Please Don't Die!

I posted on Facebook earlier this week that our writing prompt for today was going to come from 642 Things to Write About (Buy it Here), and was going to involve telling a dying houseplant why it needs to live.

So, here goes! Please feel free to share your versions on the Facebook page or in the comments here on the blog.

Thanks for reading!

XOXO,

JP

Note: This post may contain affiliate links. I receive a small commission when you click through and purchase the items. This helps me fund my writing. Thanks! :)

(As always, all original work posted by me is copyright Joanna Peterson 2015. Thanks!)


I stared at the wilted leaves, wondering why, after I'd cared so diligently for it, it had decided to die anyway. I watered it when the soil dried out. I kept it near the window so it would get enough sunlight. Heck, I even bought the expensive plant food at the nursery and followed the directions to the letter.

And yet, there it sat in front of me, dying. I knelt on the floor next to the little side table I'd set the basket on and clasped my hands before it. 

"Please, little plant," I begged. "Please, oh please, don't die on me. Not now. He already thinks I have the Black Thumb of Death. If you die now, despite my best efforts to care for you, he'll blame me forever."

I stared intently at the little plant my boyfriend had given me just a few weeks before, as if I was waiting for it to respond. Like it would explain to me why, after all my hard work and loving care, it was deciding to leave this world. Naturally, it didn't say anything. It was just a plant, after all. 

"Come on!" I shouted, slamming my fist down on the table. "Really? You're really going to die on me?"

Now I was starting to feel silly. I was shouting at a plant. A houseplant. A freaking peace lily!

I pushed myself off the floor and started toward the kitchen where I kept the plant food and the watering can. I wasn't going to let it just drop dead on my watch. I would nurture the crap out of that little plant until it either gave in and perked up and continued to live, or decided to go all in and die on me.

"Fine!" I shouted at it as I filled the watering can in the kitchen sink. "See if I care if you die or not! I won't give up on you though, little plant. And if you do crap out on me, he'll understand. He's seen the care I've given you. He won't blame me. Your little plan to screw with our relationship won't work."

I shoved the watering spout down toward the roots of the little, dying peace lily and poured water on its dry roots. I'd show it. I'd show it I wasn't giving up. I'd die before I let that stupid little plant die.

Okay, maybe not, I thought to myself as I returned to the kitchen and placed the watering can back beneath the sink. I was just being dramatic. But that plant meant so much to me. It was the first real thing he'd given me. And if it died, well, I was afraid it was a sign of how our relationship would end. I glanced back over my shoulder, sizing up the wilted leaves. 

I blinked. Were they that wilted before? Or did they seem a little perkier now that they'd been watered. I sat on the couch, staring directly at the plant. I was going to sit there and wait until I knew for sure. I'd sit there all night if I had to. Luckily, I didn't. Three hours later, the leaves definitely looked perkier than before. I smiled as I brushed past the peace lily to draw the curtains closed.

"That's a good plant," I said, patting its leaves softly as I walked past toward my bedroom. "That's a good plant indeed."

I'm totally going to use this one in something!

Today's writing prompt was to describe a notification scene at a family's home who has just been told their loved one was killed in combat, is a prisoner of war, or missing in action. (Taken from 642 Things to Write About. Can you tell I'm kind of loving this book? Want a copy? Buy it here!)

I've been working on something for the past year or so, and there's a similar scene to this writing prompt that I've just not been able to get right. Well, I think I've got it (partially) figured out. I hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think in the comments!

XOXO,

JP

Note: This post may contain affiliate links. I receive a small commission when you click through and purchase the items. This helps me fund my writing. Thanks! :)

(As always, all original work is copyright Joanna Peterson 2015. Thanks!)



This was my least favorite part of the job. The suburban pulled to a stop in front of the next home. I slid off the leather seat, taking slow, deliberate steps toward the front door. It was open, the family waiting for someone other than me. I watched as their faces turned from excitement to dread as I walked up the front path.

