Today’s topic: Flying. My first 50 words . . .

“Put your hand out of the car window,” I said. “Just cup it slightly so it’s curved like an plane wing and hold it in the wind.”

Marti rolled down the window and stuck her hand in the wind. I was going about 30 miles and hour down a residential street. Her thin nine-year-old arm wobbled up and down in the breeze.

“See how the wind pushes you hand up? That’s how the wind pushes a plane, too. And the faster you’re flying, the harder it pushes. . . .

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Today’s topic: favor. My first 50 words . . .

As a favor,
Will you do this thing,
This tiny thing,
It’s not much.
Just this one tiny

Will you rub my
Aching feet?
They are oh so
And need a rub.

I know I ran
A marathon
In 100 degree heat.
You might think
I’m sweating and
Maybe even

But my feet are
tired and achy,
So, will you do

Garage Sales

Today’s topic: garage sales. My first 50 words . . .

I don’t stop at garage sales. I have too much junk already. So I don’t know why I stopped at this one. Okay. I do know. It was the gray haired woman. She stood in the driveway near a thick stand of bamboo that flanked the drive. Her hair was very short, as if it was just growing back in after chemotherapy. She threw her head back to drink from a can of Diet Pepsi and her body made this irresistable line against the green of the bamboo that forced me to hit the brakes. . . .

I dreamed

Today’s topic: I dreamed. My first 50 words . . .

I woke smiling, almost laughing. I felt good because I dreamed I was leaving him. I told him I was leaving and I plonked him over the head with a jumbo sized box of Kleenex. Whack, whack, whack.

I didn’t stop to analyze what the Kleenex signified to my unconscious mind. I was too happy to have had a dream, any dream, about him that wasn’t a nightmare, that didn’t wake me with a heart-pounding thud at 3 AM. . . .


Todays topic: handsome. My first 50 words . . .

I stopped the grocery cart in mid-aisle. A tall man bent over the canned vegetables blocked the way completely with his cart and his large frame. I silently cursed his inconsiderate behavior while he slowly selected some green beans.

He straighted and glanced at me. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m blocking you.” He moved his cart, but my feet felt glued to the floor by the sight of his face. Handsome doesn’t describe it exactly, his nose was bent at an awkward angle, but he possessed a compelling . . .


Today’s topic: giraffe. My First 50 Words:

I pick the giraffe named Melman as my character. I’m tense, joystick clutched tight, but determined that Melman-as-me will play a red hot game of putt putt golf. My eyes are fixed on the screen, unblinking, ready to play.

Gabby sprawls on the floor, relaxed. She moves the controls like they were part of her autonomic nervous system. The first putt is . . .

I remember . . .

I remember dancing to Sarah Vaughan’s Misty in a dark, sawdust-strewn bar in Estes Park. Every sound from the jukebox felt exquisite, perfect. Her voice and my body moved with the same heart, the same soul.

It was afternoon, outside the rain sprinked through the sunlight, but I was inside, in this dark cave with this beautiful sound moving my body. . .

How First 50 Words Works

Use the principles of writing practice according to Natalie Goldberg to write the first 50 words on the assigned topic. The principles of writing practice involve just writing without judgement or internal editing. If your first 50 words feel like a good beginning for a piece of writing, keep working on the topic on your own.

The first topic appears above. Please add your first 50 words as a comment to the post.

Thanks for writing.