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Clockbreakers Three: The End of Time Preview

I may have made a mistake.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, following that army through the ancient portal. I mean, we had our own army of automatons too, plus a Minotaur and a son of Hercules. By all accounts, we should have been prepared.

We were not.

We were, to put it quite simply, completely surrounded, utterly overwhelmed, and totally in trouble.

One hundred men in scraggly beards encircled us. They wore furs and wielded giant swords, spears and axes. They were screaming at the top of their lungs, and they were running right toward us.

“Not again,” I said, and wheeled out of the way as a giant ax flew by my head.

This definitely wasn’t the plan. The plan, well, it was actually pretty terrible, but we didn’t have that much to work with at the time. We had arrived in Greece from Mythic Ireland without my best friend Maria or stupid, dumb, mean, annoying Paige. Our castle was destroyed, and half of our army was following Number One through the labyrinth. On top of all that, the door that would take us home to the 21st Century — to the Internet and tacos and Lady Gaga — was now a pile of ancient ruins.

To make matters even worse, I didn’t have my key. Paige had stolen it from me in an Epic Villain Turn that made me want to throw her into a pit of lions dressed as a clown with only a hot dog to protect herself.

I know. That doesn’t make any sense. But when was the last time your best friend was trapped back in time by a grade school bully who was working for Prometheus, the guy who literally stole fire from the gods?

You’d be a little flustered too.

We were out of options. So, we had gathered our forces, following them into the labyrinth. When they disappeared into a portal into that glowing blue portal, we decided to follow them. That was the entirety of the plan.

Turns out, it was not a good one.

I dodged another ax and pulled more daggers from my backpack with a sigh.

I’m not good at daggering. I’m good at computers. Ask me to rewrite the code on your website, or make you an ap with in-game purchases, and I am your girl. Last month, I rewired fifty automatons, so their power sources run on a combination of mechanical and solar power, which means we don’t have to wind them up every night, and they are even faster and stronger than they were before. I’m smart. I’m good at what I do.

But the ax-wielding beardos didn’t need any tech support.

Trent leaped into the air, grabbed a spear before it hit Asterion, and spun it back toward the attacking army. “What’s the plan?” He asked.

I looked around us. We were in a frozen forest, trees above, and hard-packed ground below. The beardos charged through the greenwood — hurtling every manner of sharp weapons. Plus, our path was coming to an end. The path dropped off an icy ridge, disappearing into the bright morning light. We had no choice.

Number One and his army of evil automatons were headed down into the frozen valley below, and the beardo berserkers were rallying behind us.

“My best idea?” I asked him, knocking the snow off my wheelchair tire.

He flipped backwards and kicked a beardo in the face, then smiled. “Yes, Kleis.”

“Run!” I yelled.

I pointed down toward the valley, and Asterion pawed the ground with his hoof. He stampeded forward, and we followed in his wake. Our own army of automatons marched with us, arms and legs and claws spinning through the air.

They were majestic fighters, but for every beardo that dropped at his feet, another one sprung out of the forest around us. “Where are they coming from?” I shouted, spinning my wheels over the frozen forest floor.

“I do not know,” Asterion said “But we cannot stop them. They are battle-hungry. Bloodthirsty.”

Trent grabbed one of my daggers and shot it through the air, pinning one of them to a tree. I blinked, and he had already pushed another beardo away with the heel of his ax. He was so fast! Our automatons clawed across the forest floor, shooting webs at the army’s feet. A beardo came crashing toward me, eyes blood red and ax raised high. I threw my dagger wildly, then sped forward across the snow, wheels sliding.

It was in that moment that I missed armor. Like, full suits of armor, straight from Windsor Castle or the Smithsonian, fully-decked out with a shield and a helmet and one of those little flippy-down visors. Clearly, what we were missing was giant suits of metal covering our squishy parts. I mean, I like my squishy parts not squished. The golden plating seemed to be working for the automatons. The giant spider-men careened through the forest, taking spears like they were pencils and tossing them back into the battle like math class was over and it was time for doom.

Well, except the automaton that lost its arm. That one didn’t look so good. Or the other one, which was spinning on the ground with its eyes blinking red.

Hand picked up the automaton and threw it on its back, then continued on, like it was no big deal that an automaton was dancing like Lady Gaga on its golden shoulders.

