Writers Conference Pre Game is September 22 at Central!

By jocowrites

The Writers Conference Pre-Game is September 22nd at Central and the planning committee is excited to distribute this year's conference book: Creative Acts for Curious People How to Think, Create, and Lead in Unconventional Ways by Sarah Stein Greenburg.

This month we would like to see some examples of your responses to prompts from the conference book! Choose a prompt that has a writing response and post that response here along with something you learned while completing it.

As always, keep responses under 500 words and happy creating!

Submit your response here.

By Annie Newcoemr


moonlight grazes over the tops of hills reflects footpath around lake reflects light without shadows reflects moonlight, over the tops of hills, grazing

Annie Newcomer


So I brought them home Abandoned angels without wings abandoned puppies wandering streets abandoned So I brought them home

Annie Newcomer


There is no saint without a past, no sinner without a future Remember and then surrender remember and then forgive Remember There is no sinner without a saint, no future without a past

Annie Newcomer

By Nina Cope


It was taken when I was young. Naive, Fearful, Quiet because I was young. Changing, Hardened, Hating because I was young When it was taken.

By Charles

His eyes Are filled with A sly humor and wit Beyond his years. He ensures our days Are filled with Creativity and self-expression, And ensures my memories Of all these days Are filled with His eyes.


I’m listening to podcasts Most of the time If you see me wearing headphones. It’s like chatting with old friends Or overhearing some hot gossip, and Most of the time I get so invested in the episode That there is no room For my anxiety Most of the time I’m listening to podcasts.


The pie I ate Had organic blueberries Bursting with juice. Each bite I ate Was pure delight. I hope My neighbors who left it out to cool won’t mind I ate
The pie.

By Joy Rock

Checking In

You good? Long night Fun times

Car ride You good? Black heels Stumbling Fallen

You good?

Checking In

By Joy Rock

Yoga Toga

Sweating Heat Closeness

Burning Sweating Darkness Light

Calories Sweating

Yoga Toga

By Joy Rock

You, ME, Everything

ID me at the store Tell me I'm ugly at times Put me on the shelf I'll be by your side ID me at the store Let's go on this ride What am I to you? Am I your ugly photo? ID me at the store ME, you, everything

by Joy Rock

By Katt

Pardon the Confusion

You’re telling me there is a chance? For what. A second date? Uncomfortable car rides. A chance to feel unsafe, To ask for angel shots, Pity glances? A chance, you’re telling me there is?

Amusement park, more like sideshow.

Before it’s too late Dump them. Are they a Six Flags? Too many ups and downs plenty of flags, lots red. Dump them. Stop standing in line, who else is in line? Why is there a LINE? Dump them before it’s too late.

Was or Am.

This is new. Happiness I mean. I know it. I’ve felt it. Happiness Now it stays, It grows, laughs even. Happiness, is this new?

The Skinny Poem was created by Truth Thomas and we want to experience what you can create with this poetry form!

A Skinny is a short poem consisting of 11 lines. The first and eleventh lines must use the same words, but not necessarily in the same order. The second, sixth, and tenth lines must be identical.

Visit for some excellent examples of Skinny poetry. You can submit 1-3 original poems of your creation. Submit your piece Here. Read other submissions Here.

By Anna

If you look hard enough, memories already dot the skin of the careless. Short, white scars bridge your knuckles and mark the time you spent picking up “Quarters” in middle school. Longer lines trudge up from your knees from when you were stubborn enough to lift 120 pounds by the sharp metal channel. The itchy sunburn and swollen spider bite are fleeting; old memories can’t be felt by a feathery finger touch. Some old memories demand to be seen: a bullet, a car crash, a fire. Others take a while to materialize calluses, laugh lines, and a childhood spent in the sun. Your body is a temple, every milestone a festival, and this artform takes a lifetime of homage.