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On #Writing Prompts: Guest post by Maura Fitzgerald

For the last several years, I’ve been the sole teacher for a group of senior citizens in a Creative Writing Class at Harwood Place Retirement Living Center. This year, I invited a fellow writer, Maura Fitzgerald, to join me as co-teacher. She’s taken on the role with enthusiasm and dedication. (It’s tough to get up early on a Saturday morning to talk essays and poetry and “homework for next month.” Ask the seniors, they just requested to push the start time to a half an hour later!). Today, Maura shares a bit about teaching, about students young and old, and about the power and mystery in prompts. And yes, she leaves you with an assignment.

In Praise of Prompts

by Maura Fitzgerald

I once gave a group of 8th graders the prompt, When I am hungry…, and said “No rules. Just write.” Surely this exercise for kids who are almost always hungry would unleash their creative wild child to roam free across the blank page and leave a trail of original thoughts and insights. Instead, hands shot up. “Do you mean what do I eat when I’m hungry?” or “When I’m hungry for what?” and “I’m never hungry.”

Several students responded to the ‘hungry’ prompt by simply writing “I eat,” or they listed favorite foods. (Okay, prompts don’t always work.) But others were surprising and fresh on the page: A brief conversation between a girl and her empty, gurgling stomach; A boy who stuffed himself with fortune cookies for nutrition and wisdom.  Same prompt, very different treks across the vacant space.

Recently, I gave our group of writers at Harwood Place the essay, “The Potato Harvest,” by April Monroe, in which she describes how easily her garden surrenders to the approaching autumn.  After reading the essay, the group’s prompt was “Surrender.” Around the edges of the silence that followed, I sensed discomfort with the prompt. But I let it be. Prompts don’t come with comfort scores. In fact, discomfort can sometimes butt-kick a pen like nothing else. (Try it sometime with a prompt that chafes or confounds and confuses.)

The students—young and old—reacted like many writers do when facing a prompt. We crave directions for traversing the wide-open landscape of empty paper. Give me a destination and show me the landmarks along the way. Please. A compass might help, too.

The thing is, prompts come without instructions. On purpose. That’s why they work. Creativity holes up in unexpected places, so a writer must put pen to paper and follow the prompt to the unexpected.

While many writers don’t use written prompts, we encounter them daily.

A  waitress’s hairy arms or the brick-solid nurse whose name tag says Taffy. Sunday voices spreading salvation through open church doors. Sounds and sights and smells to catalogue for future use. Details that say, “follow me.”

Used items from MECCA, a clearinghouse in Eugene, Oregon that’s filled with scraps and discards for creative use—a clearinghouse of prompts. Newspapers and magazines from the 50s, family photo albums, previously sent greeting cards and letters, unusual postage stamps. I don’t need any of it. And I’m no hoarder. But there are countless items that prey on my curiosity. Who wrote this 1942 letter and what’s with the photo of the man and goat on the porch? I always leave with a bag of treasures competing for Prompt of the Day.

Even the local crime report: “Mints, a phone charger, and a softball were taken from a locked car…”  Who takes mints and a softball? Write about it.

Or park yourself in any airport or Laundromat and scribble away.

Go ahead, grab hold of a prompt and let it pull you in. Relax and enjoy the ride.

I’ll leave you with this prompt, a few lines from Mary Chapin Carpenter’s “I am a Town.”

I’m the language of the natives, I’m a cadence and a drawl
I’m the pines behind the graveyard, and the cool beneath their shade….

Read the full lyrics to the song here. Then, write details of a town from the viewpoint of the town.

Maura Fitzgerald has written nonprofit grant, marketing and communications, annual reports, and campaign appeals. Her nonfiction has appeared in Milwaukee Magazine and her fiction in Pank. Her writing has been featured on Milwaukee Public Radio, and she has done public readings at Fixx Coffee Shop and Woodland Pattern Book Center. She has taught creative writing to 8th and 9th grade students through Pathways Milwaukee, and presently co-leads the Harwood Place Writers Group with Christi.

