Writing in times of change
I lead a bimonthly writing group with the Brooklyn Women’s Writing Group in Bushwick. It’s a wonderful time to work with adults on their writing – people who might have jobs besides writing, or they’re copywriters, or they’re just trying to get their writing projects completed.
In these sessions I bring prompts, we write for an hour, and then we share – not everyone shares – but many share the raw bones of what they worked on during the hour. The pressure is off. They haven’t gotten into a perfectionist or editorial mindset yet. These are vulnerable passages that people are open enough to share. Every time is beautiful. Every one exists as a gem on its own, new in the world.
Sometimes the writing is varied. Sometimes it comes out of the individual mind and experience of the writer. But sometimes the writing that is shared illustrates a single spirit that hovers over the group. All of the writing seems to be grappling with similar topics and concerns. In the last session it became quite dark. This may have been my fault. I brought in prompts about endings and burning. The results seemed to ask the question: does everything have to be destroyed for there to be a new beginning?
These were the prompts:
- Write yourself in 5, 10, 20 years.
- Write a scene where one character is not seen or heard
- Write three synonyms… now right the same scene for each synonym… How does the scene change depending on the synonym you are portraying (for example: cozy, soft, warm)
- Ragnarok, the Norse apocalypse myth is traditionally told in the future tense. Write an apocalypse in the future tense (keep in mind, that apocalypse means “uncover” in Greek).
- write a piece inspired by this poem. Use words, phrases, or images Nye presents to complete your piece
At the end of the hour people read about terrible loss, bizarre scenarios of loneliness, death, and, of course, fire – taking things to their final point.
When you write this year, when you work with your students on writing – encourage them to take it as far as they can, as deep as they can, into realms they had not thought possible. And beyond. Where all things end. Even to the tiniest moment of darkness – there will be a beginning. Write growth, write doors, write rivers, write friends, write gods. In the same way Ragnarok is always told in the future tense, as long as there are stories to tell there will be new beginnings.
These pieces may not be for other eyes. The delicacy of the beyond is not for everyone. Maybe even destroy the document at the end. That might be the best thing to do. But don’t be afraid of it. In times of change, write beyond the end.
Bending Tree Education 