I offered my deepest condolences as I read the pre-printed letter in my hand. The mother's eyes rolled back in her head as she shrieked and fell to the ground. Her daughter, tears streaming down her face, rushed forward to help her. The father stared blankly at me as he took the letter I offered him. He didn't say a word to anyone as he turned, stepped over his wife's limp body on the floor, and stormed away. The daughter glanced up at me, screaming obscenities and begging me to let them grieve in peace.

I bowed my head and retreated to the suburban, disappointed that, of all the notifications I'd done that afternoon, this was the best - if "best" was even the word you would use to describe such a grim and horrible task. I shut the door, avoiding the urge to glance back at the grieving family I left behind as the suburban sped off toward my next notification assignment.

It's Dark in Here

Today's writing prompt was to put yourself in the dark and write what happens. (Taken from 642 Things to Write About)

I had a lot of fun with this one. Let's just say I have some personal experience where this topic is concerned. haha

Let me know what you think in the comments!

XOXO,

JP

(As always, all original work is copyright Joanna Peterson 2015. Thanks!)



I open my eyes, but still can't see anything. I swing my legs off the bed and stand, bumping into the bookshelf next to the bed. Water splashes on my bare foot, and I realize I've just managed to spill my glass of water all over the floor. I shuffle toward the door, keeping one hand on the mattress to guide me. I trip and stumble over a shoe, bumping my hip into the metal corner of the laundry hamper. I reach out toward the wall, feeling for the switch with my fingers. I press the button, and blink in the brilliant light from the LED on the ceiling.

Dear Girlfriend

Today's writing prompt is: You are 21. Write a letter to your girlfriend. (Taken from 642 Things to Write About)

I decided to play off of the letter I did last night from the 13 year old girl's point of view. Let me know what you think in the comments!

XOXO,

JP

(As always, original work is copyright Joanna Peterson 2015. Thanks!)



Dear Girlfriend,

Do you realize I've kept every single thing you've ever written to me? I just found a note you wrote when we were 13. Don't get me wrong, I love you more today than I ever did back then, but you were pretty sappy. (Also, kind of obsessed with Mrs. Hamilton's ears - which I had completely forgotten about.)

I just wanted you to know how much I love and appreciate everything you've done for me over the years. You are my lifeline to the shore as I battle the waves of the unknown.

Thank you for keeping me grounded and tied to home. I don't know what I would do without you.

I love you,

Your Boyfriend

Dear Boyfriend

Last night I worked on some writing exercises. I was in the mood to write, but I had no idea what I wanted to write about, or work on. (I know, you're all going to say "Work on the sequels!" but I just wasn't feeling it.) So on a whim I pulled out my copy of 642 Things to Write About and thumbed through it.

I stumbled across a few exercises that I thought sounded like fun. The one I'm posting below prompted me to write a letter as a 13 year old to her boyfriend. Fairly easy, having written several (but never sent them - they were always kept secret in my locked journal. Aah, the days of early teenhood) as a 13 year old myself, I was able to channel past me and I think I nailed it.

If you'd like to check the book out, and get 642 writing prompts all to yourself, you can buy it here.

Let me know what you think in the comments! (And, as always, all original work posted on this blog is copyright Joanna Peterson 2015). Thanks!


Note: This post may contain affiliate links. I receive a small commission when you click through and purchase the items. This helps me fund my writing. Thanks! :)


XOXO,

JP

Dear Boyfriend,

Today at school was awesome. You totally looked so-o hot in those Lucky Jeans you were wearing.

I'm totally bummed that the only class we have together is English.

Also, do you think Mrs. Hamilton even has ears? Janie said that Rob said that Susan heard she was in a really bad car accident like 10 years ago and she lost her one ear.

Ew! Totally gross! If that's true, it totally explains why she wears her hair like that.

Anyways, I was thinking we could work on our English homework together? I started my poem assignment already.  What do you think?

Roses are dumb,
Violet's a fool
'Cuz everyone knows
In the whole school:

You belong to me,
I belong to you,
And that will never change
'Cuz our love is too new. 

I love you babe!

Love,

Your girlfriend

*muah! *