Welcome readers, writers, authors,
and bloggers!
We're glad you're here! It's the first Wednesday of the month, and we celebrate IWSG Day in the form of a blog hop
featuring members and guests of the Insecure
Writer's Support Group. Founded by author Alex Cavanaugh (Thank you, Captain!) and fostered by like-minded associates,
IWSG is a comfortable place to share views and literary news as we record our journeys.
Check out our monthly newsletter here.
The awesome co-hosts for this month’s posting
of the IWSG are: Joylene
Nowell Butler, Louise
Barbour, and Tyrean
Martinson!
Today’s
entirely optional question: If for one day you could be any one or thing in the world,
what would it be? Describe, tell why, and talk about any themes or values are
inspired by this.
I’d be the
keeper of the hand-painted chalet where a silly wooden bird carefully marked
our every moment, popping out of the door to remind us on the hour of every
hour that passes every day that the treasure of each second should count and
not be tossed away. Except for that fateful day, the family cat had her way and made off with one of the gently swaying pendulum weights, stilling the steady tick-toc and forever silencing the ever-cheerful bird. However, in none of the handful of stories I’ve created about this event over the years, does the cat ever abscond with the weight like it did. No sir-ee. In one story the cat falls into the aquarium, in another
story the dog tries to get involved, alerting Grandma to the devious endeavor going
on, whereby cat and dog both are unceremoniously escorted out the back door.
That ending still makes me smile;-) While no one ever admitted it, I think we
all missed that silly wooden bird.
Then again,
perhaps I’d be the sturdy tree by the river that heard all about our secrets,
shared our tears, and triumphs, the one that allowed us to climb, and preserved
our carvings as sacred etchings of our youth. I’d be the tree that shaded us from the harsher hues of life even when our hearts rained, the constant friend that whispered, “It’ll be alright,” through skinned-up knees and grass stains. And it
was. It just always was alright.
Okay. Your
turn! Can’t wait to see what everyone has to say in response – or not, to the
optional question.
Happy Writing!
