A Leaf on Barbs

Write one leaf about stepping on a barb.

When I stepped on a barb, I thought about you.
You, you, you! And all the beautiful things that you do.

A Leaf on Company

Write one leaf about sleeping on the floor.

The thing I love about cats is how casually they appear on your doorstep: no shame, no apologies, no excuses. You're cool, I'm cool and I'm crashing on your couch.

People? Not so much. We pander around for acceptance, trying to earn our stays. We are full of "No thank you"s and "I really shouldn't"s. When bad news strikes and you just want a voice on the phone, you pause before you hit up your best friend on speed dial and you ask yourself, "Will I bother her?--No, worse. Will I annoy her?"

But these are the things that make us close. Me sleeping on your floor, us talking about the Yankees and the shape of our legs. The restaurant I practically had to force you into, the dish you nearly threw up, the look your mom gave us when we got home and still wanted cookies.

So come, come, come. Come sleep on my floor.

But bring wine.

A Leaf on Usage

itsmorethanyouaskedfor asked: This blog made a sleepover party really fun and hilarious as well as emotional. We went through the prompts and each wrote a different one and shared it. Some of them were poems, Some were stories, Some were drawings where we had to share a story as we drew.(Because not all of us were writers). We took it and turned it into one of our favorite past times.

Also, thank you for saving me from writer's block. This blog inspires me.

Great news! This is like a complete answer to the previous question: “Can Write One Leaf be used for poetry?” And if Write One Leaf can be used as the basis of a sleepover party creativity game, then it can be used for almost anything.

Write one leaf inventing a new use for Write One Leaf.

Use Write One Leaf like the 48 Hour Film Project. But instead of having all the elements at once, write a few lines of dialogue each day based on the prompt. Continue to do this until you have completed your script. Be open to unexpected plot twists. Then film the project.

A Leaf on Appreciation

four-and-twenty-blackbirds asked: Can Write One Leaf be used for poetry?

I should hope so. The limits to how Write One Leaf can be used are based solely on the limits of the human imagination.

Write one leaf about the limits of the human imagination.

Before Marina taught me to play the guitar, I never noticed strumming or the timing of lyrics or even the difference between a clean note and a not-so-clean one. I loved music, but I enjoyed it passively the way a person enjoys a television show. Looking back I feel so handicapped, roadblocked by the unwitting lack of knowledge. I wish I had learned to appreciate sounds more or that I had train myself to listen more closely to the nuances. All those different strumming techniques, all the changing beats, all the ways to grip the strings. I wonder what else I've missed and how I've limited myself simply by not trying to learn something. How much brilliance slipped right under my nose, how many moments of inspiration and instruction I must have missed. I suddenly realize that I know so much less than I could possibly imagine. But in a good, hungry way rather than a lost and lonely way. There is so much I want to know.

A Leaf on Fragility

mallowtreat asked: Hay WOL I was wondering you have any tips for making poetry flow better?

Assuming this is a desirable thing to do (and there are those who would likely argue that it isn’t), the best way I’ve found for making any piece of writing “flow” better is to read it aloud. If it isn’t working, you’ll hear it. The voice inside your head is absolutely not the same as the voice that comes out of your mouth, and almost any piece of writing can benefit from editing while reading aloud.

Blessings and luck.

Write one leaf about reading aloud.

I'm on my bed, curled up with Jonathan Safran Foer. I pull a sheet across my torso and on a whim, I dictate a page. Amused, you read me a manuscript. I dictate another. You act out a comic illustration. I move to page three. I would laugh but the moment is too fragile and I want desperately for you to keep reading.

A Leaf on His Humanity

Write one leaf in the form of a letter to the President.

Dear Mr. President,

I know that you hold the most prestigious position in the nation--the world even--but sometimes I really want to give you a hug and tell you, "I am so sorry you have to do what you do." The truth (and this is precisely the truth people tend to neglect) is that if you weren't such a straight arrow, if you didn't try so hard to do right by the nation, your life would be a heck of a lot easier.

The Republicans hate you. You expected that, but it doesn't quell the frustration. Still, you expected that. What you didn't expect was for your own party, your own supporters to turn their backs so quickly. You spoke of hope and change. But you find that very little of the nation has the patience to dream. People judge you by the state of the nation, regardless of how broken it was to begin with. Yesterday's gains get lost quickly in today's sorrows. They have don't accept that it might get worse before it gets better. They don't want policies that need to be fixed; they want laws to be immediately beneficial. "Steps in the right direction" just don't cut it. They want silver bullets or nothing at all.

