I love books about craft. Throw some inspiration in there, I’m sold. Anything that gets me itching to write. Naturally then, when The Book of Alchemy: A Creative Practice for an Inspired Life by
landed on my desk, I ate it up. It’s a bunch of artists whose work I love writing about their practices, goals and breakthroughs — plus, they each share prompts, which have been so fun to explore.Inspired by the book, we’re borrowing the prompt that New Yorker writer Jia Tolentino shared. It is: “Go outside for 15 minutes, at sunset if possible, and pay attention to nothing but your immediate surroundings. Write down what you see and what it makes you think of. Try your best to avoid extrapolating usable meaning for once. Just be an eye.” Want to try this exercise and share a bit of what you wrote here? We’d love to read what you came up with below!
P.S. Last time, we mentioned that the person whose comment got the most likes would win a free one-year Narratively Academy subscription. This week, we’re excited to announce that the winner is
for her oh-so-relatable anecdote. Thanks for sharing, Phyllis — we’ll be in touch! Let’s do it again, shall we? This week, if your comment gets the most likes, we’ll send you a copy of one of our favorite books, Creative Nonfiction: The Final Issue, co-edited by legendary editor Lee Gutkind. So, type — and like — away!
As I sat on my front stoop a few minutes after sunset, I exhaled for the first time that day. My cul da sac was quiet as usual, except for my neighbors heading home and a black and white cat crossing the street and entering my yard. A neighbor walking for exercise, talking on her phone briefly broke the silence. While sitting there, one by one the color-changing solar lights that I had placed on both sides of my stoop came on. Lighting my both my spirit and my yard with brilliant spirals of color.
The scent of sticky mats and sweaty feet fills the air. I sit on a carpet, likely teeming with countless germs. I'm typing on my computer, awaiting inspiration. I make an effort to write. Anything will do. Yet this prompt is all that comes to mind. I am torn between watching the energetic children bouncing on the blue mats and focusing on my screen. My screen, thankfully, wins the battle.
Writing this makes my back tense up. My posture is like a broken, old door hinge. I’ve always carried tension in my back and neck. It doesn't help that I keep slouching over the keyboard instead of sitting up straight. But life has weighed me down lately. Making itself at home in the contours of my muscles. Pushing and pulling me down until there’s nothing left to do but breathe through the spasms.
I look at all the kids whose bodies remain untouched by the burden of the world. Flexible and loose. I haven’t felt this loose since I was a child myself. I envy their fluidity. The freedom in throwing your body in the air and knowing it’ll catch you in the fall. I don’t wish to be younger but less burdened by the weight of responsibilities. Of awkward conversations. Of painful decisions. But that’s life, I guess. One endless back spasm after another.