Greetings, writers—
Well, it wasn’t actually Substack’s problem last Friday, it was mine. Specifically, the fault lay with my beloved old computer, which was so full of pictures, half-finished stories, and mothballed novels (and in-process one, too!) that it just couldn’t deal.
The original #027 prompt that I thought was lost—Scars—still existed, and somehow it got sent out to you. An hour prior, my newer #027 prompt—Titles—also went out, though without a photo, because by that point an image was too much to ask of a 2015 MacBook.
All this is to say that ya’ll got two prompts for the price of…well, for most of you, free, and I got a sparkly new computer. TGIF!
Today I’m celebrating my renewed uploading abilities by sharing images of the two pieces that inspired this prompt—plus a drawing of me by my daughter, then nine, which I found in my junk drawer when I was thinking about cleaning it out.
But first: Remember that our next free generative writing class is Monday, April 10 at 7 pm Pacific, via Zoom.
Want to join the fun? Of course you do! Just reply to this newsletter with a yes (this goes to my in-box), make a comment, click the heart button, or stop me in the grocery store to let me know that you want in!
And now, without further ado, your prompt:
Rainer Maria Rilke’s poem and Rick DeMarinis’s story (see below) bear no relationship to each other save for a similar last line.
Similar, sure, but also totally not: Rilke’s is a direct challenge, while DeMarinis’s offers reassurance, however faint.
Read both pieces. (Maybe even more than once; the Rilke, especially, is worth it.)
Then write your own thing—a poem, a mini-essay, a scene—that ends with some version of that final line (even a negative one, as in ‘you don’t have time…’ or ‘change is impossible’).
Happy writing—
Emily
P.S. Link for Rilke here and DeMarinis here if the photos are too small. But DeMarinis is sideways for some reason.
Yes please, I'd like to join the meeting on the 10th, and run into you at the grocery store :)