John Yeo on My Secret Place Eleanor Elliott on Incendiary Dawn on My Secret Place Gale Zasada on My Secret Place Maureen O'Brien on My Secret Place Dawn on Incendiary Dawn on Incendiary John Yeo on Incendiary Eleanor Elliott on Incendiary Gale Zasada on Incendiary Natalia on Short John Yeo on Short
First 50 Words E-Books
Get First 50 Words writing prompts in an e-book. Perfect for writing groups and for teachers. You can get only the prompts, or the prompts along with my response to the prompt.
Read all about how to get your downloadable e-book from First 50 Words.
First 50 Words Wins Again!
I’m on TwitterMy Tweets
Author Archives: first50
My secret place is beside a crystalline cave. There are flat, comfortable rocks near the mouth from which I can look at the ponderosas, the oaks, the stream dancing over its stony track. The sky is blue – dark clean … Continue reading
What I need is an incendiary imagination, one that blazes across the mind and page with images so bright as to cause the reader to squint for protection. But there just isn’t enough heat in my life. Maybe I can … Continue reading
It’s so short Not fit to snort Can’t be worn to cavort Or for a fanciful comport. So let’s make it long Stretch it out like a song Whole notes that belong To a tune that cannot be wrong. Mayhaps … Continue reading
Too damn practical Got no enthusiasm No spontaneity, no zest. I stand accused of this sin. I am, in fact, My mother’s daughter, And so – a secondhand survivor Of the Great Depression, That great teacher of Practical information. Perhaps … Continue reading
all these faces these shades of coffee and chocolate and weak tea and rosy brown all these faces aren’t like mine my convictions are strained my humanity is in question my value to myself teeters on my ability to recognizes … Continue reading
Looking at the red stippling under the clouds as the sun rose this morning reminded me of Joni Mitchell and “Both Sides Now.” I wonder if the tops of the clouds are lit with red and orange and yellow as … Continue reading
She wanted to hold the baby girl, but there was another and another. All waiting in bassinets stretching into the far corners of the room. She touched her as much as possible while changing her diaper – rubbed her arms … Continue reading
Our neighborhood covenants require keeping your trash barrel in the garage or behind a fence. Keeps the neighborhood neat, it does. Yet walking through the garage to the scent of cantaloupe rinds or decaying chicken skin isn’t fun. That’s why … Continue reading
The filing cabinet taunts me. Engorged with unpublished stories, rejection letters, poems meant for only me, clips from magazines that actually bought an article, book contracts, book proposals that never made it. It sits there, asking me – reminding me … Continue reading