Prompt 71: Write about a task, job, or chore that you dislike.
Dishes are the bane of my existence. If I had my way I would just buy paper plates and throw all my dishes away. I think that would probably get expensive though. There is just something about sticking my hands in a dirty sink of rotten not eaten food particles mixed with dawn dish soap and lukewarm water just grosses me out. And then my fingers get all pruned and white and they look like old people hands.
I remember once my friend star ;looked sat her hands and said they were starting to look old and that made her sad. Just the other day I was looking at my hands and I thought the same thing. I wonder if hands just age differently, more fast. Because you have to use them so much? I guess if I was rich my hands would be perfect, except for my writers bump.
I prefer to write all my stories out long hand so now I have a callous on my third finger. I can’t stand to hold my pencil on the second finger so I use the third. And actually I can not stand write with a pencil. It makes my teeth hurt to hear the lead of a pencil scratch against a piece of paper. I prefer to write with a black pen, but I can also use blue. But I hate fat pens. They irritate me. And I also hate when you buy a pen and the darn things runs out of ink within the first day of using it.
Ok, five minutes up. Not all of this was about dishes either…:/
And seriously I did not stop typing the entire five minutes. I told you I was a slow typer…
Posted: August 28, 2011 in Life Musings
Tags: amy richie, aunt, Christmas, christmas carols, exchange student, family, god, homesick, India, memories, mom, potato salad
Prompt 71: Write about a memory related to a holiday
I was nineteen and all alone in a foreign country and the holidays were just around the corner. Every year since childhood our whole family on my mom’s side would congeal at our house for a Christmas celebration. We have a very large and loud family. I remember I was sitting by myself in India and thinking about our family Christmas that would have went on without me that year. Mom would have been sitting at the table with grandma, Kerry, and Poohie talking about everything nursing home related, because everyone worked at a nursing home in one way or another. The kids would have been running around screaming or playing hide and seek. Kathy would be talking really loud above everyone else so she could be sure to get her opinion heard. And always there was tons of food. The much anticipated potato salad made by my aunt Poohie, the cheesy potatoes that aunt Kelly brought, dirt cake made by my mom, and just so much more. All I had was MTV( which was the only American channel we got) and a few potato filled Rotis. It was depressing.
Then, in the middle of my self pity fest, I got a call to go on a trip to northern India with about 60 other students like myself. I jumped right on board. It was an amazing trip. And on Christmas night we camped out in the dessert around a huge fire and sang Christmas carols at the top of our lungs. Since we were from all over the world, most of us didn’t know the words to all the songs, just part of them but it was so good to be there with people who were also missing home. It made me feel not so alone and reminded me that no matter where I was in the world I still had family and that God was always with me.
Prompt 70: Pick a character in a day time soap and put him or her in a stranded commuter train. Write about what he or she is feeling or thinking at that moment.
Oh no, why are we stopped? I can’t be late to my appointment. I just can’t understand why all this is happening to me. What did I do to deserve all of this? First my father impregnated my sister, then my brother died in that horrible car accident. But wait, Andrew is still alive. I saw him yesterday. Or maybe that was just his ghost. It is so hard to tell. My mother comes back to talk to me all the time, so why can’t Andrew. I don’t know what we are going to do about Jessica’s baby. My father won’t let her give it up for adoption but here I am going to meet the adoptive parents. How was I supposed to know that the McKenna’s were adopting. Travis told me last night at the hotel that he was leaving his wife. Why isn’t the train moving yet? What am I going to say to Travis’s wife? I wonder if she will be prettier than me.
Prompt 69: It was Erica Jong who said, “If you don’t risk anything, you risk more.” Write about what this means to you.
Life is a risk. Almost everything you do is a risk, unless you sit at home and do nothing. Then again even that is a risk, for health prob;lems.
This is a good quote. It just means that you have to try, other wise you know you have failed.
A risk not taken,
Is a blown chance,
A life not lived,
Ruled by circumstance.
Take the lead,
Follow no more,
Live your life,
Open up doors.
It may be scary
You might be afraid,
And maybe you’ll fail,
But a chance taken is a chance made.
Prompt: Write a country song.
She stood in the doorway
of the hospital room
with teardrops on her face
She could already see
That tiny baby
Dressed in pink and lace
She can’t imagine
How her life
Could get any better than this
It was like
She was always waiting
For her own bundle of bliss
And she’ll always remember
And be thankful for the day
When a young girl named Katie
Showed up at her door to say
“I’m only just sixteen
And I can’t do this on my own
Can’t you please take my baby
And give her a loving home.”
Posted: August 8, 2011 in Uncategorized
I got my book cover today. So excited. Check out my author page on facebook and my website amyrichie.weebly.com!!
Your kids have spent years asking you to get them a dog. You finally break down and get them one only to discover that this dog talks but only to you. More interestingly your dog loves to gossip about your kids and their lives. Write a scene where the dog rats the kids out for doing something they shouldn’t.
I flipped my newspaper up higher, trying my best to avoid the brown eyed stare of Ben, the family dog. His tail thumped heavily on the hard wood floor.
“You can’t ignore me forever,” he said happily.
“I can try,” I muttered.
“I need to go.” He got up and paced to the door and back to my feet.
“Come on Ben, can’t you just open the door and let yourself out?”
He tilted his head to the side in what I was sure was supposed to be adorable. “No, I don’t have thumbs.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, rising from the chair. “Make it fast tonight.” I flipped the back porch light on and opened the door. Ben bounded out and down the steps. I stood waiting for him, rubbing my hands briskly over my arms. “You done yet?”
“Mom, who are you talking to?” Matthew, my oldest son asked from the screen door.
“No one.” I turned quickly. “Ben, but he wasn’t answering me,” I said quickly.
He raised his dark eyebrows. “Ok. I’m going to Randy’s. Be back in a few hours.”
“It’s kind of late.”
“Mom, I’m not a baby anymore.”
Right, I had forgotten how big he was getting. It was hard not to see him as a little kid anymore. “Yeah, I know. Be careful.” I watched sadly as he left. When had he gotten so big?
“You should have made him stay home you know,” Ben said bouncing back inside.
I followed and shut the door. “He’s old enough, why wouldn’t I?”
“He’s not going to randy’s.”
“What? Where is he going?”
My eyes widened. “Who’s that?”
“His girlfriend.” Ben sang the word into several syllables.
“I don’t…” I shook my head in disbelief.
“And everyone knows,” Ben continued, “that Ally likes to go all the way.”
My mouth dropped open. I had never signed up to raise teenagers