writing

Stop Thinking, Start Doing: Take the Leap Toward Your Dream

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Dreams don’t grow from hesitation—they grow when you take that first step, no matter how small.

Thinking about doing something? Stop thinking, do it. Take the first step. Worried it might not work out? Doing nothing might not work out. Why not take a chance on your dream even if it’s only a tiny dream. Recently, I watched a YouTube video where a young couple figured out how to get a million dollar loan so they could buy a drive-in. A drive-in? I thought drive-ins were part of history. This young couple had a dream, took a leap, and are making it work. That was a big leap. Maybe you only have to take a small leap. Take it. If it doesn’t work out, you tried. You won’t always wonder “what if.”

🌸 Points to Ponder

  • What’s one dream you’ve kept tucked away because of fear or doubt?
  • How might taking even a tiny step toward it change how you feel today?
  • What’s riskier: failing after trying, or never knowing because you stayed still?
  • Could your “what if” become your “I did it”?
  • How can the courage of others (like the couple with the drive-in) fuel your own leap?

Flash Fiction Prompt: Face to Face With Darkness: A Sleepless Thriller Prompt

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What happens when the enemy you fear most isn’t out there—it’s staring back at you from inside?

First Line Grab:

I flicked on the light—and there I was, sitting in the chair, smiling back at me.

Paragraph:

At first, I thought it was a trick of exhaustion, a hallucination brewed from too much caffeine and not enough rest. But then the other me spoke. His voice was calm, almost tender, as though he’d been waiting for this moment. “You’ve hidden me long enough,” he whispered, standing, moving with the same rhythm as my own heartbeat. I backed away, but the wall caught me. His eyes glowed with something I had buried years ago—rage, temptation, freedom. Every step he took felt like a countdown, every breath like stolen time. “Tonight,” he said, “only one of us survives.” The clock ticked louder, the silence pressed in. I realized this wasn’t a nightmare I could wake from. This was a reckoning. And the question wasn’t if I would lose sleep—it was if I would live to see the morning.

❓ Three Questions to Spark Writing

  1. How does the protagonist’s “dark side” reflect truths he’s tried to hide?
  2. What setting details could heighten the claustrophobic dread of this encounter?
  3. Who ultimately wins—light, dark, or something in between?

🔑 When “15 Minutes” Turns Into Half a Day: My Battle With a Garage Door Lock

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Amazon reviews promised “easy directions” and “15 minutes.” My garage door had other plans, my ego took a beating, and my vocabulary expanded.

Don’t believe everything you read on the Amazon reviews. I decided to buy a door knob and combination lock for an internal door in my garage. Multiple reviews raved about this product and said the directions were easy to follow and it only took 15 minutes. The keywords to me before I bought the product were easy to follow and 15 minutes. I bought the product. It arrived on time. And after lunch,, 1230, I decided I could finish this by 1245. I have to preface this with I wouldn’t call myself the handiest guy in the world. I do know the difference between a hammer and a screwdriver, but that was only after much tutoring. My ego was in charge of me and was telling me I could do this thing. After two hours of trying to get this lock to work I wanted to kick my ego in the ass. It was too late. I was too far into this and all I had was a hole in the door where the knob and lock were supposed to go. I was making progress. I had an idea of where I was going wrong. My first thought was should’ve left the old lock in. It was working OK. But, no, I’m stubborn . Being stubborn can be good and bad. Forty-five minutes later I thought I was done. I patted myself on the back. Moments later I realized I put the bolt in backwards, my door wouldn’t close. I’m happy I wasn’t recording my language. I took a few deep breaths, took the bolt out and reversed it. I felt like belonged on a cable TV program, NOT! I did it even if it took me nearly a half a day. If you need a door lock replaced, don’t call me. I charge by the hour. Lol.

Points to Ponder

  • How much do we really trust online reviews?
  • When does stubbornness help — and when does it just dig the hole deeper (literally)?
  • Why do small “simple” tasks often balloon into epic sagas?
  • What role does ego play when we attempt projects we’re not trained for?
  • Can humor be the best tool in the DIY toolbox?

