Little Brother - Greg

2 December 06
Prompt: It All Started When . . .

     My nine-year-old brother stood next to my bed in the middle of the night and began shaking me. I was dead asleep and when woke up, I tried to hit him in the dark. He easily stepped away, and waited while I roused to my senses.
      “Wake up!” he said in an insistent whisper.
      “What do you want?” I growled.
      “Shh. You have to see this.”
      “See what?!”
      “It’s outside. You have to see it.”
      I thought about going back to sleep, but he was so excited, and when he got like this, there was no stopping him. Plus, in my fogginess, I became curious. I rolled over and threw my feet out of bed. It was a California summer and the air was warm, even at this time of the night. I was 12 years old.
      “C’mon!” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward. I stood and jerked my arm away. Big brothers don’t like little ones leading them around. It isn’t natural. Still, I slowly followed him out the door into the dark hallway.
      We passed my parent's bedroom door and I could hear my father's dull snoring. We crept downstairs into the tile entryway. Poochie, our yellow dog, wagged her tail excitedly, her nails clicking on the tile. By brother shushed her, then slowly opened the front door.
      “This better be good,” I said.
      He said nothing, but quietly lead me across the front yard into the neighborhood street. The town was without traffic and utterly quiet, and the night looked and felt different that I’d ever seen it before.
      “Where are we going?” I said.
      “Just c’mon, he replied. “Just c’mon. . .”

Tahoe Cabin- Cyndi

Prompt: Music in the Background

This prompt brought to mind a trip to Lake Tahoe.

The atmosphere in the cabin was so easy-going and cozy. A fire crackled merrily, there were sounds of laughter and the camaraderie of the other families on the retreat completed the mood. Most everyone had been coming to this place for years- the kids since they were born, and they felt as comfortable here as in their own homes. There was no pressure, just time to read, reflect and unwind in a peaceful setting. It was a welcome change of pace from the usual chaotic dailiness of life.

There was the puzzle table, already going strong on its second challenge of the weekend. The edge pieces were almost complete, defining the border, while the other randomly scattered pieces waited their turn to be fit into place. People would wander over to the table to work together for awhile before moving on to their next interest. The card table was set up for its game of Magic cards, the players with their small colored translucent stones in front of them. The smaller kids were running around pulling things out of the game closet to explore. And of course there was the juggling! That seemed to be the most popular thing to try and learn. (Although for some it remained an unattainable skill to master.)

But underneath all of these activities there was the sound of the old piano. The music filtered through everything else, creating a backdrop upon which to build. Turns were taken and some joined together in duets. There were quite a variety of selections- old songs, hymns, even Disney tunes. A continuous melody floated through the air as the others would hum or sing along. It didn't matter that the songs weren't always skillfully played. It was music just the same and it was an integral part of the cabin experience. Even the youngest relished their turn to sit in front of the aged upright. They knew, and could feel it too, that the music that comes from within would draw us all together, uniting us on a common note.

-Cyndi

End of the Road - Greg

The first Jump-start meeting consisted of Dixie and I. This is wat came out of it.

Jump-Start Writers. 24 Nov 2007
Prompt: It was the end of the road

So this is what the sunrise looks like, Harley thought, feeling the rough gravel press into his cheek as he lay sprawled out in the Mojave desert. The salty taste of blood trickled onto his tongue alongside residual vomit from a night before. He could smell the alcohol on his breath and feel a dull throb in his body from the beating from the night before. His head felt like a brick and he did not want to move, but that was all right because his face was pointed toward horizon.

The sun had not risen, and would not for a few minutes, but for the first time in his life, Harley noticed the sunrise. He must’ve woken up outside like this 100 times, yet had never noticed its beauty. The sky was a pink vermillion with a golden edge rimming the desert horizon. It looked like heaven, or how Harley imagined heaven looked.

His cheast filled with something--gratefulness, love? It will be different this time, he thought. No, he knew. This would be the last time for him. The last time waking up outside in some strange place hung over and bleeding. He knew he could quit, knew how to quit, had friends who had quit who would help him.

I’ve seen hell, he thought staring at the sunrise, and now I see heaven. I’m getting out of hell starting today. The idea seemed to liberate something inside that had felt shackled for so long. It was good he could enjoy this morning, because after today he would go onto the next thing. The next phase of his life. He wondered if this is what it felt like to be reborn.

