Introducing: Friday freewrite


Loyal friends and followers, and anyone else stumbling on to this blog, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. You ready? Here it is: my life is very busy. It’s not an excuse, I don’t want to be consumed by it, and I’m not glorifying it. What I doing, however, is giving myself a little room for grace, and a little room to grow.

Thus, the “Friday freewrite” was born. Every Friday, I’ll post a blog aptly named “Friday freewrite”, and it will be the result of a fifteen minute (no more no less) outpouring of all the chaos and art in my head into a post. No edits, no revisions, no thinking, just writing. It may be awesome, it may be awful, it may make no sense. But every Friday, it will come. It’s my hope that this practice will help challenge me, will help lighten the burdens of perfection that I too often carry, and will help empower me to say what’s on my heart, nothing held back.

It’s also my hope that you’ll join in. If you’re a blogger and you know what it’s like to carry a mix of tangled blog ideas in your brain at all times, let’s do this together. Friday freewrite will be more fun with friends!

Steal my images, plop them on your post, give me a shout, and let me know you’re in. Let’s freewrite on Fridays. Let’s be genuine, let’s pour our words out with no hesitation and just see what comes.

See you on Friday!

Introducing Friday Just Write Day

This is a exercise a dear friend once shared with me. Take a few minutes (the length of one song) to write a word for every letter of the alphabet– no hesitation, no debate. Just a stream of consciousness of words. Then, play the song again, and write those words in order into a short story.

I’m going to post one every Friday. Friday Just Write Day. Here’s #1.





























She was alone in her world, this beloved, creative spirit destined for an eternal freedom she had never been able to comprehend. Her soul was gracious in its humble, quiet way of letting others shine brighter than herself. She always dreamed of her homeland, a place independent of the jealousy in those around her. Her dreams were like a kite to her happiness—a lighthearted escape to a majestic other world where only she existed. There was no shortage of novel ideas in her thoughts—the places she went were her original ones, not schemed up by any other. She knew there was more purpose to life than the way they lived around her. She was constantly quizzical, taking nothing for simply what it was on the surface. She roamed the lands around her, always studious, always seeking. She would never fall in the trap under the spell of their voracious habits. She, unlike they, knew what wanderlust did to the soul. She knew it was an exit from the small world she was in. It filled her with a constant yearning—a zeal they never understood.