Video: Telling Your Secrets Can Set You Free | Melissa Febos
Melissa Febos never planned to write a book about her experiences as a heroin addict and professional dominatrix, but the result of exposing and making sense out of her dark history had profound and unexpected results. By making her darkness visible, she reached thousands of strangers and became closer with her own family. “This kind of honesty,” she claims, “makes room for every kind of love.”
Michael Simms: Writing Prompt #7 | Jumping into the Mud
Here’s an exercise which I call Jumping into the Mud although it’s sometimes called by the more prosaic name automatic writing. The exercise helps to loosen my imagination, and sometimes a decent poem results as well.
Naomi Shihab Nye & Michael Simms: Writing Prompt # 6 | Dear Vaccine
As we enter our new lives
will we remember
the faster we moved
the sicker we got?
Jena Schwartz: Writing Prompt #5 | One Little Acorn
“The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
Jena Schwartz: Writing Prompt # 4 |The Book of Secrets
I find this to be such a comforting notion, that if we listen carefully, we can remember things we knew before we were born.
Beth Peyton: Writing Prompt # 3 | Rhododendrons and Kangaroos
Pick up three objects from a shelf, or a mantel, or your kitchen counter and describe them in detail. Why did you choose them? What stories do they contain?
Valerie Bacharach: Gratitude Journal
I was sure that I had failed my mother, unable to keep her in her home, as I had once promised.
Rosaly DeMaios Roffman: Writing Prompt #2 | An Imaginary Phone Call
Make an imaginary phone call to some person or thing to tell them something you never told them.
Michael Simms: Writing Prompt #1 | The Quotidian Poem
This post marks the beginning of a new irregular feature in Vox Populi. I hope readers of Vox Populi, many of whom are writers, will find the prompt helpful in stimulating their creativity.
Adrian Blevins: How I wrote The Brass Girl Brouhaha
I wrote The Brass Girl Brouhaha by tattooing the word WRONG across my heart to help me muster the strength I’d need to argue with a world that wanted me to say “hey, y’all!” in a hill-country accent sipping tea under a dogwood in a pink smock smattered with etchings of ivy.
Michael Simms: Variations on Vallejo
They killed you in Memphis on a Thursday.
On a balcony with your friends
You held your hands on the railing
And looked over the long field
Into the next life.
Vox Populi 