• zdmarriott

Thursday Pick & Mix (#8)


Image of a box of beautifully frosted cupcakes with multicoloured icing and sprinkles

Hello, and welcome back to An Eddying Flight, Dear Readers! It's time for Thursday Pick & Mix - ten minutes of low-pressure, playful creativity that I hope will help you to reconnect to your writing joy.


Do it on the bus or train, do it in your office, do it at the kitchen table or waiting at the soft play centre. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you find ten minutes to do it, and enjoy them. Then you can claim your free t-shirt, printed with the words 'WRITERS DO IT ANYWHERE' (just kidding, I can't afford merchandise).


The Rules

  • Write for ten minutes. No more, no less. But please don't make this a source of stress. If you're an anxious watch-checker like me, then take off your watch, set a timer and put the timer out of sight (but in earshot).

  • Don't waste your energy editing. This one takes a bit of getting used to, but try it and you'll find it helps to make your writing more about the process, the joy of just creating something, rather than the outcome. If writing longhand, put your palm or a piece of paper over the lines as you scribble them. If writing onscreen, set the font to the same colour as the page so that it's invisible. There's no typo or grammar error or spelling mistake that needs to be fixed right this second, is there? Just keep going.

  • Once your ten minutes are up, give yourself the precious gift of walking away. Don't read what you've written. Leave it as long as you can - long enough that you might remember it later on with a little blink of surprise and pleasure. Go back to it, when you do, in a spirit of curiosity and interest, but without the expectation that you must judge it, evaluate it for it's worth and try to 'fix' it. Give yourself permission never to re-read this if you don't feel the urge. If no one ever reads your ten minute scribbles, it doesn't matter one tiny single bit.

Onto the prompts!


IMAGE


MUSIC



WORDS


"Ink loops on page, words pulsing and bright,
eyes tracing the rhythm until it ignites:
There’s a silence that follows me home at night...
Wind shushes my footsteps, ragged and light,
and dark birds shadow the moon’s face in flight,
in the silence that follows me home at night."

Onwards, writers! I wish you joy.

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