Profile of a content writer

I wrote this piece as a timed exercise, modelled on Natalie Goldbergs: “Thunder and Lightning”

I am feeling brave enough to “cut the umbilical cord” to let it fly out here and allow you this little insight into me.

tea, books and kindle to hand

Seated on my couch, in my apartment, with laptop on my lap, mug of tea to hand (teapot within reach) my books close by, my phone clicking beside me, my kindle awaiting my touch and Alexa listening to my every command I feel prepared.

The world is quiet around me. I focus on the clock ticking. It ticks but it is not a functional clock, it is a decorators piece. Time is not important.

I hear the cooing of pigeons, the tug of wind, teenagers gathering, perhaps a car idling by. It is Sunday afternoon, business is for tomorrow.

Taking my eyes off the screen, I notice the sunlight dancing on the ceiling, the shadows cast on the floor. The sunlight highlights the wood of my table, my daughters library chair and adds interest to the ‘rent-neutral’ tone of the painted walls. It also makes patterns of the thin layer of dust settling on the dresser. The ‘cleaner’ will work when she is ready.

Gradually, as I settle into my role, my brain stores the important sensations, records the feelings and recalls memories. Like a huge library of books, chapters and verses it references all for future use….

This is my profile

I am a content writer

I am content.

It took me about 20 minutes to write the original and then a further 15 to re-read edit and make changes. I think it was a good exercise for me. What exercises, writing strategies, lessons do you recommend, follow and use?


*”cut the umbilical cord”

Natalie Goldberg Thunder and Lightning pg 186

In the library

Ssshhh! This is a library!

Reverence demanded I curl up on the long window seat. Enjoying the late afternoon sun teach the dust mites to dance, I opened the newly chosen book.

Prologue: Our heroine lives in a sleepy town on the edge of Lake Erie. She shares the house with a middle aged man, who smokes a pipe and offers a quiet comfort when most needed. Otherwise he fades into the silent walls aware of her requirement for order and serenity.

Chapter 0ne: My story…..

Library silence does not disturb my reading. Memories threaten but are sternly hushed.

book shelves and seating space
Relaxing space

This short story is my first attempt at a new genre and posting as part of a flash fiction challenge, hosted at Carrotranch

Flash Fiction

I would appreciate your comments and ideas so that I can develop this craft.

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