Category: The Write Stuff

A place where creative literary minds can gather.

The List

After watching the movie “The Bucket List”, I felt inspired to create my own list of all the things I wanted to do before I was no longer around to do them.  My list had just over one hundred things that I was sure I’d enjoy drawing a line through once i completed the task.  This was fun for a while.  That is, until I kept looking at the word “bucket” at the top of the list.  It just seemed so final to me.  I wanted to think I had a lot more years to live and what happened if I completed everything on the list by fifty?  Would I be ready to toss in the towel of life or would I make a new list?  So, I tossed the bucket list in the bucket.

When I turned 39, I thought about “the list” again as the big fortieth birthday milestone was quickly approaching.  My feelings about the bucket list hadn’t changed so I decided to rename my list.

39 things to do before I turn 40

1.  try a new short haircut

2.  complete a half marathon

3.  ride a horse

4.  visit a new city

5.  complete 1000 mile challenge

6.  try a new fruit

7.  try a new vegetable

8.  hire a personal chef for one night

9.  go hiking

10. start a new “hustle”

11. color my hair

12. test drive a sportscar

13. plan a party

14. donate/give away 40 items

15. think about where to live next

16. try yoga

17. get a hot stone massage

18. go on a boat ride

19. plan a sisters getaway

20. register for Disney Princess

21. invite a child to visit and give a mom a break

22. invite a child to visit and give a mom a break

23. lose 10 more pounds

24. take a swimming lesson

25. sleep under the stars

26. handwrite a letter

27. spend 39 consecutive hours away from a computer

28. volunteer

29. help a woman market/sell a product

30. go to a vineyard

31. spend a night in the mountains

32. find an old friend

33. pay it forward

34. do something I haven’t done because I thought it cost too much

35. get a full physical

36. disappear for 39 hours

37. meet 2 new little people

38. have a dinner party at the cave

39. each day….give praise, thanks and live with gratitude


I have less than 100 days to complete the list and I’ve not gotten very far.  I’ll keep you posted.

Judge a book by its cover

Today’s Assignment.  Looking at the cover of a book, write a synopsis telling about the book.  Everyone had the same cover.  But no one  told the same story….or the same story that the actual author told.

Charlotte Merryweather was a free spirited young girl who threw caution to the wind.  She took life one breath at a time and cherished the freedom she had in her yellow beetle named Sunshine.  Charlotte always kept a change of clothes in the trunk, snacks in the dashboard and several pair of shoe in the back seat.  Charlotte walked to her own beat until she met someone who knocked her socks off.  No, literally knocked her socks off when he ran into the back of good ole Sunshine.  Charlotte loses her memory and then leaves her current boyfriend for the man who hits her.  Fast forward ten years.  Charlotte is still with the man who hits her car but she has just been rear ended by another man and her memory comes back.  Ironically, the person who hits her is the man she was dating when she was hit the first time.  What life will Charlotte choose?

~Participant #1

This novel is about a lady who is a professional during the day and a street walker in the night.  Miss Merryweather is a single mother of four.  She is struggling to support her home.  Charlotte has two different lives as a mother and a street walker until she meets a good looking man named Mr. Darcy.  Her new beau has no idea of her “other” life until Charlotte is raped and beaten by a pimp. Mr. Darcy professes his love for Charlotte with a marriage proposal.  But the proposal comes with conditions…..

~Participant #2

Charlotte Merryweather was born to a teenage mother.  She was given up for adoption and lived a very deprived childhood.  Destined not to become a victim of her situation, Charlotte decided that as soon as she was able to get out she would live her life and not let life live her.  By day, Miss Merryweather worked for a high fashion magazine.  She interviewed designers from all over the world.  But her passion was opening doors for the unknowns.  She looked high and low for young designers who were from small towns with passion but few opportunities.  Most of these unknowns that were featured in her magazine became well sought after.  She was always at the top of her game.  A diva, a fashionista.  By night, Charlotte was a laid back introvert.  She worked part time at a local bakery, even though her earnings at the magazine were more than enough to take care of her expenses.  People that visited this bakery weren’t much into high fashion so they didn’t know who she really was.  What happens when one of her feature designers enters the bakery and realizes that Charlotte is Miss Merryweather?

~Partcipant #3


Imagine if you could go back ten years and meet yourself, would you recognize her?  What advice would you give her?  For Charlotte Merryweather, there’s no need to imagine.  She’s about to find out for real…with some surprising consequences.  The Two Lives of Charlotte Merryweather is a deliciously charming romantic comedy that looks at life, love, and what might happen if you could turn back time at the wheel of a Volkswagon Beetle.

~Alexandra Potter – The Author

A picture is worth a thousand words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  But because this session couldn’t last all night, I shortened it…just a bit. 