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Remington Roundup:
Upcoming Events, an Online Course, & Giveaways

1960's photo of woman at Remington typewriterSeptember rolls in with a new season in the air, a new perspective as the sun shifts its angle in the sky, and a new Remington Roundup. This month, find information on a few upcoming events (where we might see each other in person), my next online course (where I hope to get to read your great writing), and two upcoming author interviews and book giveaways!

Upcoming Events

DOORS OPEN MILWAUKEE
When: September 23-24, 2017
Where: Metropolitan Milwaukee

Doors Open Milwaukee is an annual event during which buildings all over the city make their spaces free and open to the public. Explore architecture, the arts, and the outdoors (this year, you can visit 170 buildings…if you have the stamina!).

Inspiration Studios (pictured above and located at 1500 S. 73rd St., West Allis, WI), the creative space that houses my tiny writing space, is open from 12-5pm each day.

Stop by, hear about a bit about the building’s history, check out the theater and the gallery, and be sure to head to my studio on the 2nd floor to say hello! There’ll be treats to nibble on, raffles to enter, and no-pressure writing sprints (F.U.N.). The sprints are scheduled for Saturday @ 1pm & 4pm and Sunday @ 12:30pm & 2pm. So if you stop by and see people scribbling furiously, know you are witnessing stories in the making.

WISCONSIN WRITERS ASSOCIATION FALL CONFERENCE 2017
When: October 6-7, 2017
Where: Riverwalk Hotel in Neenah, WI

If you’re in or near central Wisconsin at the start of October, join me and a host of other writers and authors for a weekend of craft and creativity at the Wisconsin Writers Association Fall Conference.

I’m presenting on Flash Nonfiction: the art of the short essay, but there is a long list of excellent workshops where you might uncover new ideas, critique a few pages, or craft a new poem.

Check out the full list, pack up your pen and paper, and meet me at the Riverwalk!

Online Course

Drawing of online connectionSeptember also kicks off registration for one of my favorite online courses: Principles & Prompts.

I’ve taught this 6-week class for a while now, and I love it every time. It’s a low-stakes learning experience that promises to keep you inspired and connected with writing during a time when holiday planning (and, who are we kidding…eating) takes precedence. You know how it is: you turn your calendar to November, start planning a family festivity (or twenty) and suddenly that writing journal becomes a book of to-do’s.

Each week in Principles & Prompts, you’ll find a link to an inspiring video or text, a tiny lesson on creativity & craft,  and a writing prompt. We also share our work with others, which means this course also connects you to a greater community of writers. In other words, your inspiration and encouragement doesn’t end with the last day of class.

Principles & Prompts runs from November 5th to December 16th. Join us!  REGISTRATION IS OPEN.

#Giveaways

This month, I’m hosting Patricia Ann McNair for a Q&A and giveaway about her new collection of essays, And These Are The Good Times (Side Street Press). I already have her interview in the queue, and you don’t want to miss her thoughts on writing–the questions, the reflections, how we respond–and her love of a city where connection and story are everywhere. Never mind the fact that if you stop by the interview, you could win a copy of her book (but not my copy…I’m not letting this one go!).

In October, Michael Shou-Yung Shum will talk about his debut novel, Queen of Spades (Forest Avenue Press), a book that Frederick Barthelme (Bob the Gambler) calls, “a lovely and complex gambling fairy tale that twists and turns in intriguing ways on its way to a most satisfying conclusion.” I’m loving this read so far. And when you stop by for the giveaway–where you eye up what’s available to win, drop your name into the hat, and cross your fingers your number pops up–it will be *almost* like playing the tables.

These two upcoming interviews mark both the 58th and 59th author Q&A I’ve posted on the blog. That’s an average of 9 books a year since my first Q&A with Beth Hoffman. Maybe that doesn’t sound like much to you, but considering what a sloooow reader I am, it’s a thrill to see that number grow and think of the stacks of stories I’ve had the chance to share.

But none of this happens without you. If you’re a subscriber, thanks for reading. If you found this via some internet search or social media, thanks for making that extra click to get here.

