Writers corner

Prompts for inspiration

As with any art, the old cliche` applies to the craft of writing: “Practice makes perfect.”

But how does one practice writing when lacking inspiration?

Many writers, aspiring and published, rely on writing prompts to help summon their creative muses.

Poets & Writers, a literary organization serving poets, fiction writers and creative nonfiction writers, offers weekly writing prompts, available by subscribing to the organization’s free e-mail newsletter.

A recent poetry prompt: “Write a poem that explores how you were named and the meaning of your name. Include at least one bold lie.”

For creative fiction writers: “Choose a social-media website, and click on the profile of a person you don’t know. Look at his photos, interests, and friends. Give this person a new name, and write a story about something you imagine happened to him 10 years in the past, an event that altered the course of his life.”

A writing prompt can push a writer in a new creative direction, or can simply act as practice. Whatever the end result, prompts propel writers into action, and that’s where inspiration grows.

Send your Writers Corner submissions to Maureen Dolan, [email protected].

We prefer e-mail submissions, and we ask that you limit the length of your stories and poems. Please include your hometown with your submission.

You can send hard-copies by mail to Maureen Dolan at The Press, 201 Second St., Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, 83814.

•••

Ode to Moms on Their Day

Moms deserve all the bouquets and gifting.

‘Cuz when it comes to reproduction,

they do the heavy lifting.

Sure, guys play a role; (think: “Live ammo in the starter’s gun.”)

then repair to the sidelines

while the REAL race is run.

Please, lean back and relax with minimal distractions,

and count all your blessings,

instead of contractions.

So enjoy this day, Moms,

midst the fruit of your labors,

and savor the smiles

of your like-minded neighbors.

— Joseph P. Dion, Coeur d’Alene

•••

Here I sit alone in this cell,

My own personal ten foot hell.

Thoughts fill my head of the past,

Relationships I had that didn’t last.

I try so hard to clear my mind,

But pain and loneliness are all I find.

How did I get here, what have I done?

I pray for your forgiveness, but it does not come.

Time passes so slowly when you’re all alone,

But I’ve become accustomed to my new home.

Two years ago we said goodbye,

Thinking we’d soon return to you and I.

Now you’ve moved and I’m still here,

Thinking of you as I wipe away a tear.

So if I never return for you to see,

Always hold on to the memory of me.

— Dustin Lancaster, Boise

•••

DID SHE KNOW?

When Mary first looked at His sweet face,

did she know He would die for the whole human race?

When Mary first held her Holy son,

did she know He was to be the chosen one?

When did she first realized what was to be?

That her Holy son would die for you and me!

Did she know she would only have him for thirty-three years?

Only to weep at His cross with heart-broken tears!

Perhaps she just looked in His sweet Holy eyes,

and didn’t think yet of His future demise.

Maybe she knew in her heart what really must be.

That He came into this world to set us all free.

Perhaps in that moment she just stared at His face,

and basked in the presence of His Holy Grace.

— Terrie Critchfield

•••

YESTERDAY

As I turn the page on yesterday

I usher in a new one

The leaves of the stories gone by

Bring new tales of times to come

Gone are the shores where we played

We reach for what is yet to come

Hurrying to squelch another hour

Spending each day without

Counting the cost of the one before

— Cheryl Williams, Kellogg

•••

GOD’S GRANDEUR

I gaze with rapture at God’s

majestic mountains. Razor-edged

snow-capped skyline, backing tree

enhanced huckleberry brush covered

Roman-nosed mounds. Serrated

by clefts and canyons. Some

spouting perennial trickle-stream

headwaters. By confluence of

many, creating a formable stream —

Margret Creek — Flathead River tributary,

to attract spawning runs of West Slope

cut-throat speckled trout. A pure

strain remains today. Pray man’s

continued recognition of splendor

to maintain, verses re-created checker-

board cultivated low-lands.

My rapturous gaze fills my eyes, heart

and soul with majestic grandeur —

unequaled! God charged us with

responsibility for care of our inherited

universe by rank status over all domain

and inhabitants. Let any and all changes

be in total sync with our abundant inheritance.

Man can make a mound — only God and

Nature can make a mountain!!

This majestic mountain range encompasses

Flathead River Valley and its impounding

Hungry Horse Dam, which transforms mediocre

to magnificent. Wildlife and water-fowl inhabit

this untamed expanse in abundance, and will

forever, if man’s management is held to a

minimum. Located in Northwestern Montana

High-Country. “Once seen—never forgotten.”

— Larry L. Laws, Dalton Gardens

•••

The people have chosen

There’s a New Era in sight.

Let’s all work together,

And do it up right.

We followed our leaders.

They threw us away —

They took all our funds,

They are taking our homes,

There are no more loans.

The work force is shrinking,

The jobs are all gone.

The crisis is here,

We must remain strong.

So pray for the New Reign,

Who speak of great change

And ask God to help us —

We are way out of range.

- Virginia Burnet, Coeur d’Alene