I am participating in the 2021 Slice of Life Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers and have been challenged to write and post 31 days in a row. With 28 days of rawly produced content written and posted, there is an opportunity to glance at myself as a writer in a manner I have never done before.
My favorite lines from each of the first 28 days are listed below. When I have the chance to observe them collectively, I learn several things about my writing self. For starters, I have zero capacity for sentence complexity, I make up words when I don’t have real ones and I seem to adore convention-breaking or convention non-caring. These are not necessarily good or bad things – they are simply the style I am adhering to and continuing to develop. However, seeing 28 lines in a row, and watching the limitations I have potentially put upon myself and my pen, has me wondering what I might be capable of next. I wonder when I will break the fourth wall of my thoughts and ideas.
Day 1: I am a repeat offender of the redo A redo is a unique kind of encore
Day 2: mindbeats held steady
Day 3: You did lonely and pain so gracefully, you forgot who needed you.
Day 4: FYI…I made up the word punctuationary this morning to make writing more fun.
Day 5: Find the un-suck.
Day 6: The flight of vodkas matched the story-swapping and tipsy-turns of the dance floor.
Day 7: Things I have thrown: my hands into the air, a party, a softball, an aerobee (quite terrbily), an idea, a smile, a fit, 3 cell phones and a Haberman bottle.
Day 8: As fate would have it, 10 years later, I still respond with a hard no.
Day 9: He owned “the quotes“, I held the (thought bubbles).
Day 10: I am terrified that I won’t have learned anything, other than how to post more photos of myself.
Day 11: she is metta, lifted at the high of her heart, and spitting out the shit of the world.
Day 12: If 18 is high score, I think we could all be record breakers.
Day 13: Never miss the moon.
Day 14: in a tear drop necklace and cherry-tinted earrings,
Day 15: Boomerang giggles are my way of describing undying re-laughter.
Day 16: During that week in November 2018, the sky was continually tense.
Day 17: Surrounded by 12 other hotties this morning, I melted into the reflection of my darted eyes and sweaty-necked body.
Day 18: It wouldn’t matter if we had been key-throwing or dropdown red-wine-wise,
Day 19: He was, quite literally, born silent.
Day 20: Overthinking is a chess move, and it works well in games-of-the-like — checkers, cribbage and dice.
Day 21: Next, divide by 4.
Day 22: so far, what’s good?.
Day 23: Pair that with an indie film-rock album duo and you’ve got every semi-strange, hopeless romantic in the room completely melted by love and great writing.
Day 24: This is an inquiry on emotion.
Day 26: Whether he does laundry or not is like whether it is Friday or Monday.
Day 27: She was the smartest, darndest, holy-helledness thing that a 22-year old girl with two older brothers could ever have hoped for, and she was teaching me how to demand what I deserve.
Day 28: #7: Sunday, Joy Oladokun – double duh, this one is Sunday