I wheeled through the forest, focusing on the break in the trees, and the possibility of freedom beyond the ridge, when a fresh crop of beardos charged toward us.

As they got closer, Trent got faster. He cut through their ranks, knocking many of them unconscious or *unable to fight* with their own weapons, but there were so many of them, and their fighting style made no sense.

“They are just swinging their axes!” Trent said. “What is their strategy?”

Asterion roared as one punched him in his hairy gut. “Not nice! Stop that!” He picked up the beardo and tossed him over his horns and into a tree.

It was great having a minotaur on our side.

I threw another dagger and wheeled on as fast as I could. The path opened up to a wide, frozen meadow.

Now that they had more room, my army of automatons sprang to life.  They shot spiderwebs at the incoming army, wrapping them in silver thread. Hand tied one to a tree and somehow yanked another beardo up over our heads. He hung from the branch of the tree on a thin, silvery web.

We programmed the automatons so they couldn’t kill people, but they were definitely going too easy on the beardos. A man who was dressed like a bear was swinging one of our automatons through the air.

And that wasn’t all — the meadow opened up to a valley, but first, you had to head over the side of a cliff.

“Um…you guys?”

Trent flipped over to me and hit a beardo in the foot with his axe. I threw another dagger as they closed in, but I only had two left.

“This isn’t working,” he said.

“There’s a cliff,” I said.

“Cliff!” Asterion yelled.

“I know!” I said. “Number One took the automatons down that path.” I pointed toward where the ground seemed to disappear along the cliff’s edge. 

Trent kicked another beardo in the face. “That’s a path?”

“I hope so!” I said.

“It’s too narrow,” Asterion added, throwing a beardo back into the forest. They kept on coming.

“I think it’s our best option right now.” I wiped the snow off my gloves and pushed my wheels hard toward the ridge.

Trent looked like he was about to rip someone’s head off. Or at least their beard. He swung his ax in the air and the handle bonked a beardo right on the nose. “Not the only option.”

“I would prefer to not render the entire army unconscious,” Asterion said. “My hooves are cold. We should take the path.”

Hand shot out a golden claw. “Send ten automatons first.”

I nodded my head and Hand gestured toward a line of troops. They followed hand down the mountainside.

We shot after them, sliding between the icy rocks. I swallowed hard. It wasn’t so much a path as a ramp leading to certain frozen death that had been cut into the mountainside. I turned back, but more beardos came, so we started down the path, and to our untimely death, when I heard a clamor of metal and screams ahead of us.

“Seriously?!” Trent yelled.

I stopped my wheels. “Asterion! There’s more coming up the ridge.”

The beardos threw our first two automatons off the cliff. They fell into the valley below.  I watched them fall, waiting for the explosion, the sudden burst of flames.

But in mid-air, they tucked into bowling balls, then collided with the valley floor. They rolled off into the dead grass, then spun around and ran back toward us.

The beardos pushed forward, and our automatons kept falling. I could already smell the beardo’s breath and hear the swish of their axes. Hand held the next batch off, but even with Trent’s help, we seemed to be losing ground. Behind us, Asterion was fighting even more beardos.

This couldn’t be happening. After everything we had gone through, I refused to be thrown off a cliff by stinky men with wild beards and bloodshot eyes. There had to be a better plan.

I could see a crack in the cliff face up ahead, which could protect us from the long journey to certain death at the bottom of the mountain. “Go in!” I yelled. I turned for the cave just as a beardo was coming out. He raised his sword, ready to strike. His eyes met mine. They were wild with anger and fear.

He was scared.

“It’s okay,” I said.

“Okay?” he asked, turning his head.

“We are not here to hurt you.”

He held his stinky breath, considering. Then his eyes narrowed, and he looked over my shoulder. His eyes popped open wide. He pointed into the sky behind me.

“Valkyrie!” He screamed, running back into the cave. I grabbed my wheels to turn around, but the snow blew in a whirlwind around me.

Ice and snow crashed into my face and I screamed.

“Charlie!” Trent yelled.

In a flurry of golden wings, I was lifted into the sky, wheelchair and all.

The adventure continues on May 10th!