It's kind of a shitty thankless job, isn't it? And maybe in those rare quiet moments, you'll find yourself sitting in the Oval Office wonder why the hell you worked so hard to get it. But then you go home to your daughters and your wife and you think about how badly you love them. How much you want to give them everything they deserve and more. You almost go crazy with the wanting. And that gives you the courage and the strength to face the new day.

You try your goddamned best. You try for the people you love, the nation you love, and the idea of love itself. But there are just some obstacles that you can't break down. The political climate, the debt (Jesus Christ, the debt!), the... well, let's stop there.

Mr. President, I just want to tell you that it's okay. It's okay that these bad things happened. It's okay that you can't fix them right now. It's okay. I understand. Sometimes your best just isn't good enough. Sometimes you can only hope that things turn out alright. You're only human. That's okay. That's life. That's how I see it, at least.

I'm sure there are others like me who forgive and accept you. A silent minority, perhaps... but I just want you to know that we're here. That not everyone in the nation sees you as a demon or a tool or something to be cursed at. You've done right by me just by trying as hard as you do and fighting for as long as you have. And so...

Thank you,

A Month

A Leaf on Lies

Write one leaf about the Portal cake.

Truth: the cake is a lie.

You're on the phone with your mom.

You're moving your hand to my knee.

You're holding a paintbrush.

You're riding shotgun.

You're buying my drink.

You're making lunch.

You're singing a song.

You're laughing at my joke.

You're saying sorry.

You're popping the trunk.

You're opening the door.

You're peeking out the window.

You're snapping your gum.

You're looking from the corner of your eye.

You're walking the grocery aisle.

You're leading me down the corridor.

You're talking about school.

The cake is a lie. The cake is a lie. The cake is a lie.

A Leaf on Stars

Write one leaf about “the best day ever.”

We're at the park in my neighborhood. The one with just two big kid swings. The night is friendly cold: dark but bathed in streetlamp yellow. I'm playing music on my phone and the sounds are tinny and cheap through the speakers. Your voice, soft and low, fades in and out as you mouth lyrics. I pretend I'm not listening. I'm staring at Orion.

Do you think we might be constellations one day?

A Leaf on Power

ifeverilovedthee asked: It's your blog that showed me what I want to do with my life. I'm now planning on becoming an English major and later on teaching a High School (and eventually college after I've gotten better degrees) Creative Writing classes. I will more than likely continue using this blog until then and I'll definitely recommend it to my future students as I do to my classmates right now. THANK YOU for inspiring me.

I.

Don’t.

Even.

Know.

What.

To.

Say.

Except congratulations on making that decision to do that thing with your life. Making any sort of decision is half the battle.

Write one leaf in which you make a decision about which you were previously undecided, even if it’s just what to have for lunch.

(Oh, and THANK YOU for following and for writing and for saying what you have to say. It’s ever so important and don’t ever think that it isn’t. Be heard!)

- - - -

There is so much fatalism in the world: people who think that life moves forward, marching at its torrential pace, regardless of anything they do. I don't believe that. Or rather, I choose not to believe that.

I choose to believe that the world is a malleable place, that we inspire--and inflict damage--on others, and that every person has a unique power to shape the space they occupy. I choose to believe that the best thing a person can do with his/her life is to grow to acknowledge and own that power. To live vibrantly in that tremendous responsibility. To glow with the possibility instead of hiding in fear of it.

This is the belief that has shaped my choices from the get go. This is the belief I try to live up to when meeting new people. This is the belief that put me on my current career path. It is with this belief that I now apply for Peace Corps service.

I spent the day reading up on Kate Puzey, the Peace Corps volunteer who was murdered by another Peace Corps employee while overseas. I watched the interviews of raped Peace Corps volunteers. I know no organization is perfect. I know the Peace Corps doesn't have the greatest track record for responding to safety concerns. I know this is a risk. I know I am putting myself in danger and putting the hearts of all my loved ones on the line.

It's a hard decision to go. I will be missing critical years off the lives of everyone I care about. I will miss my sister's college graduation. I won't be able to attend friends' weddings or keep up on all the inside jokes. I might even lose some people along the way.

But even knowing all that, I want to go. I want to go because I need to know my idealism isn't unfounded. I want to go because I think in order to properly love the people closest to me, I need to know how to love perfect strangers. I want to go because I want to come back someone my friends and family can be proud of.

A Leaf on Losing

Write one leaf about what it means to “win.”

Winning is a bit subjective, isn't it? The few times I have won something, I felt like I had stolen from someone more deserving. They never talk about how horrible that feels when they give you the trophy. There in the lime light with a look on your face like a stunned deer: they think it is shock but really, it's guilt.

