,
tearing at the fragile image of whi I am and hope to be.
I struggle under their heavy weight
and fear I'll suffocate.
Not all words are true, but they feel true.
Some are lies, wrought in the basement of hell,
Sent to defeat those who march in the army of God.
My Leader warned me of such warfare,
so subtle and hard to detect.
A sudden attack strips my defenses.
Wounded, bleeding,
I am left to die.
Now my fate depends on
to whom I chose to listen.
To the liar,
or my Leader.
His word consoles and strengthens me,
Binding up my pain and wrapping me in acceptance.
He does not condemn me in my weakness,
or require me to run on broken legs.
He asks only that I listen to him
and believe what he says.
His truth banishes falsehoods
and sets me free.
Living on the battlefield isn't kind and gentle;
it is demanding and stretching.
I must often pause to ask myself,
To whose voice do I listen?
And in whose voice to I speak?

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Scattered Start

I have given every excuse not to write in the past. The overwhelming feeling of the task. Now that my creative juices are flowing and my passion is ignited it's about when. I feel guilty now like I should be cleaning the house or finishing that work project that I am half way through. I am amongst the 2% on America without TV so I can trade my TV time for writing time?

It is a fine line trying to balance it all out. Fighting your thoughts, chores and everything in between. Gal 3:10 strikes me between the eyes, I cannot do this task alone. Proverbs 16:3...I commit my work to the Lord.

Here I begin, grabbing every book I can on writing in every free moment I have. Blogging is my trial space, technology is my friend.

Thursday, March 25, 2010


I love writing, always have but now I feel the call to write in a more serious way. It is scary putting your work out there. It would be far easier to write in a cocoon where no one gets to judge your work or send you a plethora of rejection slips.

This blog is a safe place where people that are growing in their writing skills can get writing tips and answers to questions about writing, grammar and the industry. So today is the start of a journey that can take years. Come along for the story of your life, you may turn into a butterfly.