The post Clockbreakers Three: The End of Time Preview appeared first on Kate Ristau.

Please read: Save the Moon

By Jenny Forrester Photo by Intisar Abioto

This is what I’m working on. 

I’m seeking a way to combine my obsessions and activisms into cohesive, experimental literature. I won’t use the language of contemporary movements. I want to be accessible and timeless. 

For example, I’m figuring out what it’ll take to save the moon. NASA says all these nice things about the moon to her face…but what they’ve done to her face, to her back…They’re after Mars, too. Colonization. I’m sure they’ll employ a more palatable word, a more inclusive, less-loaded word, something they steal from the people on my side, people I wish were on the moon’s side, too.

My most recent ex-friend had been condescending and cold, super supportive of someone waging a self-serving war, gathering order-following soldiers who don’t think for themselves. That’s not all soldiers that’s just who the someone waging a war wants. Long story, too short, bear with me, the ex-friend wanted me to prove my narrative of hurt-ness. Get that part, dear reader. …I had to prove my narrative to them…before she would talk to me on the phone. Like how old are we?

And. Yes, you caught that…I wrote most recent ex-friend. Someone whose most-recent implies this is a pattern. That there’s more than one. There is/are.

Now, I wonder about you, your projections, bringing yourself to my work the way readers do, which we writers expect, manage, and attempt to control. 

If you’re the deep-reader type, a writer’s dream kind of reader, you’re reading under the words…to get somewhere at the end of this or during. What I’m saying. Why my sentence structures are a kind of way. What I’m doing here on this page. Who I am in the larger context. How I’m making this about you now. About my most recent ex-friend, about all the ex-friends, about how this is a phenomenon, all these friendships suffering, the moon and Mars, too. We’re social creatures. Isolation is hard on us. What makes a relationship is time and proximity. Business relationships, arts community networks…who’s most in view…nearness, even if only digital. Why I said ‘only’ there. Only digital…I’m not pro-robot future is why.

Ex-friend vague-rage-posted about my wanting better from everyone everywhere…

Still regarding saving the moon here. Ex-friend had been a follower on instag*m and I followed them. When I left faceb**k and went back on and left and returned again, I was being funny when I said, “So what’d I miss?” Many laugh-emoji’d but Ex-friend posted something I’d seen and given a heart to and even said a thing about–on Instagr*m. Since we hadn’t communicated about that on faceb**k, it’s like it didn’t happen. It’s like I’d been dead because I wasn’t on facebook even though I was on instagr*m, which is a part of faceb**k anyway. 

It’s like when everyone was saying payp*l was evil, use venm* and if you didn’t switch, you were some kind of bad something, maybe even fascist-leaning, certainly pro-capitalism and silly thing is, they’re part and parcel of that same big thing. That is the small narrative flow of too-tiny-for-my-taste revolutions, of relationship bubbles, of exclusion-minded-communities, regardless of leanings. 

See what I did with all that?

Master craft-working, right? I’m pretty happy about it. Unhappy about the way the moon’s been treated. 

I’m using ellipses in a kind of way. In these fraught times, everything will be taken out of context. But ellipses are a moment of pondering to ponder. They’re a bulwark, too. I don’t have to dis-prove your narrative about my narrative, and your narrative can have its own orbit. We won’t be opposed because of the ellipses. We can stand in the ellipses together in the bigger whole of the thing, which is the thing of craft crafting. Connection. Speaking to larger issues. Etc. Hopefully, anyway, it’s not just about me. I mean…what an awful thing to do to words. To art.

So, I’m going to save the moon and Mars with world-enrapturing narrative, irresistible narrative, using nouns. Verbs. Thoughts. Ellipses. Varied sentence lengths, at random and will. All-the-dashes–combining obsessions and activisms into cohesive, experimental literature using my own languages. 

Accessible. 

Timeless. 

That’s what I’m working on.