Call me crazy, but I would rather applaud for others than be the harbinger of another's disappointment. It's so much easier to lose.

There is a grace in losing. It comes from seeing the beauty of others. It comes from facing down your own faults. It comes from knowing there is still more work to be done. It comes from finding, with some relief, that you love the action more than the win.

A Leaf on Self-Loathing

Write one leaf about revenge.

Revenge is the cut on your skin, the extra mile at the gym, the sleepless night after grades are posted. You could never find another loathing so perfectly executed.

A Leaf on Health

killtheignorance asked: hey um...
i enjoy writing and making up stories.. i have for quite sometime.. when i make up the story in my head it's a work of art, but when i write it down its less exciting then i imagined. any tips for that?
thank you.

Write. Every. Day.

Expect a lot of “less exciting than I imagined.”

Revise. Revise that. Revise that even more.

Blessings.

Write one leaf about something that is less exciting than you imagined.

- - - -

Getting new goldfish was less exciting than I imagined.

Animals make you realize what a blessing modern medicine is. The power it has to bring people together by their sheer health. No more black death, no more bubonic plague. Medicine makes you forget how hard it is just to be alive.

It really shouldn't be so alien to think that populations teem with the fluctuating healths of its constituents. And yet all the vaccines and the pharmaceuticals make it feel as if the health of others has little to do with the health of the particular person. We can casually remark on the waning health of others and pay no fear to our own personal health.

With this unconscious ego, I really thought I was doing Flash a favor by getting him some friends. And though I did my fair part in isolating the newcomers, though I watched fish after unnamed fish die of some virulent disease; it simply didn't occur to me that Flash could really die. After all, Flash was almost human in my eyes. And humans just don't succumb with so little... fuss.

I should have never brought those other fish home. I--with all my coursework--should have known better than to bring in a vulnerable population. I shouldn't have let my guard down when the disease became dormant.

Health is a wretched thing. The way it flits in and out of the dying. The suffering of being just alive enough. I have never seen anything more cruel.

I really haven't.

A Leaf on Flow

Write one leaf about flow.

Flow is so easily forgotten. How many times have I opened the door to the apartment without thinking once about the act? How many times have the rivers churned water or our hearts pumped blood? It's always the absence of flow we remember. The fluster of the lost keys. Last summer's dry season. The heart attack.

Flow is the space between pauses. Words before punctuation. Life before trauma. We spend so much of our lives trying to preserve or create it, and yet we are never quite aware of it being there. Staccato.

A Leaf on Art

Write one leaf about going in the wrong direction.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be an author and illustrator. Eric Carle was my biggest hero. I thought he was magic, the way he worked paint and color to make animals come to life on a page. I took so many art classes to refine my technique, hoping to somehow become that creative. I thought that art was a skill that could be learned, honed and stowed away.

I was so wrong. Eric Carle is magic. But it's not because he understands texture or draws beautifully symmetric butterflies. His magic comes from the way he taps into the minds of children. He knows kids, knows how to inspire them. He doesn't just create a picture, he creates wonder... or rather he finds wonder and then translates it into a format for others to experience it.

Being an artist has nothing to do with being good at drawing. To be an artist is to wonder. And being an artist is just one way to live a life of wonder.

A Leaf on Goodness

Write one leaf about clip shows.

I confess I had no idea what a clip show was until I wiki-ed it. But once I found out my mind immediately went to The Office. And my credit card information immediately went to HuluPlus because uhm, why the hell would I not want to see clips of my favorite TV moments in HD?**

Then again, you've asked the girl who would rather rewatch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind over and over and over again than touch any of the unwatched movies on her hard drive.

It's not that I don't like new things... but when something is genuinely just that good, it's good forever. And if it's not that good, then why are you watching the TV show in the first place, homeslice?

- - - -

**Granted, I have a free month-long trial so no money has actually slipped from my hands yet. (But Jim Halpert, you know I would do anything--anything--to be with you...)

A Leaf on Fandom

Write one leaf about Pottermore.

WriteOneLeaf leaves me hanging for whole day

Waiting for a prompt... and then it churns out this?

My friends think Pottermore is fantastic.

And I'm all, "Whatthefuck is Pottermore?

YOU can go scrounging around for a 'Magical Quill'

Because I have better things to do like being

Chained to the bed, anxiously streaming

Bon Iver's LIVE webcast concert, dropping

$70+ on sketchy websites just to

Be in the same room as HIM!"