<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729</id><updated>2011-04-22T01:15:01.082-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing Prompts</title><subtitle type='html'>Creative writing prompts for poets and writers.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-111568989328667882</id><published>2005-05-09T21:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T21:53:43.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Goddess SaysWhat is a/The Goddess, to you?What is the Goddess trying to tell you?"I stabbed myself with a fork today. It was the Goddess's way of telling me to sit the fuck down with a gin and tonic."--Kethrai</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/111568989328667882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/111568989328667882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2005_05_08_archive.html#111568989328667882' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-111447887975433645</id><published>2005-04-25T21:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T21:27:59.756-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Random Prompts  Where is the poetry in your day? In the past hour? In your life? What must you have wished for in your last life to get this one?  What do you truly want?  If my name was a verb...  Fear  I say yes to....  It's easy to forget about poetry.  Truth  Home  Mix Tapes  Love  What's Your Story?  What are you loyal to?  This is the season of...  Manifesto  This is Your Life  What's on </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/111447887975433645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/111447887975433645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2005_04_24_archive.html#111447887975433645' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-110870556811377482</id><published>2005-02-18T00:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-18T00:46:08.113-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I Used to BelieveWrite down all the weird beliefs you had as a kid.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/110870556811377482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/110870556811377482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2005_02_13_archive.html#110870556811377482' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-109902428114440798</id><published>2004-10-29T01:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T00:31:21.143-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A SoundWrite a piece which utilizes a sound. (For the purposes of this exercise, choose just one. You can branch out later.)  Ideas: a bell, a clap, a laugh. Use the sound as punctuation, or as a marker between the poem's sections, or as a refrain. Perform this piece in an echoey place (a church, a grain elevator, a bathtub). Perform it in a close place (under covers, in a car).  Perform it </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/109902428114440798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/109902428114440798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2004_10_24_archive.html#109902428114440798' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-109625288480126085</id><published>2004-09-26T22:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-26T22:41:24.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This week I discovered a site called Travel Blog. (http://www.travelblog.org/) I've been travelling recently, and while it was fun to check other people's impressions of places I'd been, it was also just as much fun to read about places I'd been to longer ago, like Petra. And to read about the places I'd like to go.Write one of your own, of a memory. Consider making a travel journal on an </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/109625288480126085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/109625288480126085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2004_09_26_archive.html#109625288480126085' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-109582837888991738</id><published>2004-09-22T01:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T00:46:18.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>City StoriesCheck out City Stories. Write a piece in which your city (or a city you know intimately) is a character, a presence, a part of the plot, the meaning.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/109582837888991738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/109582837888991738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2004_09_19_archive.html#109582837888991738' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-108899770601472492</id><published>2004-07-04T23:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-04T23:21:46.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Gorelets: computer-based "fridge magnet" style compsing at your mouseclick, with gothic vocabulary. Here's my newest one:memoryalways writinginside naked heartMake your own!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/108899770601472492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/108899770601472492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2004_07_04_archive.html#108899770601472492' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-108874522938601325</id><published>2004-07-02T01:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-02T01:13:49.386-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Independence DayWrite about independence. Or fireworks. Or a memory of this holiday. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/108874522938601325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/108874522938601325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2004_06_27_archive.html#108874522938601325' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-108570221503829214</id><published>2004-05-27T19:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-27T19:56:55.036-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sign up for a daily haiku, delivered to your email or phone. Submit some of your own haiku to same. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/108570221503829214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/108570221503829214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108570221503829214' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-108529235895617646</id><published>2004-05-23T02:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-23T02:05:58.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>INSTIGATION: TWISTED PROMPTS FOR SICKO WRITERS+ Write the final scene in a book about Armageddon.+ In painstakingly close detail, appealing to all five senses, describea rotting human head. When you reach the end, reveal the context for itsappearance -- one which sends the reader right back to the beginning.+ What is the filthiest place you avoid in your day-to-day life? A nastycorner of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/108529235895617646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/108529235895617646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108529235895617646' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-107479158786561227</id><published>2004-01-22T12:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-22T12:15:08.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>+ Begin a piece by describing an object that a character refuses tothrow away.+ You've been dead for ten years. If you somehow were able to return,what would you immediately do upon resurrection?  Begin with personalexploration in first person -- be honest and earnest.  Once you run outof juice, start fictionalizing.  You can change names to protect theinnocent afterward.+ Write about </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/107479158786561227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/107479158786561227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2004_01_18_archive.html#107479158786561227' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-92226205</id><published>2003-04-08T11:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-08T11:35:09.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I miss me, too. Read Stuart Dischell's poem, "Days of Me," and write your own version. Are you generous to waitstaff, do you sip rain from roses, are you home before the streetlights go on? Tell me. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/92226205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/92226205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2003_04_06_archive.html#92226205' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-89400954</id><published>2003-02-19T20:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-19T20:19:40.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Adjective &amp; Noun Meet in the Middle of Town Take a piece of paper, fold it lengthwise, and on the left side write a list of adjectives. On the right, without thinking too much about it (trade papers if you are doing writing practice with others), write a list of nouns. Wake up to weird language. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/89400954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/89400954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2003_02_16_archive.html#89400954' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-89051553</id><published>2003-02-13T16:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-13T16:02:57.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Everybody, go to  www.poetsagainstthewar.org and submit a poem. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/89051553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/89051553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2003_02_09_archive.html#89051553' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-88457672</id><published>2003-02-03T00:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-03T00:43:23.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sonnet Forms         The sonnet was originally an Italian form, its name deriving from the Italian sonnetto, meaning “little song.” A sonnet consists of 14 lines, and has a rhyme scheme. There are three different rhyme schemes for three different types of sonnets:Petrarchan: The fourteen lines are divided into an octet (eight-line stanza) and sestet (six-line stanza) rhymed a-b-ba-a-b-b-a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/88457672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/88457672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88457672' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-84552676</id><published>2002-11-14T20:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-14T20:13:52.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SecretThink of a secret you have. Now, don't tell the secret. Tell me what's around the secret: the age you are, where are you, what are you wearing, what season is it, what does it taste like, smell like, how does it feel? What are metaphors for the secret? </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/84552676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/84552676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84552676' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-84285413</id><published>2002-11-09T14:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-09T14:14:14.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>HaikuWrite a haiku. Here are the guidelines:1. Syllable counts should be adhered to if possible:     first line - 5 syllables     second line - 7 syllables     third line - 5 syllables.2. Observations on nature are most common.3. Time is also important: time of day, time of year, season, time of life. More on haiku:Aha Poetry Haiku How-toMasters and examples from ToyomasuMore on</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/84285413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/84285413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2002_11_03_archive.html#84285413' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3917729.post-84038835</id><published>2002-11-04T22:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-04T22:19:00.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Self-PortraitDescribe yourself, in third person. Do this in three stages: 1. Describe yousrelf in ten words or less.2. Describe yourself in 45 words or less. 3. Describe yourself at length, and go as long as you want. Then try to keep going. Then keep doing it. Update it. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/84038835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3917729/posts/default/84038835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prompts.blogspot.com/2002_11_03_archive.html#84038835' title=''/><author><name>Celia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