About Jenny Forrester

Jenny Forrester has been published in Nailed, pompom lit, Seattle’s City Arts, Gobshite Quarterly, GetSparked, One Typed Page, Portland Review, Indiana Review,Columbia Review, and has been anthologized in Places Like Home and Magical Writing with Ariel Gore, and in Listen to Your Mother, Putman. She’s published dozens of emerging and established writers in the Unchaste Anthologies, curates the Unchaste Variety Show and hosts Creatives Study Hall.  She’s been interviewed by Wyoming Public Radio, The Colorado Sun, and other places and has been reviewed by High Country News She’s the author of Narrow River, Wide Sky: A Memoir and Soft Hearted Stories: Seeking Saviors, Cowboy Stylists, and Other Fallacies of Authoritarianism, a Colorado Book Award Finalist, 2020. She seeks connection through jennyforrester.com, unchastereaders.com and various other social media platforms in order to dismantle the anthropocene. 

Save the Moon

Thank you for reading “Please Read: Save the Moon” by Jenny Forrester.

The post Please read: Save the Moon appeared first on Kate Ristau.

Sentence Fragments

Sentence fragments. What are they? Need a refresher? I’m here for you. It all has to do with commas.

Just push the comma key, right?
Photo by Василь Вовк on Pexels.com

Commas! I’ve heard you just put them where you breathe, right?

Apparently, there is rhyme and reason to commas. In fact, Maren Bradley Anderson and I wrote a whole book about them – Commas: An Irreverent Primer.

I’ve always been one of those people who SUPER DOES NOT CARE about grammar. I learned most of my grammar through reading (studies show this is a good way to learn it). But I had to learn grammar in order to teach it, so here is a helpful thing I learned to get us started.

Sentence Fragments

Sentence fragments are phrases that are not complete sentences. They usually don’t have a subject or a verb. Every sentence needs a subject and a verb — somebody or something doing or being something.

Sentence fragments are cool when you sprinkle them through your stories, but not cool if they are all you’ve got.

Example: I ate the pie.

That’s a complete sentence. I is the subject. Ate is the verb.

Fragment: Ate the pie.

No subject. Who ate the pie?

If someone says you have a sentence fragment, just check your subject and your verb.

Drafting?

Quick note – if you are drafting, ignore those fragments! Write freely and happily. Don’t hold yourself back thinking about grammar or sentence length or the shape of your verbs. Just write your story — get it out of your head and onto the page. Sentence-level editing can come later. In fact, I don’t really think about this until I’m far into my third or fourth draft. Your early drafts are for the story. Just fall in love — don’t fall into a comma.

More Tips

For more writing tips, click here.

And, of course, Grammar Girl has a much more detailed, helpful post about sentence fragments here.

The post Sentence Fragments appeared first on Kate Ristau.

Clockbreakers Kickstarter: The End of Time

Clockbreakers Kickstarter – Not the ACTUAL end of time.

Oh, wait. No. CLOCKBREAKERS: THE END OF TIME launches on May 10. Sorry. My bad. 

I’m so stoked for this book. As you probably know, it was almost never published. When my agent worked with New York editors, they wanted to see a character that wasn’t in a wheelchair. That was garbage. Charlie is awesome.

Clockbreakers was originally published by a small press that was struggling financially. They worked hard to get the series out there, and now the final book will be published by my own small press, Hopewell Books.

But I need your help to make that happen.

The Kickstarter for the book is now open. With your help, in 100 days, the book will hit the shelves. WOOOO-HOOOOO!!!

You can pre-order your book, and get in on some wild rewards. 

For example, you can officially become a GOD — like Eric Witchey and Jeanne Anderson. Then, you get an alarm clock, the whole series, and an important decision: will you destroy time, or protect it?

Important point about the Clockbreakers Kickstarter

If you don’t like the books, and just like me, you can always support me without a reward. I am not insulted by this. I actually think it’s great. Let’s hang out. We don’t have to talk about my books.

But, Kate! I love talking about your books

I am here for you, and so is Asterion the minotaur! He stopped by to chat this morning. You’ll love him too. You two are going to be, like, total besties.

Asterion recommends CLOCKBREAKERS: THE END OF TIME. Trust him. He’s a Minotaur.

Join the Clockbreakers Kickstarter!

The post Clockbreakers Kickstarter: The End of Time appeared first on Kate Ristau.

Revising Tips: Use Notecards

Do you ever find yourself trapped in your revising? Maybe you’ve edited your book five times, maybe you’ve reviewed a few paragraphs over and over again. Maybe that poem has seen quite a bit of your red pen.

You know there are things to fix, so you start at the beginning again, and work your way through, editing as you go, step-by-step.