Flash Fiction Prompt: Ninety Minutes to Prove Her Innocence

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The clock is ticking. A woman’s life hangs by a thread—and the truth is her only weapon.

First Line:

At 11:30 p.m., the hum of the fluorescent light in her cell sounded like a countdown to the end of her life.

Paragraph:

Ninety minutes. That’s all Maria Sanchez had to change the course of her fate. Outside the thick steel door, the prison corridors echoed with the methodical steps of guards—each one bringing her closer to the gurney. Her hands trembled as she gripped the pen, the last tool left to her. Somewhere in the governor’s mansion, a staffer would read her plea, decide if her words were worth passing on. Every letter had to bleed urgency, truth, and the raw injustice that had stolen her last five years. She didn’t kill Senator Harper. She wasn’t even in the state when it happened. Evidence was buried, witnesses silenced, and now time itself had turned executioner. Maria stared at the clock on the wall. Eighty-nine minutes. Somewhere between despair and resolve, she decided: if the governor wouldn’t listen, the world would. Her story would not die quietly.

Three Questions for Flash Fiction Inspiration:

  1. What hidden truth could shatter the case in the final minutes?
  2. Who stands in the shadows, benefiting from her silence?
  3. What final act could make her voice impossible to ignore?


When Life Becomes a Dance You Never Want to End

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 The best dances—and relationships—are the ones where you can’t tell who’s leading.

Dancing is a great metaphor for life. It’s easy to go on the dance floor and move with the music only glancing at the person with whom you are dancing. To me, it symbolizes the unwillingness to be vulnerable and trust the other.. Two people moving independently, each doing their own thing, not necessarily in relationship to the other. When one chooses to dance where he or she is in physical contact with the other it implies a whole new level in a relationship. There is a closeness where one has to work with the other for the dance to work. It’s the same way in life. In any healthy relationship, both parties put their egos on the shelf. Their relationship works synergistically and effortlessly. Neither party knows who is leading or following. The dance goes on and on and on. Here’s hoping you’re in a relationship with the dance goes on and on and on.

Points to Ponder:

  • In your relationships, are you truly in sync or just moving side by side?
  • How does vulnerability change the way you “dance” with others in life?
  • Can you recall a time when you didn’t know who was leading, but the connection felt effortless?
  • What steps could you take to replace ego with trust in your closest relationships?
  • Is your life’s “dance” one you’d want to keep going forever?

Flash Fiction Prompt: The Woman Who Forgot Herself — and Might Not Want to Remember

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What if the truth about you is the one thing you can’t bear to know?

First Line:

Her name was the first thing she couldn’t remember—and the last thing she wanted to find.

Paragraph:

The mirror in the motel bathroom reflected a stranger. Pale skin. A faint scar above the right eyebrow. Eyes that seemed to search for something and recoil from it at the same time. She’d woken three hours ago on the floor, head pounding, with a bloodstained note in her pocket that read: Don’t trust him. No name. No explanation. The scent of gunpowder clung to her clothes, and the faint hum of tires outside told her she was not far from a highway. Whoever she was, someone wanted her erased—or maybe she’d erased herself. Her hands trembled as she unfolded a second scrap of paper she’d found in her shoe: You know why. She didn’t. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. But the dread in her chest whispered that the truth wasn’t hiding from her. She was hiding from it. And now, someone was coming up the stairs.

Three Questions for Flash Fiction Inspiration:

  1. What truth about her past would make her fear remembering?
  2. Who is “him,” and why can’t she trust him?
  3. Is she running from a killer—or from herself?

Dance in the Rain, Blow Bubbles, and Forget the Calories

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Life’s too short for nothing but seriousness—today’s the perfect day to sprinkle in silliness and let your inner child run free.

