In a writing slump? Need a little nudge, a kiss of inspiration? Enjoy this prompt from our Advanced Fiction instructor from Chris Belden:
Ashtray by Marcus Jackson
Filling with my mother’s smolderings,
this tawny, six-sided, three-pound glass dish
has sat forty years at the table’s center.
During lapses in labor or happiness
my mother smoked Merit after Merit, her mind
a crowded parlor of plans, self-hate,
and urgent glimpses of encounters long past.
She split the skin atop my father’s skull
once with this ashtray as he grabbed her.
Weekly, after she emptied and washed it, Friday’s light
entered the drafty sash and upheld this ashtray
as the crown of one woman’s quiet country.
Think of an object from your life. It doesn’t have to be a super important object—it can be small and seemingly inconsequential, but sometimes when we start writing about things that we still remember, they start to become more important to us. Describe the object, then tell us what you remember about it. See where this takes you.
Congratulations to Henry Liu for his First Place award in our CT Voices contest collaboration with WSHU Radio. From Connecticut By: Henry Liu Father: For forty years, you have rested beneath the mountains of northern China. But you never reallyleft me. I still ask: If you were alive, would you
Congratulations to Margie Jacobson for her Second Place award in our CT Voices contest collaboration with WSHU Radio. Teeth by Margie Jacobson It was the least creepy of attics. Open, airy, fully finished, sun-dappled even on the cloudiestdays. The stairs opened onto a playroom which, when I left more than
