December is such a special month. I always think it inspires so much creativity. Card and decoration making, baking, pantomimes and nativity plays are just some examples of how the creative juices flow during the build up to Christmas.
I wonder what inspires you to put your pen to paper - finger to keyboard? It might be a song, a picture or a conversation that you have over heard. Not that I'm encouraging you all to eavesdrop, I must add, but these little snippets we catch on the train or sitting in a cafe provide us with a window into another life. A life that can be creatively developed into a character or plot line for your writing.
Today we only need put our nose out of the door to be inspired. You might feel you want to write a poem to capture the snow in all its pure beauty. Or perhaps a short story highlighting the problems it can cause - like commuters stuck on a train for the night in Orpington. The possibilities are endless.
So in between stocking your cupboards ready for the celebrations, hanging decorations and getting paper cuts from all the present wrapping, I encourage you to write in your journals. Jot down all the images and ideas that pop into your head. These are so useful for providing you with fodder for your writing at a later date.
Why not write a flash fiction piece using December (and all that it entails) as your prompt. Send them to me at KMaidmarion@aol.com and I will post them on the blog.
Below is a story I wrote last December, inspired by all the snowfall.
Blizzard’s time on this planet was short - he knew this. From his birth to his final farewell – those precious moments, where he could look out from his beady eyes and down his long carrot nose, and wonder at the brilliance of life, were to be savoured.
All about him the earth stood hard as iron, buried under a brilliant dazzling blanket of snow. And there was a peace – a pure quiet – that was perfect to his ears. He stood, like a winter monument, observing this place and its inhabitants as the soft flakes of snow floated to the earth like sieved icing sugar. The air was clean and cold, as all around him, froze in the quiet anticipation of the season.
But Blizzard was not cold, for his heart was burning with love, for the Christmas Snow Queen, that stood beside him, in quiet companionship. And how could he not love her, and stand in awe of her perfect beauty. With relief, he noticed she watched him, with eyes as deep as the driven snow and as translucent as glass, and the story they told, comforted him, in the knowledge that she too mirrored his feelings. He prayed that their romance would last, that it could withstand the elements. He sent his arrow prayer to the snow clouds, beseeching them to remain above them and sprinkle their love with white diamonds – the fuel they needed to survive.
And there they stood, watching their children - their creators - playing. Amidst the screams and squeals of laughter, as both parent and child, they observed the children’s glee, as they kicked up the snow in wondrous joy. Their parcels and presents forgotten in this Christmas dream come true.
As Blizzard’s heart burned with happiness, the first dreaded rays of sunshine broke through the snow clouds. He felt the first snowdrop fall and run down his long nose, to catch in the warmth of his woollen scarf. He looked at the snow queen he had come to love, and she returned his gaze, not daring to take their eyes from each other – time they knew was precious. He watched and felt their life force slowly trickling away, and in recognition of their feelings, they let their droplets unite and mingle into a pool of pure love. Better to have loved –Blizzard thought, as their final droplets seeped into the cold earth.