Trust me; I’ve been there, lost in the unending forest of editing and despair. I am deep in the throes of editing a novella. I’ve done my first pass, worked through a second pass, and am now onto a third pass.

This third pass is a little different. I know what I need to do, but I don’t want to start at the beginning and slowly work my way through the novel again. I’ve done that, and at this point, I know it will not be as helpful. Right now, the book has some specific issues that I need to address related to characters and plot points.

Specific Revising Fixes

I personally find it helpful to take a break from reading through for edits to focus in on these specific fixes. I have a growing list that has been piling up — character details, info about relationships, clarifications on setting. Those types of things need to be hunted down and fixed.

Now is the time, but honestly? The task seems overwhelming.

Break it up, Buttercup

Whenever revising threatens to consume my soul, I try and break the edits down into parts — which you saw me doing above. I’ve gathered my list, considered what needs to be changed. That’s step number one.

Then, I take those fixes and make them as small as possible – something I could accomplish in under 20 minutes. Once I have those bite-sized bits, I write them onto cards.

For example, right now, I have a card on my desk saying the Lethe War is after the Great War. This is related to a very specific issue I am having with my historical timeline. That card reminds me to fix it. Today, I will search through the manuscript for references to either war and make sure that the timeline is correct. This is a task that can be managed in a small chunk.

For me and for many writers I know, editing is difficult because it is hard to find the time. Editing requires deep thinking and deep work. When you have little kids, or little dogs, or too little of your own time, it’s hard to make the time to dive in deep.

Every time you try to make a pass, your dog starts barking at the mailman (I used to think this was just a comic strip gag, but in our house, it’s a real daily occurrence).

By breaking your editing into manageable pieces, you can begin to find the sparkle in that draft; eventually, you’ll work your way to shiny.

Revising? Tear it up!

The good thing? Once I’ve finished making each small edit, I rip up that card and throw it straight into the recycling.

Rip. Toss. Sigh.

It is very cathartic. It helps to have a physical sign that I am moving forward — that something is happening in the middle of all that work. Sometimes, it’s hard to see the end game. If you give yourself little boxes to check (or rip apart) along the way, you’ll feel like you are making progress in your fight against the printed page. And eventually, you’ll find yourself staring at a shiny, sparkling draft.

Small victories, right? All those little things you do with eventually add up to something great.

When you are writing a novel, you need to find ways to make the work manageable, and cards are one way I do that. They make the work achievable, and check-offable (that’s a word, right?).

One last note

I also put the cards all over my desk. I don’t pile them in the corner – I spread them out. They take up space and remind me that I have to do the work. Revising takes time. By the time my desk is clean, I’m ready for the next step in my revision.

Happy editing, my friends!

You can find more writing tips here.

Also, you can always join me at Willamette Writers coffee meetings on Tuesday mornings to talk writing!

The post Revising Tips: Use Notecards appeared first on Kate Ristau.

Writing tips and baking quips

Hey there, friend. Are you ready for some Writing tips and baking quips?

I am here for you. OMG I have been baking so much. If you don’t like baking, skip to the next section (trust me). My kid and I have made chive and cheddar sourdough biscuits, sourdough crackers, and so much sourdough bread. 

I got a starter from my friend and author Simone Cooper. I love it! Since it sits on my counter, and I have to feed it every day, it encourages me and reminds to make something. A slightly yeasty smell permeates the kitchen.

But, my dudes, I have made some GROSS stuff. Like I found a bread recipe that I can turn into sponges and a biscuit recipe that I can feed the dogs. 

Baking, though, has opened me up a little bit. It’s sparked a different side to my creativity. The act of creating — and failing too — urges me forward in other areas. It challenges me to think and work differently. 

Or, it doesn’t, and I sit on my couch and eat bread. 

For Readers

I’ve almost made it through my stack of Christmas books. If you follow me on Twitter, you’ve probably heard me raving about Alix E. Harrow. I LOVE (times inifinity) her book The Ten Thousand Doors of January. The book was a finalist for, like, all the awards. It has that delicious feeling of possibility running throughout. If you like portal fantasy, like Clockbreakers, you’ll love this book. If you hated Clockbreakers, you’ll still love this book! It’s not for kids, but it is for you.