Today, bring a little silliness into your life. Take a break and buy an ice cream cone. don’t worry about the calories. Ask them to put some jimmies on top. Instead of listening to a podcast that will tell you how to be successful listen to something that will make you laugh. If it’s raining, go out in the rain and let it soak through and do some singing while you are dancing in the rain. Pull out the Legos or buy some and create something fun. Here’s another thought, go to the market and buy a helium filled balloon tie a message onto the string and let it go. You never know who will find it. Now that’s an adventure. I think I’ll go buy a bottle of bubbles and run outside in my neighborhood scattering them all over. I wonder what my neighbors will think? I don’t care. I hope they enjoy the show. Enjoy your day. Have some fun. Laugh uncontrollably.

Here’s a limerick to make you smile:

There once was a gal in the rain,

Who twirled ‘round again and again.

She blew bubbles in air,

Made the neighbors all stare,

And giggled till she went quite insane!

Points to Ponder:

  1. When was the last time you did something purely for fun without worrying about how it looked?
  2. What’s one small, silly act you could do today to brighten your mood—and maybe someone else’s?
  3. How might letting go of self-consciousness open the door to more joy in your everyday life?
  4. Could you make a “fun list” and check one thing off each week?
  5. Who in your life could use an invitation to join you in your next spontaneous adventure?

Flash Fiction Prompt: Midnight Pulse: Your Next Sleepless-Night Thriller Prompt

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Ready to write the story that keeps even you checking the shadows? This flash fiction prompt will drag your reader into the deep end—fast.

First Line:

The phone rang once—just enough for me to answer—and then I heard my own voice whisper, “Don’t scream.”

Opening Paragraph:

It was 1:17 a.m., and the darkness outside pressed against my windows like a living thing. I hadn’t spoken a word all night, yet my voice—my exact tone, my subtle rasp—had come through the line. The whisper was too close, too knowing, as if the caller had been watching me for hours. My chest tightened as I scanned the room. The shadows seemed to lean forward. I replayed the sound in my mind, searching for flaws that would prove it was a trick, a recording—anything but what my gut told me: it was happening in real time. The silence stretched on, heavy and deliberate. Then, faintly, in the background of the call, I heard something else—my front door slowly creaking open. My body froze. My mind raced. And somewhere in the house, the floorboards began to groan under someone’s weight.

Three Questions to Spark the Reader’s Story:

  1. Who—or what—was using the narrator’s own voice, and how?
  2. What’s waiting beyond that front door, and why now?
  3. Does the narrator escape, fight, or learn a truth more terrifying than death?

Flash Fiction Prompt: The Night the Sky Forgot to End

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What happens when darkness refuses to fall, and the day won’t die?

First Line:

The sun clung to the sky like it had secrets it couldn’t bear to bury.

Paragraph (175 words):

By 11:58 p.m., the whole town was wide awake, staring at a horizon that refused to dim. Children clung to their parents’ legs, dogs barked at nothing, and the air was thick with a heat that didn’t belong to midnight. The mayor stood on the courthouse steps, tie askew, voice cracking as he assured everyone it was “just an atmospheric anomaly.” No one believed him. The farmers said the corn was whispering at them, words in a language they’d never heard. The old woman in the corner diner swore she saw the shadows moving—without anything to cast them. Radios crackled with static, and the preacher’s bell rang by itself. Somewhere, far beyond the fields, a hum began, low and steady, like the earth had a heartbeat we’d never noticed until now. No one knew what was coming. Everyone knew it was already here.

Keep Doing and Doing Until the Light Breaks Through

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When the road is dark, persistence becomes your flashlight — every step forward gets you closer to the way out.

Sometimes you just have to keep doing and doing and doing. It’s the only way you get through. If you keep on doing, refusing to quit, somehow you find a way through and away out. Often times the road is dark and we can’t see more than a few feet in front of us. When that happens, just keep on doing and doing and doing. You have patience on your side. And, you have a no quit attitude. That’s a powerful combination that doesn’t take no for an answer. Just keep doing and doing and doing, and you will do all right.

Points to Ponder

  • When have you faced a challenge where persistence was your only option?
  • How can patience strengthen your determination to keep going?
  • What “small steps” can you take today to keep moving forward?
  • How do you remind yourself that darkness is temporary?
  • Who can you look to for encouragement when the path ahead feels unclear?

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