I’ve struggled with my weight for about the past ten years. I was a skinny kid. I could eat anything and never gain an ounce. Somewhere is my early twenties my metabolism decided to grind to a halt. Since then I’ve battled it out with diets, exercise and glam mags telling me that if I wasn’t a stick insect, I was ugly. Well, I never bought that, but I do acknowledge the fact that I have become way too unfit for my age. I’ve been thumbing through all of my old diet magazines and low-calorie cook books and have come to one conclusion. If intake is less than calories consumption, you will drop weight. Simple huh? So, no more diets for me, just going for a game of tennis…

Have you ever tried to do something and failed? How did you feel? It could have been anything like learning to swim, having a recipe go horribly wrong or failing a driving test. How did you approach failure? Did you try again or give up, blame the situation, change the parameters, in short, this prompt is about failure and how we overcome it. Write a scene where a character’s endeavours go spectacularly wrong. How do they cope?

My father built an extension on our house when I was growing up. He poured the foundation, put up the wooden frame and tucked the fibreglass insulation sheets into the walls. Finally, the brickwork, glass and roof went up and our house was complete. He did it all in a matter of months.

Before all that, when there was just a cement foundation, a few feet off the ground, my brother and I used the space to roller skate. It was like we had our own little stage.

When the frame and insulation went up, I discovered a new place to hide when we played hid and seek with the neighbours’ kids. Unfortunately, I didn’t understand the dangers, so when I was caught by my father, tucked away between layers of fibreglass, I got the spanking of my life.

So, write a story or memoir about playing a game as a child.

It’s one of those things in life that can be short and sweet, long and drawn out, sad, painful…

There have been times when I simply did not want to say goodbye. The unfriendly clock on the wall stole away the minutes like a thief, while I hovered, unwilling to tear myself away. It would have been better for everyone if I had just turned, said something friendly and went out the door, but I simply didn’t want to part ways.  There comes a point when such long, drawn out farewell are awkward, but we’ve all done it. Just lingered too long….

Write a farewell scene. See how long you can make it before even the reader feels the characters have overstayed their welcome…

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.  ~Anaïs Nin

It is not a bad idea to get in the habit of writing down one’s thoughts. It saves one having to bother anyone else with them.

Isabel Colegate