Why I stopped writing and how I started again

Do I want to write about what’s on my mind or escape the world? I’ve been doing a lot of escaping lately and I like it out here.

After spending so many years writing about the truth, harsh realities or stories about impactful lives, a break from that seems like a great idea. 

The last news story I wrote was for Juneteenth and it ran on the front page of the state’s newspaper. It was and always is an honor.  

But I haven’t written at all since then. Not in my journal, not for fun, not for any thing or body. I didn’t understand why until I sat down to write again.

When something induces trauma into your life no matter how small, you have to heal from it. Writing contributed to one of the darkest times of my life, so naturally I needed to take a break from it. 

Instead of trying to push through like I’d done so many times, I accepted that I was exhausted and that I don’t have to push through anymore.

Instead of writing about me or other people I’m going to write whatever comes to mind, for 30 days. I hope this takes me back to the place I was when creative writing was my jam and not a joy I suppressed for facts all day. 

Every day for the next 30 days I will write from a writing prompt. So check back here on Sundays when I dump the week’s writings into this blog. Enjoy!

Trigger warning. Some of the topics I write about may be related to trauma and/or adult themes. Also, don’t steal my shit.

1. Write your own myth to describe what happens to people when they die.

I don’t want to die, but when it happens I hope it’s different from what everybody says.

“It’s like life flashes before your eyes” is not how I want to go out — unless I end up marrying Trevor Noah because that’s a lifetime flash I can get behind. 

Instead of a flash, I want to float. 

When my time comes and my spirit is sent to the place where good spirits go I want my last moment on earth to be weightless. Instead of life passing before my eyes I want to physically feel the weight of the world leaving my body as I float away. 

No more fear, no more stress, no more pain, just float. 

Because when we die the life we lived doesn’t need to flash before us, we’ve already lived it. I want to start my life after earth the same way I got here. Free.

Photo by Fru00f6ken Fokus on

2. Write about the act of kissing someone without naming a body part.

When our breaths collide I feel protected.

What’s yours is mine.

We melt together until we’re dizzy and the world around us disappears.

It’s just us.

There’s no one else on Earth I’d let take my breath away.

Photo: Elizabeth Montgomery

3. Write a brief obituary for an inanimate object near you.

Thick and red with envy she sits waiting to be used. 

Because being used is her purpose.

To be torn apart and spread.

Devoured and consumed.

She begs for release.

Suffocating in an airtight cage, she’s desperate to taste the salty air of her home.

She’s loved by everyone yet at times forgotten and tossed out for another.

And the cycle continues, her sisters are introduced to the crave.

One by one the sisters are sacrificed to satisfy the masses.

To be torn apart and spread.

To be used.

Because that’s what ketchup is for.

Photo by Dzenina Lukac on

4. Write about a person or object vanishing into thin air.

I met my best friend Jacob in 7th grade. He was the only person who understood me. 

He introduced me to my all-time favorite songs and we bonded over our strict parents who rarely let us hang out together after school. We always ate lunch together and everyday I looked forward to riding the bus home with him. That’s when we’d share our deepest secrets. We both shared the dread of what was to come once the ride was over. 

He always got off the bus before me and would make funny faces until he was but a speckle in the distance. We had this routine throughout high school, by then there wasn’t much we didn’t know about each other. 

I wonder where he is now.

Photo by Maria Naichenko on

5. A woman walks into the ocean in a red ball gown.

She stood on the beach looking up at the moon while the ocean shifted the sand beneath her feet. The red ball gown she wore soaked up the sea water as she took a step closer to the waves. 

With each step into the water her heartbeat louder in her ears. The water was dark and only the light of the moon helped guide her deeper. She walked until the waves kissed her knees, then she turned to face her husband.

Together they stood, eye to eye, hand in hand. This was the end. The love they had for each other was too great for this world. Frantic red and blue lights reflected off the ocean and sirens blared around them, but she could only hear his voice.

“Come with me,” he said.

He held out his hand as he walked deeper into the ocean and she followed him to the end of the Earth.

Photo: Elizabeth Montgomery


2 responses to “Why I stopped writing and how I started again”

  1. Glad you are writing again! We need your beautiful impactful words.

    Sean Daniels The Kasser Family Artistic Director Arizona Theatre Company Sent from a fancy wireless device


  2. Just stumbled across your website and really love it already ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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