Assignment:  Look at the picture given to you and write about it using any style of writing.  You will be given a piece of paper that has space for 100 words.  Time to complete assignment: fifteen minutes.


I see a tropical island.  The ocean is a bright, crisp blue.  The sand as white as snow.  In the background, there is another mountainous island and a rocky island with lots of trees.  The palm trees are swaying back and forth with the cool breeze.  The sky is just as blue as the water.  It truly looks like paradise.  I wonder what it would feel like to lay in the white, soft sand and feel the cool breeze with the sun beaming on my face.  Maybe one day this year, I will know what it would feel like.



As I gaze across the ocean, I feel a sense of peace.  The sounds of the waves crashing ashore remind me that even in the storms of life, it is necessary to be patient and wait for the tides to calm.  And as the sun sets, I am amazed at the beauty that I feel from this tower was created just for me.  I wonder, what makes me so lucky to be the only person able to see this vision of beauty as I sit alone with only my thoughts and the soothing sounds of the water to entertain me.


My First Love

The WRITE Stuff (The poetry edition); held Tuesday, February 7th at The Vino Shoppe; High Point.

Assignment: Write about your first love using any style of writing. It can’t be a person and you can only use the area on a small heart shaped doilie.  Participants made the space work.  Some wrote very small.  Others chose to use front and back.

Keep reading to find out about several first loves:

My first love allowed me to be anyone I wanted to be or change my location.  With just one word, I could be whatever I wanted to be and have whatever I wanted to have.  I could brush elbows with anyone I wanted.  I was in control of my destiny with just one thought.  My first love was….my imagination.

I found her by accident.  She drew me providing fulfillment to a void and I welcomed her.  She flowed to the rhythm of my whims and allowed me to manipulate her into any form as I saw fit without question.  I will always love her and have never been the same.  Ode to my first love…Madame Poetry.

My first love comforts me when bored, stressed, hungry, after a drunken night, after sex, midnight craving, for fellowship or for fun.  My first love….food.

I awoke on Christmas morning to find my first love under the Christmas tree. When I pulled her chord, she said little phrases.  She had curly hair and wore a red velvet dress.  I had dreamed all year of finding her there and I was not disappointed.  I held her close to me as any six year old would.  My first love…Chatty Kathy.

As long as I can remember, it’s always been a part of my life.  When I was a kid and there was no music, I made my own.  Singing nursery rhymes and making my own beats using my feet.  I was so in love with music that by the time I was 15, I slept with my radio on through the night. My favorite genre then was R&B.  It still is.  My first love…music.


The best gift I’ve ever given

The best gift I’ve ever given is me, I can’t lie

Something about seeing the tears begin to water in a grown man’s eyes

It was Christmas and my family knew, gifts that year ween’t coming through

That year I was giving – one gift only.  Couldn’t be purchased in the store.  The gift was me

Airport bound I wore a smile

Eight hours of travel and accrual of frequent flier miles

As I arrived at the gate in ATL

I remember thinking, “What the hell?”

Are all these people doing here, when time for my departure was drawing near

On the overhead I heard begs and pleas

For passengers to give up seats

The previous flight out had been delayed

And hundreds would be forced to sit in an airport for hours on Christmas day

Five hundred travel dollars sounded really great

But I had to pass. 

I was on my way to a surprise daddy date

My flight was on time, luggage in tow

Walked out the door, daddy didn’t know

That when I said his gift would be late that his gift would be me.


That was the last Christmas I spent with my dad.  2011 will be the third year I won’t get to call and squeal, “Merry Christmas, Old Man.”  I will cherish that Christmas forever.  RIP LA Wilson


The WRITE Stuff

Assignment:  Write a haiku about rain.

Somber sound in the night, making puddles in the depths, wash away the pain.       -T. Fewell

A drizzle or drop, sweet water from above is, thinning out the clouds.                         -Veronica Star

Crystal drops cascade, from clouds dusting and dream, crackling drops of rain.      -L. Jackson

Calm, cool, collected, the rain outside my window, reminds me of peace!                    – April Joy

Rain falls on my face, Take away misery’s pain, True freedom is here.                      – Vada

Rain droplets falling, into my eyes made to soothe, and to tantalize.                         -Amber Chloe

Raindrops after dark, illuminate street lamps, mock diamonds on the street.      -Veronica Star

Guess Who?

ASSIGNMENT:  Each participant will choose from a bowl the name of a person that attendees should be familiar with.  Participants will spend 15 minutes writing a journal entry as if they were that person.

Check out who this WRITEr selected.