For Writers (Writing tips and baking quips)

Social media is a solid way to waste our time, right? Or, you know, build a brand or whatever. I read an article by Rachel Reichenbach on her blog that talked about increasing your engagement on Instagram. She worked with someone from Instagram, and got the yeast on how to build her brand effectively, and shared the whole loaf (bread metaphors FTW).

ENGAGE!

She has quite a few good tips, so I won’t steal her thunder, but one I found interesting — Instagram increases your visibility if you are using Reels. That’s their new TikTok RipOff. Using Reels will increase your reach elsewhere on Insta.

Check out the article. It’s worth your time. Plus, she makes cool comics. 

But Kate, how did it help you?

By the way, the result of me reading that article was that I went on Reels and proceeded to find a video I can use to learn to Instagram Dance like the cool kids. Expect something wonderful, my friends. 

What I’m up to

Writing tips and baking quips and a whole lot of punching. 

What I’m not up to

I haven’t figured out this dance yet.

The post Writing tips and baking quips appeared first on Kate Ristau.

Writing in January

New Year …

I am so happy we are making our way into a new year. I’m ready to put 2020 to bed. All this time away from family and friends has been so frustrating, interminable, and sometimes frightening. Our stories have changed as our everyday lives have been transformed. In some ways, they’ve become smaller and confined, but also more focused. We are paring down to the things that matter.

I see that in my everyday life. All those things that used to eat away at my time have disappeared. I’ve had to remind myself to turn on my car and check the battery — that there is a world outside that I have not visited.

We’ve been home. Home, home, home. And home has come to mean so much more. It is our place of safety, our place of rest, and our place of belonging.

We have gone to the dogs.

Honestly, for many of us, when it isn’t those things — because of people or circumstance or pain — those are the stories that eat away at us.

In this new year, I’m sending you wishes of home, wherever yours may be. I’m hoping the feeling of home fills you up and if you can’t find it when you need it, you can create it for yourself.

Here’s to a 2021 that starts at home and then moves back out into the word with hope and understanding — with a prick in the arm and a shimmer of light.

Writing Prompts



2020
2020 was a year full of extremes — fire and virus and death and everything else. It’s yours now to remember however you wish. How will you describe 2020? What adjectives will you use? What verbs? What nouns? Don’t try and write a story or a poem, just make a list. Or don’t! Put it right into the garbage.
…The insatiability of me
If you haven’t noticed, I’m hungry. It comes out in my writing — all that thirst and desire. I hope you have something you want, too. What do you want today? Is it food? A hug? A compliment? Take a moment and write a stanza or two. Begin with what you want, and write your way into it. How will you get what you need?
…Resolutions
For some people, resolution is a dirty word. For others, it is a lifesaver. Research shows that beginning anew on a pivotal day, like a new year, or even a Monday, can help you achieve your goals. So, as we start the new year, what are you resolving to do? Write down those resolutions and email them to yourself as a reminder of your intention. I personally only make goals in the 3-6 month zone. Honestly, I can’t even imagine Act Two of 2021 yet! I hope it is shinier.

You can find more writing tips here. Happy writing, my friends.

The post Writing in January appeared first on Kate Ristau.

Memory-making in December

Memory-making

I love this time of year. It’s all about traditions and memory-making. We recall the winters that came before, and consider the upcoming season. Together, we pause. But not yet. There’s work to do. We are shifting toward celebration, but the holiday isn’t here yet. Inside our house, our family puts up a tree, gathers around the fire, and tries not to eat all of Santa’s cookies. We hang ornaments and stockings and carefully lay all our plans. The season and the weather pulls us toward the end of the year, where we will put the months and days to sleep and awake renewed and refreshed. We can feel it coming, and so we decorate, we create, we celebrate. This year is a strange one — all those traditions that held our days together are slipping away, being replaced by Zoom calls and screenshots. But the earth continues its journey around the sun, and together, we still revel in its mystery. Though we are apart, we remember those who traveled with us this year, and those who company we desperately miss. We prepare; we gather. We await the turning of the year.

