I used to host a thing called WRITING PRACTITIONERS through Meetup (here we are after the first wrtg prac "meetup" i hosted in auckland, aotearoa back in 2018), and since everything is just whatever, right now (&i got an "invite" from utoob to create a "course" on utoob studio, etc.), I've decided to create some videos of the sort of thing I used to/can do/would do and do do in-person. The goal is to make accessible writing practice.
If you would like to DO along with me, here's a link to the full-length, in real time online/video Write-Along, and here's a link to my Writer's Rate Sheet where this sorta thing can happen in-person for 808 residents, etc.
If you simply want access to The Prompts, bookmark this page for a complete, ongoing list of prompts
If you don't know what to do, here's another link to a little Intro to Writing Practitioners video
If you don't know why we're doing this, here's yet another link to The What and The Why
The below timed-writings are typed out as they were written (flaws and all), unedited unless I was unable to decipher my own handwriting *sigh*
1 min | I knew it was a mistake as soon as it hit my tongue
I felt it slither down my throat and ride my intestines like a water slide all the while knowing that it would inevitably have to exit my body in some shape or form. My only hope was to survive, whether [time ended but if you have a complete thought, finish it] or not the thing itself did, too.
1 min | Without it, he was powerless
I can't be powerless; that's not fair. I spent the entire day charging, and for what? to be duped into believing that all electricity is the same? What do you [illegible] that this outlet cannot charge me without a specific type of charger?
30 sec | Heavy is the head ...
that gets stuck in the bowl bc he was dared to see if his head actually fit in the bowl, but alas,
30 sec | ... as it crumbled into the sea.
all there was to know all that had been [illegible] now in the hands of the shore upon which the sands decide where all hope resides ...
2 min | Amid all the naked bodies, it was the smell that stood out the most.
Afterall, morgues are where people who have left their corpses to rot here on earth as they go into the beyond, wherever "there" may be at the end of this thing we call life, death, The End, and so, when you tell me that it's the smell, yea, that's the smell of death, and when your body, the fleshy living, bodily part o fyou can no longer sustain your life—life—you, too, will smell like rotting flesh, like death
1 min | The answer was hidden in the lyrics
The answer? The answer to what, and why is it hidden? If the point is for the words to reach beyond the singer and into the soul, shouldn't the lyrics be acceptably intelligible? not hidden, perhaps hidden
\\//.
[return to EPHWHYELL | Vol 0.1]