What Fuels You? Photo by Juan Fernandez on Unsplash Happy New Year! At Tuesday's Drop In Writing Workshop, we wrote poems, short stories and essays based on the word “fuel” that we could revise and submit to The Cabin's Writers in the Attic anthology. Every year, Writers in the Attic is an opportunity for Idaho writers to get their work published, inspired by a theme word. This year, the word is "fuel". Learn more about Writers in the Attic (including submission guidelines) HERE. First, we wrote in list form, coming up with ideas: What is everything you think of when you hear the word “fuel”? List all the words, ideas, images, memories, dreams, characters, stories... Anything you can think of. What does “fuel” mean to you? What fuels you? What do you fuel? What is fuel? Ten ten minutes and get out all the possibilities, warming up your creative brain. Next, we brainstormed as a group. Let’s share some of the ideas you came up with. I’ll write them on the board. When I say “fuel” what comes to mind? Share ideas you came up with, but you can also build on those, add to them. Get inspired by the room’s ideas and build some more. Note – whatever you share is fair game to steal, generously*. But don’t worry – your interpretation of your idea will still be wholly yours, unique. *As in -- all artists are thieves, but we take several ideas from many heroes, put them in the blender as core ingredients and add in our own ideas, rather than lifting whole ideas from another artist. We came up with a lot of great word/idea associations with fuel as a group, like: brain chemicals the open road molecules desperation stress blood serotonin dopamine rock bottom phosphogen acrid magic combustible stinky dusty (to name a few) I like how some don't make literal or cognitive sense to me right away.  Photo by Matt Hearne on Unsplash Now, how do we turn these ideas into something bigger? Let’s look at other writers’ use of the word “fuel”. We’ll stick with poetry, because it’s easier to get variety with short poems. But you can write a short story, persona essay or something else. Third Poem for the Catastrophe BY JOYELLE MCSWEENEY O melting rainbow that embrace this roof O persistent covenant hangs around giving us nothing, leaves its muck in the water expects us to be knocked out by its fine colors weren’t you nothing too, weren’t you sea bottom crunched down into fuel and when that eggshell roof busts through mama’s gonna buy you a rainbow ride for free an illumination, an inflammation hyperion flame headdress dream pins in the fuel balloons of Koolaid burst down to cool the sticky baby’s head plus a credit card a glock a new bible a princess dress a mermaid princess dress so you’ll be twice submerged or an erased Indian princess pajama set now go to sleep Allegiances BY EMILY BERRY In the nighttime house I don’t know where you are My allegiances could change How can I stop my allegiances from changing? Morning is a gown put on at midnight, but no one’s coming I don’t know what your secrets are You say you have no secrets but I can feel them, they’re bumps under the blanket You do not let me in This mood kept me up all night, like stars in my face, like the burning fuel of dead stars burning right through my face So now I have my own secrets This voyage at nighttime, these burning holes I can’t take you with me — I don’t know who you are You say it’s me, but I’m dreaming, I can’t recognize anything except someone else’s song, which sounds like a kind of siren, it’s calling me, it puts a light on Give me three reasons Oh, you think I test you? You think I work you too hard? You think it’s too much to make you master the task on your blue-black knees at 3 am? Body Builder BY CATHY PARK HONG I can no longer blush. Half-face towards the starchy scape. Birds limn the spindle trees, their Listerine-hued eyes dart as they trill mechanical dirges tabulating not again, not again / I can no longer blush. The flat arctic sky boundlessly jogs to another hemisphere / She grows! Or her pectoral grows or all her pectorals grow / A drop of body oil the size of a water balloon splooshes down on a man as a graceless anointing, atomizing into tears / How delicate the sounds are from her height! Glottal roses wink out of their throats: their voices tine/ Now I am blushing / Swamp moss draped over the arcades / Oh she’ll topple. She’s making for the welkin / swamps massage the plywood foundations of our houses / And speaking of / she shoots up not like a beanstalk but a city erected quick-time / and speaking of, I blush blood / Roiling up past 200 ft, dizzy from all that phosphagen / I be damned where she gits all that nylon, the size of wedding tents!/ She flexes for her audience / Naugahide. Fuel injection. A sawed-off shotgun will do you nothing just the rat-a-tat-tat / Rabelaisian bullhonkies hunker and tinker tents around her / Roiling, flexing / are louts without a law to bless them / a shadow overcast / a footstep is a swamp in which gators pop up like whack- a-mole carnival games / what are they saying? do they marvel?/ I am hemorrhaging flames! / she aims with her thumb. After reading these poems aloud, we talked about how they use the word fuel And how we might use these poets tactics in what we write. How many ways do these poets use the word fuel? A nd also... What is surprising or interesting about each? What are the tools, pairings, images, structure they use? What would you want to steal, generously? What would you want to do differently?  Photo by Sara Farshchi on Unsplash Next, we wrote: A story, essay, poem, or multiple poems using the word “fuel” Use your ideas from your first listing. Expand on them. Add in other ideas, images, from the group brainstorm, and other resources. Use images and inspiration from the poems, even if you’re writing fiction/nonfiction. You can title something using “fuel” and then the body springs from there. You can use the word in the text as a metaphor, an image, dialogue. The whole piece could be about fuel. You decide. Write, walk away, come back to it. After you write a draft, come back and revise it. We wrote for 25 minutes. You can write for as long as you like. Do this with a friend, share your work and offer feedback! Invite others to share what resonates about each share. And one thing the writer could work on before submitting. How did that go? Submission deadline for Idaho Poets is February 4 at noon. Happy writing and good luck!
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Happy New Beginnings, everyone! Here are some of my highlights from last year. I'm very glad to be in 2019, but there were some sweet moments to look back on from 2018, for sure, some that I'd forgotten. Highlights:
Here are my three big goals for 2019 and 2020: 3 Big Goals for the Next Two Years:
2019 is my year of compassion, generosity and gratitude toward myself and others.  Happy New Year from a friendly neighborhood Sasquatch near Hope, British Columbia.  And from me! Photo Credit: Sarah Ann Gardner |
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$1, $10, $100, whatevs :) Heidi KraayProcess notes on a work in progress (me). This mostly contains raw rough content pulled out of practice notebooks. Occasional posts also invite you into the way I work, with intermittent notes on the hows and whys on the whats I make. Less often you may also find prompts and processes I've brought to workshops, as well as surveys that help me gather material for projects. Similar earlier posts from years ago can be found on: Archives
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