Preface–I began Prompt Me! to try to instill inspiration and discipline into my writing day. To help me get “inspired” I have downloaded Writer’s Digest’s Free The Writing Prompt Boot Camp by Brian A. Klems & Zachary Petit. I am ending the two weeks of free prompts–and now ask that YOU–my readers and followers–to send me your prompts. I will write to your prompt. Who knows what will sprout! Send your prompts to me via my Contact Me page or email me at PromptMeemail@example.com
Enjoy my first Prompt Me! writing.
Writing Prompt: Breaking Up With Writer’s Block. It’s time for you and Writer’s Block to part ways. Write a letter breaking up with Writer’s Block, starting out with, “Dear Writer’s Block, it’s not you, it’s me …”
Dear Writer’s Block, it’s not you, it’s me. I’ve spent the last year in dance class, waltzing, tangoing, two-stepping with the best of them. I can’t do it all. You have got to go. It’s nothing personal, please don’t think that it is. As I said, it’s me. I have to pick my passion, and today it is to write. Tomorrow it might be tennis, the next day reading. But it is not you. It was never you. It was always me.
You might think it strange that I would be writing this Dear John letter to you, rather than dancing it to your doorstep, or giving it to you in an overhead slam. I don’t know, it just seemed like the thing to do. Now you can read it at your leisure, highlight, red-pen it to death. Pick your poison, but don’t poison me.
(They say that breaking up is hard to do, now I know, I know that it is true. Don’t say that this is the end, instead of breaking up I wish that we were making up again. Lyrics by Neil Sedaka)
I remember when I first met you. You didn’t seem like a bad guy. Pretty normal, all things considered. You gave me lots of free time. But as we got to know each other, as I got to know you, you tainted everything I did and/or said. You were the elephant in the room. I couldn’t go anywhere without your blasted shroud hanging around me. I never laughed anymore, I never took joy in the simple things. You stole that all from me. Writing brought me back to life. And today I choose life.