What does it feel like when you can’t get it out? Your big thing, your idea, your Plan To Save The World’s Orphaned Souls. That inexpressible something you wish everyone could understand but they don’t, no matter how hard you try. How often does that happen to you? How often does it happen to people you’ve never agreed with, or never understood?
Meditate on that feeling, and write a story using these three elements:
Setting: An office — home, hi-rise, lo-rise, wherever.
Person: A terrible writer.
Problem: No. One. Understands.
Due December 11. Submit your story as a response to this post, and we’ll share our favorites on Human Parts.
Every few weeks, we post an open thread with a brief writing prompt. Here, some apologies to ourselves — for sushi and boyfriends and blue-green eyes— from last week’s open thread. Thank you for sharing your apologies with us.
Apologize to yourself. For something. One thing. A thing your past self did without your present self’s permission. A thing you could undo, if you could undo things, but nothing important is undoable, and we’re so often asked to thank or treat or gratify ourselves when all we really need…
Mother never liked insects.
She would always criticize my interest in spiders, which was unintentional. Yet she gave me a book about them for Christmas. I accepted it, of course.
Ever wonder why spiders have eight legs? I think the explanation’s simple: each leg represents hope. Hope for good fortune…
Write about someone who carries a spider in their back pocket wherever they go.
You don’t have to mention the spider. Or you can — this is your story. And we’re not sure if the spider would be alive or dead. As long as they carry it with them wherever they go, we’re good.
Due October 30. Share your story as a response below, and we’ll feature our spidey faves on Human Parts.
Every few weeks, we post an open thread with a brief writing prompt. Here are some essays we don’t have time to write — on love, lust, home improvement and more — from this week’s open thread.
In 200 words or less, tell us about an essay or Medium post you don’t have time to write. Just give us the broad strokes: the essay’s topic and the form it would take. Maybe a few inchoate thoughts. Maybe a highlight. A beginning or an ending or a middle. A first sentence or a last. A thing you want the reader to feel as they read this nonexistent essay. Up to you. You haven’t had time to develop this idea into a full-fledged piece — yet — and that’s perfectly okay.
This is inspired by Sarah Ruhl’s book, 100 Essays I Don’t Have Time to Write. It’s wonderful.
Share your unwritten essay as a ‘response’ below. We’ll feature our favorites in a compilation on Human Parts.
It’s fall, which means back-to-school, which means getting up early to get your dreams — or at least feeling like you maybe should get up earlier, even if you don’t. Memories of magnetic Trapper Keepers decorated with self-actualized unicorns, and zippers that unceremoniously broke after the first few zips.
So, in honor of the vague back-to-school aura you might be feeling right now, write a story that includes these three things:
Due October 2. Share your story as a “response” below. We’ll feature our favorites on Human Parts.
Every few weeks, we post an open thread with a brief writing prompt. Here are some highlights from this week’s thread, on drugs that are not drugs.
In 200 words or less, tell us about a place, time, or object that has a drug-like effect on you, though it is not actually a drug. Maybe it’s legal, maybe it’s not. Is this a not-drug your parents would approve of? Do you take this drug often? Once a week, once a minute? Maybe you’re not addicted, but you could be — easily.
Everyone’s got their drug. Even if no one else would recognize it as such.
Share your not-drug as a response below. We’ll use them to post a compilation of non-drugs Human Parts.
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