THE Andrea

The Write-Brain Workbook - Day 64 Write, and whenever you get to a word, use it!! Start with:

The hypnotist promised he could help me lose weight. I was skeptical, of course, but after my mind went into circles on yay or nay, I finally gave in. I've tried everything else under the sun. Why stop now? The drive to his office was long, the walk up the stairs was even longer. I waited in the lobby for awhile. Just as I was getting comfy in the huge love seat, the doctor came to get me. I sat down in his office and tried getting comfortable. It didn't work. He sat me in a tiny chair. I was losing confidence in this whole thing more by the second. Just then, he pulled out something that sparkled. I realized it was a long chain with a big silver ball on the end. It was then I got ice cold. This was a mistake. I was just about to tell him so when he started his spiel. I was a goner. Who knew I'd be so easy. I was so far gone, that if anyone were to scream fire, I probably wouldn't have cared. I can't remember what happened, but when the alarm sounded for the session to be over, it seemed only a second or two had passed. I left quite confused, but then went home and ate a spiral-sliced ham all by myself. Son of a bitch.

First, let me say, I'm not in love with most of my writings. I'm beginning to think I need to try to do it at a different time of day. Waiting until bed time just makes it hard and I've actually fallen asleep in the middle of writing. I say all this because I really don't like this one and it's not really finished. But, here it is, nonetheless.

The Write-Brain Workbook - Day 55 Finish the story. Start with:

Like a butterfly, she magically came out of her cocoon full of life, joy and vibrant new color. While in her cocoon, she always wondered if it could ever be better. The slow humdrum of daily life took its toll. Each day her dreams seemed further and further away, until they were so out of reach, she almost forgot they ever were. Then she remembered. She can't remember what sparked her memory. Only that it was sudden. All the dreams she ever had came flooding back. This time she grabbed hold of them all and refused to let them go. It seemed almost overnight that she changed. First, it was the lightness in her step. Then it was a change in her wardrobe. That also included the color. Color in clothes, color in cheeks, color in life. Then it was her smile. She couldn't remember the last time she did such a thing. Her face actually hurt.

The Write-Brain Workbook - Day 54 Photos are a great way to capture memories. But we don't always have a camera with us. Write quick "word snapshots" as substitutes for the following topics. Try to capture colors, textures, and expressions. Use your own life story... or make them up! A childhood birthday party Rob looks pleased with himself at his 2nd birthday. He sits in his highchair in a local Alabama park, coating his face in spaghetti sauce. The day might be gloomy, but it's not effecting his fun. A wedding When she thinks no one is looking is when she looks her most beautiful. The day couldn't have gone any better, and as she walks up to the altar with her new husband in hand, she looks like she could take on the world. Winning an award Shane looks surprised yet completely confident and deserving. His grin is boyish and yet still the usual devilish. If his slacks ere as red as his shirt, I may have thought him a little too devilish. A garden The intensely green elephant ears next to the boldly rich purple wandering jew is quite a site to behold. Yet, it's the simple child's hammock in the corner that stands out most of all.

When I started typing this one up, I realized I did it completely wrong. I must have been about ready to pass out cuz it seems clear as day now. Anyway, I will post it as it was stated, but just know that I goofed... big time. The Write-Brain Workbook - Day 53 Use this quote somewhere in your piece. Start with: I hate the texture of... I'm a weird bird. I'm completely aware of this, at most times. I have my quirks, or oddities, or uniqueness, or idiosyncracies... whatever you want to call them. For instance, I wouldn't call myself a picky eater at all, but there are just some things I can't get past. Numero uno, let's say it together now, I hate cilantro. Not, I dislike it or I prefer not to eat it. I abhor it. I can taste that disgusting weed if it were in the same kitchen as my food. If I could, I would outlaw the stuff. Or, better yet, burn every last plant of it off this planet. Of course, I live in the state of Cilantro. Hell, it's probably the state herb. Another thing is apples. I hate the texture of apples. Just thinking of it makes me want to gag. The only type of apple I can stand, in fact I enjoy them, is a very unripe green apple (of the non-Granny Smith variety). I also have a few standards... like lima beans and brussel sprouts. My mom used to give us brussel sprouts quite a bit. She actually thought there was no way anyone could not like them. As for lima beans, I have no problem with them when they are mixed with other things. But they just aren't meant to be alone. They need help or friends, whatever. There are far more things I love than hate, so I feel I'm okay with my food enemies. I'm allowed to have a few, right? Any foods you just can't tolerate?