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Excerpt from Life on the Loose by Cari Taylor-Carlson
(And there’s a giveaway!)

“Everything changes when you’re at the edge, ready to slide into a river that will take you into the abyss, the unknown.” ~ from Life on the Loose: My Journey from Suburban Housewife to Outdoor Guide

Christi here. I have two visions of myself: Christi Imagined and The Real Me. Christi Imagined loves to hike the narrow trail, camps with ease, and packs only one bag of absolute necessities. The Real Me marks the map for the nearest ER, stocks up on meals, snacks, water, meds, books to read (who can take just one?), a journal & pens (of varying thickness–fine, medium, BOLD!), too many clothes, an extra pair of shoes, chapstick…wait, make it my fave: Burt’s Bees lip shimmer, two colors (I want to look good in the woods). That “one bag” bit? I have a lot to learn.

Cari Taylor-Carlson, author of Life on the Loose: My Journey from Suburban Housewife to Outdoor Guide, can teach me plenty. Below is an excerpt from the first chapter of her book, a quick view into her story of outdoor guide experiences learned first-hand, sometimes the hard way. Eric Hansen (Hiking Wisconsin) calls this a “nonstop action” memoir; Robert Vaughan (Funhouse) says “Taylor-Carlson maintains composure, grit, integrity, all in the throes of arduous adventures in nature that many of us won’t even dare to take.” So when you reach the end of this excerpt and find yourself wanting more, ENTER THE GIVEAWAY for a chance to win your own copy of her book! Deadline: Tuesday, Sept. 5th.

Now on to a sneak peek at Cari Taylor-Carlson’s Life on the Loose!

Solo on the Green

“You’re the only person on the river this week,” Dirk said as he helped load my canoe. “Oh, you’re traveling light.  Do you have enough food, warm clothes?” His muscles bulged from hauling canoes. “Most people we put in fill the canoe.” He should know, as one of the three brothers who owned Tex’s Riverways, my canoe outfitter. They launched hundreds of canoes each season. Good thing he couldn’t hear my heart slam against my chest.

I had brought two duffels, stuffed with clothes, food, and gear. Six gallons of water, a Coleman stove, and those duffels didn’t take up much space in an eighteen-foot aluminum canoe. It looked as empty as I felt. The breakfast cheese omelet and hash brown potatoes at the Westerner Cafe couldn’t fill the scared hole in my belly.

Dirk added to my growing panic when he said in a flat voice, “You know my concern for your safety requires me to tell you what you’re doing is dangerous. This is off-season.” He walked to the bank where I sat in the canoe, and put his hand in the water as if to judge the current. “Ordinarily, we tell people if they run into trouble, another canoe will come along within an hour. For you, no such luck.” He looked smug, as if confident in some secret knowledge of pitfalls looming ahead of me on the river.

When I planned this trip down the Green River in Utah, I’d arrived at a midlife junction. It was time to start the business I had dreamed about for many years, adventure travel guide. I loved the symbolism: launch a canoe, launch a new life. Ten, fifteen miles a day in a mild current would be about right for an experienced paddler checking out an adventure for her soon-to-be clients. I envisioned warm sunny days, sixty to seventy degrees, with a slight chill at night, spectacular canyon scenery, and around every bend, convenient campsites on sandbars. It added up to a dream wilderness trip in my favorite Western state. What could go wrong? I relished the challenge, a chance to prove to myself that I could be an intrepid adventurer.

At breakfast, a man at an adjacent table announced in a loud voice, “The dog’s water froze last night.  It was twenty-three when I went to bed at ten.” He slung a winter jacket on a chair, gulped his coffee, and took off his gloves. “Feels nice and warm in here.” He looked at me as if he could read my mind. How could he know?

In exactly thirty minutes I would leave for the river and five nights in a tent. Did I have to do this? Yes, if I wanted to reinvent myself as an outdoor guide. Thanks to lack of weather foresight and a habit of traveling light, my wardrobe included neither a fleece jacket nor long underwear. I knew better, but packed for Utah, not Montana. To my credit, I brought a rain jacket and rain pants that came in handy for warmth at night when I needed to wear everything I’d packed.