Harley smiled. Yeah. Reborn. Who would’ve ever thought? The horizon was now ablaze with golden skies and silver shards of cloud. He felt his spirits soar. Lord, I’m coming home, he thought.

Footsteps in the gravel approached, then stopped. “This is the end of the road, Harley,” said the voice behind him. The metallic crack of a bullet chambered into the pistol.

Two Individuals - Camden

PROMPT: Two People On The 83rd Floor Of The Second Twin Tower Who Have Just Watched The First Tower Fall

--

“I wonder what happens when you die.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”

The two men sit cross legged on the 83rd floor of the second twin tower. They watch New York through a gaping hole in the wall. A beam had fallen in the tremors, shattering the floor-to-ceiling window. Everyone else had already jumped.

The first tower falls. The first man sighs, pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offers it to the other man.

“No thank you. I don’t smoke.”
“Are you sure? Last day on Earth.”
“I’m asthmatic.”

“Well, okay.” As dust wafts up from the ruins of the first tower, as smoke billows past them and out through the open wall.

“I never liked you,” he says, taking a drag. The other man nods.

“Me either.”
“Of course, I have a degree in Freudian Psychology, so actually, I think I’m in love with you.”
“What did you do with a degree in Freudian Psychology?”
“Got a job here.”

They fall silent, listening to the creak of the building above, the sirens below, the screams all around.

“I’m straight,” says the other man. “And I think I will have a cigarette.”

“Are you sure? Last day on Earth.” But he hands him a cigarette, smiling. A cigar may just be a cigar but a cigarette rarely is. It’s classic phallic fixation. He shakes his head, says, “I never really knew.”

“What?”

“Sexuality. Or Freud. Or why I got a job here. Or where we go when we die.”

The other man looks thoughtful. “None of that is very important now, anyway. Death is, as JM Barrie wrote, an awfully big adventure.”

“JM Barrie.”
“I majored in Children’s Literature.”
“And you got a job here?”
“I got a job here.”

The creaking and groaning of the tower grows more ominous.

“I suppose the tower is going to collapse.”
“Yes.”

They stand and throw their cigarette butts out the gaping hole in the wall. He feels heavy, but a little bit giddy, like a teenager.

“Shall we jump?”
“Nah.”

The creaking is louder and there’s rumbling from the ground. The smoke is darker, thicker, making his eyes sting. He realizes suddenly that he’s shaking..

“Are you leaving anything behind?” shouts his companion over the roar of the world rushing up to meet them.

“Not really, are you?”
“No.”

His companion turns to him, throws his arms around him and kisses him. The second tower collapses.

Introduction!

Welcome! This is the Blog Site for the Jump-start Practice Writing Group. We meet in Palo Alto, California every Saturday morning rain or shine at 8:30 AM to vitalize our writing, explore creative possibilities and have fun in a supportive writing community. We write for about an hour, and the group is open to anyone interested in writing. All we ask is that you bring a pen, a pad, and a 3 dollar donation. Email here for directions and questions.

Jump-start was started by
Greg Kimura, a California poet, in November 2006, who was looking to spice up his own creative life.

The premise of Jump-start is that although writing is, at its essence, a solitary creative process, you don’t have to walk this path alone and that some company would not only be fun, but productive as well. What we have found was that not only was it fun and productive, but it is extremely healing.

The group has ranged anywhere for 4 to 7 people. Some of us are very experienced writers. Some of us just like to write. If you come with the intention to create and support, you are welcome.

The basics of the group are as follows:

1. Welcome, Invocation, Introductions


2. Thoughts and Suggestions on Writing (From Writing Alone, Writing Together by Judy Reeves)


3. An inspirational reading on creativity.
   
4. Pull a prompt from the black bag
   
5. Write 17 minutes (or so)
   
6. Optional reading (no feedback, listeners just hold the creative space)
   
7. Pull another prompt
   
8. Write 10-12 minutes (or so)
   
9. Optional reading
   
10. That’s it!

I have found this to be one of the most enjoyable, creative and healing projects I’ve ever done. If you are interested in starting your own practice writing group in your own town, Greg is happy to share his experience and knowledge on how to do it. Email him here.


Jumpstart Publishing

The Jumpstart blog presents work developed from the Saturday morning meeting. The greatest value of creativity is simply in creating. But giving your creation to the world, can complete the circle. If you enjoy the the work read here, please feel free to leave comments.

Thanks!