Writing Prompts



Ornament
You see it there, hanging on the tree, a gift, a decoration. It’s full of life and light. Describe it for us. Who made it? Where did it come from? What makes it unique? Its color? Its shape? Who was the last person to hold it in their hands? Who will hold it next?
…The inevitability of snow
I grew up in the Midwest, where the snow starts falling in the fall and doesn’t stop until the spring. Snow for me is wet gloves and extra socks. What article of clothing makes you think of snow? Write a short stanza or two for the clothes that will bring you through to the spring.
…Memories
Your character is sitting down at their table with their head bent over an empty page. They have something to tell their best friend about memories, about how memories can slip and slide into our lives and change our stories. How they can transform us into people we did not imagine — or did not intend. Your character has been hiding this memory, or keeping it safe. Let them write to their friend. Let them share their memory — how it changed them for the better or for the forever. Let them tell the story of what of what happened.

The post Memory-making in December appeared first on Kate Ristau.

Welcoming December

Chill…

There’s a delicious chill in the air this morning. It’s our first glimpse of the coming winter. I love pulling on a warm sweater and heading outside for a walk with my dogs before winter rushes in. These moments between seasons have a certain shine to them. We are in-between. Folkorists, like me, call in-between moments liminal. Usually, we use them to refer to times of celebration and times of change. A good example is New Year’s Eve, when we are on the cusp of a New Year. We also see twilight as a liminal time. These liminal moments can be times of great possibility and change — where we make new resolutions, create new relationships, or dissolve old ones. Liminal moments are when we stand on a threshold. When we start to look around, we realize that our lives are full of moments like these — the seasons change, light turns to dark, and we even celebrate rites of passage together to mark the most important of transitions. So, as you prepare for the upcoming holiday, bring with you the things you need, and cast off those that you don’t. It’s your season; it’s your time.

Writing Prompts



Want
What do you want today? Kurt Vonnegut said that we should give our characters something that they want, even if it’s “only a glass of water.” If someone was writing the story of you, what would they write? What do you want? What drives you? Take a moment and write down what you want.
…The insecurity of snowmen
Think of a snowman. I bet your imagination went straight to Frosty, with his corncob pipe and button nose. Or, maybe you thought of Olaf, with his gentleness and unexpected philosophizing. Now, take all those expectations and throw them out the window. What would a snowman really be like? Would he be filled with joy? Would she prefer the title Snow Queen? Bundle up, dive down into the snow, and tell us a story.
…Chairs
You always sit in that chair, but you’ve never really examined it, considered it. Take a moment and write a poem about your chair. Consider it’s legs, the seat, the way it wobbles or doesn’t. If it could talk, what would it say? Would it whisper or raise its voice? Tell us about your chair.

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Grateful, really!

Thankful …

One of my friend’s favorite daily practices is a gratitude journal. Every day, she wraps up her day by saying what she is thankful for. It can be something little, or something really big. A cup of coffee. Some quiet time with a book. A phone call with a friend. An unexpected gift. A good conversation. I’ve tried to follow in her footsteps, but after forgetting and remembering and forgetting and remembering, I decided I am grateful she is grateful, and I am grateful when I remember to be grateful! I’m not the type of person that wants to load myself down with responsibilities that are supposed to make me a better person but ultimately make me disappointed in myself. Gratitude is supposed to be a good thing! During this time of Thanksgiving, take a moment to be thankful for the wonder of you — without any extra assignments! You are a great friend. A good high-fiver. A nice person. Celebrate that. But if you do need a little extra writing boost, check out the prompts on your right! And one last thing — I’m thankful for you!

Writing Prompts



Ring
The phone is ringing. It’s loud and incessant. You push ignore, but they call back. They won’t stop calling until you answer the phone. Who is on the other end of the line? And why are they calling at this time of the day?
…The reliability of pie
There’s a pie sitting on your character’s counter (pick any character you want to explore). What flavor is the pie? Who made it? Why did they make it? Are they ever going to make another one? Did their grandmother ever make them pie? What about their mom? How does pie make them feel? Are they very particular about how the pie is cut, or just happy to get it onto the plate? Take your time and explore that pie!
…A poem for fall
Answer one question in each line of a poem:



What does fall taste like?Who reminds you of fall?What is the sound of fall?What color is fall?What happens during the fall?Continue explaining what happens during fall.Who do you miss during fall?How does fall make you feel?

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