Food had been my primary concern, not my wardrobe. I had planned meals down to the cheese sauce for the Pasta Alfredo, fresh garlic, and the curry powder for the chicken. I would eat well.

As I stood by the river, strong, confident, free dissolved into small, insignificant, scared.  At home, the Green River was a cute little wiggly blue line on a map.  Now those fifty-five miles from Ruby Ranch to Mineral Bottoms looked more like a Lewis and Clark expedition than a casual six day outing. At least I was going downstream, not up. I should have done some research, made a plan that more closely matched the risks of this solo voyage. As an experienced outdoors person, I should have known to bring fleece, even to Utah in early November.

Would I find campsites? Did I have enough food, water, fuel, and what if my stove broke down?

Then Dirk said, “When it’s time to come off the river, you’ll come around a bend and see a cottonwood on the left bank. It’s a big tree.” He walked to the bank and started to slide the canoe into the river.  “You can’t miss it.  Get ready to pull out there.”

“That’s it? You want me to watch for one tree? Anything else I should look for?”  Now I felt the fear that would obsess me all day, every day, until I found that cottonwood.  That fear sucked the joy out of the trip. Of course I could miss it. Could I watch both sides of the river at the same time in a current that whipped me around every bend?

“Oh, you’ll recognize the tree. It’s at Mineral Bottoms, right in front of you.” When he said this, his voice a monotone, he wouldn’t look me in the eye, just stared at the river.  I knew what he thought.  This middle-aged woman is crazy. His disdain for my adventure eroded every remaining fragment of my fragile confidence. Damn Dirk. Damn the river.  Damn my confident plan back in Milwaukee.

If I got myself into a jam, there was no one to lend a hand.  The Green flowed through a wilderness canyon. I had choices; let go of the dream and stay the course in suburbia, or turn off the monkey-babble in my head, get in the canoe, and paddle.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He didn’t ask about a cell phone. I didn’t have one, but even if I did, it would have been useless in the canyon.  Would I admit to Dirk that I was scared? Never. Just in case, we made a plan, because this mother of four wasn’t ready to feed a turkey vulture in the desert.

“If you’re more than a day late,” he said, “I’ll send a helicopter to search for you.”

Dirk didn’t know I would swim miles in the murky Green, before I’d flag down a helicopter, nor pay hundreds of dollars for a rescue. There would be a way out of that canyon even if I had to crawl naked and bloody over prickly pear cactus all the way. Still, it was comforting to know we had a plan.

Everything changes when you’re at the edge, ready to slide into a river that will take you into the abyss, the unknown. Could I flip a switch, let go of my predictable life? A tree branch floated downriver and disappeared, and finally, tentatively, I let go of the root that bound me to the riverbank. The current caught the bow of my canoe, and in thirty seconds, I was three hundred yards downriver. I wouldn’t need to paddle, the Green would do the work. There was no turning back.

~

Cari Taylor-Carlson (right), ran her own business, Venture West-guided outdoor adventures, for 32 years and was the founder of the “Milwaukee Walking and Eating Society.” She is best known as a food writer and is the author of several books on the city’s dining scene, including Milwaukee Eats, Milwaukee’s Best Cheap Eats, and The Food Lover’s Guide to Milwaukee. She also wrote about restaurants for 18 years for M Magazine and has been a regular contributor to WUWW-FM’s “Lake Effect.” Visit her website: lifeontheloose.com. 

ABOUT THE BOOK: Life on the Loose: My Journey from Suburban Housewife to Outdoor Guide explores Cari Taylor-Carlson’s thirty-two year adventure with Venture West as she and her customers traveled the world with backpacks, canoes and kayaks. In the beginning, a painful divorce led Cari Taylor-Carlson to recognize her need for wilderness, her safe place. The book, then, takes us on two journeys–the internal angst of the guide and the external beauty of the places she traveled.

~

REMEMBER: Enter the GIVEAWAY
for a chance to win a copy of Life on the Loose!