Writing Prompt Pit Stop: Metamorphosis

Welcome to Writing Prompt Pit Stop! This week I’m thinking about transformation, or metamorphosis if you will. When I think about metamorphosis I associate it with two things usually: caterpillar changing into a butterfly, and a cool art piece I did once changing myself into my pair of sunglasses (an assignment to change into some possession we used often and could bring into class). Lately, I’ve been thinking about change a lot as it seems like so many of my friends have been going through transitions of sorts whether it be dating new people and fumbling their way through that experience to having monumental writer’s blocks. Both are totally different experiences, but they both bring about a transformation in one way or the other, good or bad.

Since I post writing prompts here, we’ll focus on that aspect of it. I have posted here and elsewhere that I don’t believe in “writer’s block” but I do admit to having writing slumps. I believe that as long as you write something everyday you’re not going to have a “writer’s block,” and something can come of that writing even if it doesn’t happen that day. Recently, I’ve had several different writer friends share by phone, in person, or by email that they’ve either stopped writing everyday and it was something of a “guilty confession,” that they can’t get back into writing their novel but they’re so close to “getting done and finding an agent” – yet they’ve become like that proverbial deer with eyes in the headlights, and the most extreme (to me) shared that they’d “burned every one” of their journals because they were over their own writing.

I sympathize, and empathize, with every one of these friends. I also have been going through some strange writing phenomenon (for me), in that I have been writing – but not poems, and not with the intent of poems. Instead, I’ve been writing plays, writing art reviews for another blog, and revising a few short stories, but it’s like my poetry well has dried up. I know it’s not permanent as I’ve gone through it before…not often mind you…but it has happened where I thought the poems were gone. In fact, I once wrote a poem “Poetry Lets Voicemail Pick Up At 3 AM” where in the poem I “confess” that I’ve been cheating on poetry with fiction! Gasp! It’s a fun poem, and it was a way of getting myself back into writing poems. Here’s a stanza from that poem:

I’m not devising a way to take advantage of your imagery.

You used to lay yourself naked on my empty sheets!

We were so well versed together!

Please don’t leave me to the prosaic life, a structured suitor to bitter ends.

So, what have you got to “confess?” What is the metamorphosis that you’re going through right now? This is what we’re going to use for a prompt(s) this week. Your 47th prompt(s):

“Ch..Ch..Cha…Cha…Changes”

1) In your daybook write what you’re wrestling with right now. Is it something with your own writing? Are you having trouble getting words to come out on the page? Do you feel like you’re writing the same old thing over and over? What changes can you make? Is there something that can be changed in your routine? If you’ve always written in the morning, can you write before bed? If you’ve always typed your writing out first, why not try writing in a hardbound journal…or vice versa? Just start writing your worries out and you’ll find that there will be a breakthrough of some sort. Is it a relationship? What can change? Write what you really want to say…even if you (gasp!) burn it. Is it finances? What can you change? What would you be willing to change? You see the theme here….

2) Be nice to yourself. Don’t feel guilty if you’re taking time off from writing. Maybe when you come back to it, it will be there in force. Maybe you’re metamorphosing from a poet to a playwright, or from a fiction writer to an essayist, or from a playwright to a poet. It’s hard to embrace change, but it also can be exhilarating and bring new life to whatever you’re writing.

3) Give a character in a story or a play one of the issues that you’re wrestling with and let them figure it out. Write an essay or a poem on guilt or some change that needs to happen.

4) Whatever you do, just keep writing! So what if nothing comes of it, the process is the thing…and one day you’ll be writing and all of the sudden you’ll hit your stride again.

If you’re so inclined, share some of your “guilt” over not writing…or feeling like you’re not writing what/how you want…and maybe that will jump start your own metamorphosis.

Even better, share it in the comments here!

See you next Wednesday!

