While reading a book called “Flash! Writing the Very Short Story”, written by John Dufresne, I came across the writing form called a abecedarian. This writing form is where you write a story or other form of creative writing where each new sentence starts with a new letter of the alphabet, going sequentially from A-Z of course. I thought it sounded fun and tried it myself, with a creative writing piece I call On Climate Change:
Another world is not an option. Before we give up on this one, let’s at least put up a fight.
Clean up your mess. Don’t think you can cut corners. Everyone has to learn to work together. Failing to do so, may lead to the annihilation of us all.
Give up the fossil fuels. How? Imagination – learn to use yours. Join together, share ideas. Keep trying. Let no temporary failures steer you off course.
Make clear the risks we face. None of us live alone, quit acting like we do. Open your eyes, open your mind, open your heart.
Practice makes perfect, but persistence wins the game. Quit fighting each other and fight the corrupt system. Right the wrongs that have persisted too long.
Stop worshiping consumerism. Turn your trash into treasure. Undo the damage our selfishness has created.
Voice your appreciation for the strong, proud nature of our mother planet. Watch how she rallies to protect her own. X-ray her heart and share the joy you find within.
YOU hold the future in your collective hands. Zealously protect and celebrate your beautiful home while she is still beautiful.
I hope you liked this little writing exercise. It was indeed fun and I think I might try it again sometime and maybe do a fiction piece.
One night as I sat watching a nature documentary about some ugly species of bird (from God knows where), I grasped an interesting insight into animal nature. Between the expected images of birds diligently working to provide for themselves and their families, they suddenly cut to footage of a few immoral, yet cunning birds sneaking around, stealing materials from the nests the other birds had spent all day building.
A few small twigs, bits of dried brush, even the edge of a candy bar wrapper – all stolen and used to build their own homes by the sweat of their neighbors’ backs. Soon, these crafty avians sat by their new shelters smugly satisfied to have saved themselves a lot of hard work.
As the clueless working class birds continued to run to and fro, never suspecting the treason occurring every time they turned their back, I suddenly realized that greed isn’t exclusively a human vice…and that some birds can be real jerks.
I fell in love with a glimpse of you today…and you never even knew.
But there you were, sitting cross-legged, Indian-style on a gravel walkway winding through a field of scattered tombstones. You wore a grease-splattered McDonald’s uniform and were happily occupying your own world. Your head was down, but bobbing slightly to the rhythm of whatever music was streaming through your earphones.
Was it simply a short break or was the work day done? What was it like to leave the circus that is the home of Ronald McDonald, only to take shelter in the land of the dead a few hundred feet away? The image of you, of all that you represent washed over me and still remains in my mind’s eye – a jumbled collage of America, commercialism, youth, morbidity, and the ever-present hope of eternity.