Writing with Rox Weekly Prompt—Flower Power

Here's your prompt. What can I say... it's spring. I'm speechless. Aren't they just delicious?

WORD JAM! WE'RE JAMMIN IN THE NAME OF THE WORD...(not THAT word!)

Hello Writers, Friends, Wanderers, Worderers...warriors of the word...lovers of the written and spoken and sungin' and dancin' and meanderin,' unfettered word...

I would like to add another class at the Beach and am thinking of starting mid-April on Thursdays. Time? Oh, 2-4, 3-5... depending on what the people want. The People? You. What will we be doing? Whatever. Wordplay. Wordjam. It's open. Writing. More writing. Healing. Sharing. Giving Feedback. Going Deeper. Writing. Just writing. Lots of writing. We'll meet. We'll write. We'll see. The Kicker? We'll try out new prompts. You bring the prompts. BYOP! Cost: The usual per session or pay what you can or pay in words...Why? You love writing, you love sharing, you love being read to and you just can't get enough. You've always wanted to write or write in a group in a safe, supportive, nonjudgemental light spacious beachplace with the coolest writers in the world with guaranteed dark chocolate M+M's and liquid laughing tears of joy. How? Let me know. Right away. Now.

Hope to write with you soon!

Writing with Rox Weekly Prompt—WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND?

Okay Folks, I'm getting closer, though I don't like it one bit.

                              (By the way, what are "folks" anyway? Are they friends? Almost friends? Old friends? Small town friends? Small friends?) If memory serves me well, I do not recall hearing the term "folks" while growing up in LA., unless you count  parents "folks" which is how Richie Cunningham referred to his mom and pop on Happy Days.

We just weren't a folksy kind of folk. In fact, I wonder how different my life would be today had I been raised among the warm fuzzy idea of "folks," verses the feral threat of "fuckers," assholes, and actors, where everyone posed some sort of danger, mainly of being better than you. Not that we didn't have nice folks among us—we did! But most of the time, according to Ma anyway, those folks were either "unhappy" or "completely unconscious."

                     So what then were we, we folkless Angelenos?

                  And does this explain my continued reluctance to join Facebook?


My politics surrounding Facebook stem from a book I call my bible book, "A General Theory of Love," by Thomas Lewis and  coauthor experts on neuroplasticity, psychology, etc. The main idea is that things like Facebook and other two-dimensional intimacy substitutes (though it was written pre FB) erode empathy and are among the ways we are frighteningly fading out as a (human) species.  I still agree with this, could go on about it and will.

However. However. Is there something deeper at play here? Is my refusal to conform really a fear of rejection?  Admittedly, I do not speak Facebook so forgive my broken understanding here, but are you really my friend or are you just saying you are? I mean, I get that it's a cute catchy lingo thing, but look, if you're my friend on Facebook are you the same friend in person? Do you even know me? And then you have to decide whether or not you like me? Don't you like me already if we're friends? If so, how do you show that in real life... what does a real-life thumbs up look like?.......

             ..... And if we carry on like this, calling cyber-friends friends, aren't we subtly changing the definition of the word friend? Are we then substituting the intimacy of in person friendship for the volume of friends we have online? And eventually does this more convenient quick rush substitution win out over the real thing?  Is this NOT what George Orwell went on about in Politics and the English Language?

Yes, I'm over thinking it, but it's my job to over think things and then write about them. What do you think? Are you on FB? Why or why not? What's your Facebook story? Rant? Rave?   And if none of that matters, let me know exactly what a "folks" is.      Or... meet me in the middle:

Is it folksy or feral on Facebook? Shall I instead start a FOLKSBOOK page?  What if folks and.........

Writing with Rox Weekly Prompt—WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO...?

I've been wanting to post this ever since last Thursday after Intuitive Writing at the Loft. No matter what I'm teaching, I find a way to read NOSTALGIA, a short short by Richard Shelton from the wonderful creative nonfiction anthology IN SHORT (ed Judith Kitchen).

After listening to Shelton lament the end of  nightingales, kindness, bucolic, the use of the word crepuscular, and a "day in the country," my students wrote for five or so minutes on "What ever happened to....?" Simply, begin the sentence with "What ever happened to...?" (as Shelton begins his short) and follow the trail, see where it takes you. If you get stuck, simply come back to "and what ever happened to....?"



Without fail, wow. Every time we write together and share this exercise I am reminded of how it must have been before TV, before radio, before movies and I-things. Perhaps it is a bit like the days of the wandering poets... the days of the oral tradition where we went door-to-door, (village to village? hut to hut? ocean to desert?) reciting all the days news in the form of a song. The raw uninhibited form of storytelling that was freely given, until we discovered that words could be bound and sold (whatever happened to unbound words...?).

I suppose I am reminded of "the good old days" (what ever happened to the good old days?) when we sat around the davenport and told stories and sang camp songs for amusement instead of heading out to places of amusement like coffee houses where we isolate ourselves on facebook (whatever happened to talking to people at the coffee shop?).  In any case, by the time class was almost over, I was, rather unprofessionally, begging my students to read their responses.

"See?" I pointed out in a teacherly fashion (though I have no idea if it was teacherly factual!) "This is what it used to be like! Back when we had to commission writers to write up their most beautiful thoughts and musings! Please, please read!"

A few other students chimed in, lending their support. "Yeah! Come on! Read! You heard about our weird childhoods!"

When we respond to this prompt, something magical happens. We go places. We see decades and details we have never seen. We meet other mothers, cars, states, fishing holes and middle-of-nowhere restaurants. We get on the page with rare insects, the sounds of another country,  language, century... We meet each other's uncles and doggies. We learn about teenage soccer in England, Anti-I-Over,  One-Two-Three O'Leary,  We see fireflies and long gone utensils of the kitchen. We see the stories within the everyday objects and times of day. And clothing... we see clothing. And dancing. And church. And...

So please, I can hardly stand it. What is your version of "What ever happened to..."     As always, just follow the energy and see where it goes... you won't know before you write it. You may have some vague ideas, but when you meet yourself on the page with this one, you are in for some nostalgia of the holy shit kind. Enjoy. And then share. I'll pay you a quarter.