 

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5 thoughts on “Writing Prompt Pit Stop: Metamorphosis

  1. Metamorphosis
    Written by Mary Coulter
    July 9, 2014
    A victim knows the mind of a predator better than anyone, including the predator. What they don’t know, is their own mind. Until you are willing to call out his name you will never escape your self-inflicted cocoon and learn to fly.
    I was molested as a very small child. I was attacked at home by my own brother. I was too young to understand what was happening but I knew the mind of sickness. I could see it. I kept his secret out of fear of the unknown. Fear of more attacks; fear of death; fear of others getting hurt and even him getting hurt. I lived in darkness deep inside my own mind. I was a prisoner of my own protection.
    I had to see him every day. Outside the incidences he was normal. Everybody liked him, no one knew him like I did. Over the years, I slowly peaked my way out of my cell. I began wrestling with spilling the beans. But then, I’d see him with his family and see the nice person he is today and stop myself. I even convinced myself I loved this brother of mine and he was just as much a victim as I was. I forgave and went on. I put myself deeper in the cell and tried not to look at myself.
    For 50 years I’ve been in pain because I chose not to tell people what happened to me. Because I chose not to bring my attacker to justice I reigned down an imaginable sentence on myself.
    If forgiving, forgetting is the solution then why didn’t I have the answer? I realize that I have been looking at this all wrong. I was looking at my brother as a person who made a mistake. I was viewing him as the side of him he showed to others. I was judging him by the mask he wore. It was easier to think of him as a nice guy who made a bad mistake than to think of him as a monster. To see him as a monster, I would have to see him as a part of me. The part of him he instilled in my young wounded mind. I remember every breath, every word, every sound, and every smell of that moment. Sickness permeates. I took on his sickness. That is what I have been running from. The evil inside of me.
    Inner turmoil presses up like a fissure in a rock. It presses up to be seen. It has a voice and it will be heard. I now am able to see things for what they are because of one choice I made. I decided to see my brother for the monster that he is. Not was, not sometimes could be under the correct circumstances, but for the sick twisted monster that he is, then and today. Any thing I knew of him outside that moment of torture that changed my life forever is a lie. He is that monster of that moment.
    I should have told on him. I should not have forgiven him. I should not have tried to befriend him and seek his approval. I should have pointed my finger at the face of horror and then my little heart would not have pestered me for 50 years. Pedophiles are all around us. They are our fathers, brothers, sons and uncles. If we keep their secrets they will keep our children.
    Until we are able to talk about it we are allowing it. I can’t make the whole world change but I can change myself. I can set myself free. I can point the finger finally and call out his name. His name is Bobby. It’s time for me to fly!

  2. Hi Lylanne, thank you for this week’s inspiring prompt. I had a lot of fun using only the words from your post to compose the poem ‘Strange’.

    ~

    Strange

    I’m thinking about a caterpillar
    Changing into a pair of sunglasses
    Or vice versa, cool!

    If it happens
    I will write a poem about it,
    Something like this –

    3am, a caterpillar naked on my bed sheets
    Changing into pair of sunglasses! Gasp!
    A monumental transformation.

    That’s not something you see everyday,
    Do I believe
    what I see with my own eyes?

    I will admit to using this experience
    As a way to take advantage of the imagery
    And fumbling my way through “writer’s block.”

    ~

    Lewis 🙂

    • Lewis, I really like this one a lot. It’s playful and meaningful all in one. Actually, I think the poem could be complete just from the third stanza to the end. I wouldn’t take any of the lines or words out of that part at all. Good job on this one, and I’m glad that it was an inspirational one for you. 🙂

      • Hi Lylanne, yes, I see what you mean, so –

        Changes

        3am, a caterpillar naked on my bed sheets
        Changing into pair of sunglasses! Gasp!
        A monumental transformation.

        That’s not something you see everyday,
        Do I believe what I see with my own eyes?

        I will admit to using this experience
        As a way to take advantage of the imagery
        And fumbling my way through “writer’s block.”

        ~

        Lewis 🙂

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