Today is October 25th 2011. I slept in today because I was  tired.  I asked for no phone calls because.  When I did finally get up it was back to business as usual. i have so much stuff on my plate at times i feel like i need a personal asst but who knows if that would work out i would just end up doing it myself.i know i need to work on getting pics for my web page because my boot camp leader told me i need more to go on my website he told me i need to get on the ball.i was like yeah yeah i know i i held a class last week and it was nasty outside all wet and stuff but my friend came up anyway and hung out with me and even sold cupcakes at the class and gave some away.i just love helping people that help themselves.i have asked everyone to please start posting what you wrote in class so people can see what goes in the classes i hold.i have to go to work tomorrow you know land of the smiles is what i call it i love making people smile i bring the joy out of them.after a long day at work i love coming to the cave to relax and have me a nice glass of wine and add to my cork screw collection only if you know me would you understand that one lol.i have a stack of books that i need to read its on my to do list i am trying to support so many authors that i forget sometimes about all the books i have already but hey i can do this just watch my words lol.i want to do another book signing event and get more authors out there to introduce themselves and their work because ‘ who i am helping people who help themselves and i feel people need feed back.its coming to the end of breast awareness this month i hope next year i can do more in the community to help people to raise more money for this event.i will do whatever it takes to make it a big success next year.i cant wait for a couple more days so i can get some much needed rest and my slurpee yay me a get away i well deserve to let my brain rest but everyone knows me i never rest i even think in my sleep only me huh no everyone does it not just me.
Thanks for sharing your vision of a day in the life of Author April Joy Bowden.  Strangely, quite accurate.

The department store

Assignment:  Imagine that a computer glitch locks the doors to a small department store.  You are trapped inside with 100 people.  The store manager receives a phone call just before everyone’s phone stops working to find that everyone will be stuck for at least 48 hours.  September 13, 2011

I work in the department store every day.  Clearly I didn’t want to stay here any longer.  Had I not seen those cute shoes that I thought I coudn’t live without, I’d be home by now. 

It’s 7:30 on Friday.  I was supposed to go to open mic tonight at nine.  Guess that’s not gonna happen.

(The above is just the start of what I wrote)

The $5 bill

Assignment: Trace the journey of a five dollar bill through the lives of five different owners.  What was exchanged during the transition?  August 30, 2011

When I was a baby bill, I remember being in a close knit family.  I was jam packed with lots of people who looked like me.  We were bound together and shipped to a place I overheard was called Bank of Trust.  When I was set free, I was separated from most of my family.  There I met new bills.  Some $1s, $5s, $10s, $20s and a guy called Benjamin.

My next home was with a lady name Jill.  Upon our meeting, she flipped me over again and again as she said in awe repeatedly, “That’s what new money looks like”.  Placed in a tight, dark compartment, Jill later put me in a new residence.  When I saw light again, I heard people yell, “Happy Birthday, Billy”.  Billy put me in his pocket as he was prompted to do by Aunt Jill.  He balled my up and that new feeling I had was over.  I did get a bath in that pocket, as Billy forgot to take my out.  I went from the washer to the dryer.  Billy’s mom saved me.  The next day I went to his school when I was reunited with some of my family in the register of the cafeteria.  I didn’t stay there long.  A teacher guy paid with a big bill and I was given to him as change.  The teacher; Mr. Frederick took me to the store after work and gave me to another girl in exchange for a scratch off.  I didn’t end up where I thought I would (in another register).  She put me in her pocket.  It was tight, dark and crowded in that pocket.


Literary Sanctuary

As a child, it was the bottom bunk with blankets draped down the sides to keep the bad stuff out.  Armed with a flashlight to illuminate my writer’s den, full of pieces of paper torn from notebooks (I kinda liked the jagged edges).  I stayed awake long past my bed time freeing my mind and jotting down my thoughts.

As a teen, it was the basement of my parent’s home.  My creativity took a different turn.  My new tools were paint, tee shirts, jeans, sneakers and pieces of paper with poems and sketches that instructed me how I would create my next masterpiece.  Most of my clothes became designer originals, painted by Shorty LA.

As a young adult, my sanctuary was found on Amtrak.  I spend hours back and forth on the I-95 corridor.  By the time the conductor announced, “If (this city) is your stop, you have reached your destination”, I had pages of finished work in my journal.

As a slightly more mature woman,  some days it’s outside.  Perhaps on my patio with a glass of wine.  Some days it’s a park bench.  And when the mood is right, it’s pool side.  When I’m stuck in traffic and need a quick escape, it’s the parking lot of the nearest gas station or grocery store. hen near is too far, it’s hazard lights flashing on the side of the highway.

To read, to write, to enlighten, to love, to feel passion-

Many places have been, will be….my literary sanctuary!