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From the Bookshelf

 From the Bookshelf

A black bookshelf filled with books. On top is a lamp and some branch decorations.

March 2024

Dear Writers,

Welcome to the March installment of my series From the Bookshelf, in which I create a prompt based on an excerpt of a book I pull from my shelves. The excerpt is presented without context intentionally. The monthly prompts may be for flash fiction or nonfiction, and they may be inspired by all kinds of books: a travel guide, a book of essays, poems, or fiction, a dictionary, a biography . . .

I love writing prompts, and I hope you have fun with these. They are free for anyone and everyone.

This Month’s Prompt
From “The Piano Tuner’s Wives,” in Ireland: Selected Stories, by William Trevor (New York: Penguin, 1999)

I recently returned from an inspiring trip to Spain, and while visiting one of the houses designed by Antoni Gaudi, Casa Batlló, I was struck by every fine detail of the architecture. You had to stand still to appreciate these details, all of which related in some way to the sea, otherwise your senses would be overwhelmed: a ceiling that spirals like a shell; windows with swirling colorful shapes; gold-leaf patterns on the walls; air vents that appear like fins; shadows reflecting light from an opposite wall that made the wall look like it was underwater. It was incredible!  

Of course, attending to small details is what all artists do, including writers. But there’s also a spiritual dimension to witnessing detail, to simply paying attention.

So, in that spirit, here is this month’s excerpt, from William Trevor:

Owen Dromgould had run his fingers over the bark of trees. He could tell the difference in the outline of their leaves; he could tell the thorns of gorse and bramble. He knew birds from their song, dogs from their bark, cats from the touch of them on his legs. There were the letters on the gravestones, the stops of the organ, his violin. He could see red, berries on holly and cotoneaster. He could smell lavender and thyme.

What richness lies in these tiny details, all of which capture every one of your senses. Without knowing the rest of the story, you might understand that Owen has been transformed by something to be able to pay such close attention now. Write a flash about a transformative situation that would bring about—in its aftermath—such clarity of sensibility. It might be a car accident that sends a person into a coma; it might be a long period of grief from losing a loved one; it might be addiction; or a might even be an issue of vision. What predicament would someone be in to lose their ability to focus on their surroundings?

Aim for a word count of 300.


Take this wherever it leads you, and see you next month.

Cheryl

*This monthly prompt series is offered to newsletter subscribers on the first day of every month. The prompts will be posted here on the website during the first week of every month. To sign up for the newsletter, please visit the Contact page.