The Write-Brain Workbook - Day 52 Finish the story. Start with: Down by the swamp sat an impatient frog. He hopped from one tree to the next near the swamp's edge. He knew something better had to come alone any moment now. He grew so tired of the dreary swamp life. Far too dark, dreary, and muggy for his taste. He would much rather be in a big field of fresh green grass or even sitting on a hot sandy beach in the tropics. He was meant for bigger and better things. He kept up his tree-to-tree pacing, oblivious to all around him. Out in the murky water, an alligator swam by leisurely. He loved his life. He just couldn't imagine life getting any better. The water was great for hiding. The banks were good for resting and there were so many friends to find here. Every day was a great game of hide 'n seek. Food and friends lurked everywhere. The alligator crept closer to land and noticed a little frog hopping around. Look, the alligator thought, there's some friendly food right now.

The Write-Brain Workbook - Day 51 Ah! The classic opener! Finish the story. Start with: Once upon a time there was a scared little girl. She thought no one loved her. And she certainly never thought anyone could. It got so bad sometimes, a leaf blowing in the wind would make her jump, and then she would cry when no one was there to console her. She continued on, every day being scared and being lonely, until one day, a blue-eyed, white-haired fairy princess came to see her. The fair princess scooped the little girl up and told her she was sending her some place where she wouldn't be lonely anymore. When they finally arrived, the fairy princess kissed the little girl on the head and then disappeared. A while later, when the little girl was beginning to lose hope, the fair princess returned. She could not give the little girl away after all. The girl looked up and the princess and began to cry quietly. The fairy princess took her head in her hand and said, "I just didn't think anyone could love you more than I can."

The Write-Brain Workbook - Day 5 Write until you fill in the entire shape. There are no lines, allowing you to be creative and free. Start with: The ship's sail towered above me. I kept looking skyward only to see a massive swath of fabric flapping in the wind. I decided to give in and lay on the deck. I stared straight up and caught rays of sun on my face from between the towering wind catchers. Instead of being disappointed by the lack of sky, I decided to take in the soothing noise of the sails struggling to find peace with the wind. It seemed like such an adversarial relationship, yet oddly symbiotic. What would the sails do without the wind except hang limply on their masts. The wind might only blow someone's hair & clothes, but the sails made it more useful. I kicked my sandals off and let them slide around the deck. I had thought this trip would only be about tanning and getting my hair wind blown and dirty. I guess there is more to this sailing thing than meets the eye. I think I'd rather see the fighting love the wind and the sail have. Whoosh, fwip, thwip, poof, umpf, I hear. If I listen closely, I think I can hear them whispering sweet nothings. Shhhhh... LISTEN.

The Write-Brain Workbook - Day 4 You are two years old. Write from this perspective. Be childlike! PLAY! Give yourself a name (with the initials C.A.T.): Callonius Aspra Twitter Nickname: Meow Eye color: orange Hair color: orange Favorite food: cucumbers Siblings' names/ages: Fwompa, 12 - Twurtle, 6 How they treat you: Fwompa thinks I'm the Devil's spawn, Twurtle thinks I'm the greatest new toy he's ever received Thoughts on toilet training: It's much easier to have someone clean it up for you. Start with: Here I am stuck in my crib, much like a convict. I see Fwompa sitting on the couch watching TV and painting her toes. She could come get me out of this thing, but I guess that's too much effort. One day I will be her master and she will regret her treatment of me. I could become exactly what she thinks of me. Then she'll truly think of me as the offspring of Satan. I won't get upset. I won't wail. I'll sit here patiently and devise great ways to torture her. First, I may have to wet myself, but it's a small sacrifice. Next, I'll make sure to drop a ferociously rotten bomb. She certainly won't be able to withstand both for too long. Even with the sickening smell of acetone. If I must, I can start a small constant whimper. I won't stop until she gets me. She'll find it far more annoying than a loud siren sort of scream. If I'm lucky. Twurtle will get so upset over all this, he will join in with his own pathetic cry. Then to top it all off, Mom will have to come running to check on her precious Meow. No matter the ending, I will prevail. Take that Satan's spawn's sister.

The Write-Brain Workbook - Day 3 Think of a person who really bugs or annoys you. Think of a place you'd like to send this person. Then -- mentally -- send them there! With that in mind, start with: The post card arrived from the moon. When I had my men ship her off so I'd never have to see her again, I never thought they would consider the colony up there. She'll certainly never be able to afford travel back here. You really can't get much better than that. Well, I guess I could hope her gravity boots fail or her atmosphere goes wonky. But short of that, the moon'll do. Hopefully this will be an example to all those like her to watch where they step. Knowing her big mouth and loud opinions, she'll certainly make sure everyone knows who sent her and why. Little does she know, I'm planning on that fact. Make all your moves efficient, that's what I say.