Win a copy of Patricia A. Hawkenson’s new book of poems--and a few other titles

When we launched Promptly last summer, we released our digital baby into
the big scary digital world with a Kick-Off Breaking-Block Challenge
featuring prompts and prizes for a top story response.

From among clever mobsters, literary reflections, old ghosts and everything in
between, Patricia A. Hawkenson
emerged victorious for her excellent poem “Hedge Fund.”

Now, Hawkenson—a poet, stained-glass kaleidoscope artist and
educator—has just released her first collection: Magnetic
Repulsion: 100 Poems From Desire to Disgust.

In honor of Hawkenson’s work, we’ll be giving a copy
of her new book (and some other interoffice swag we’ve got on hand) to a
random commenter/story-poster of this entry on Monday, and we’ll feature some intriguing abstract prompts excerpted from her poems
below.

Here’s to hoping you have an excellent writing weekend. (If you’re going
to be in the Buckeye state today or Saturday, stop by the Mad Anthony
Writers Conference—and, better yet, swing by my workshop on magazine
querying and say hello.)

* * *

WRITING PROMPTS:Courtesy of Patricia A. Hawkenson

Feel

free to post your
response(s) (500
words or fewer, funny, sad or stirring) inspired by the following prompts in the Comments section below.
If you’re having trouble with the
captcha code sticking, e-mail your story to me at
writersdigest@fwmedia.com, with “Promptly” in the subject line, and I’ll
make sure it gets up.

Perhaps, it is because I have never actually seen one, that my
creative
mind imagines a barbarous, torturous device so heinous that …

* * *

Time stands still
as our eyes connect
with my wordless stare
that threatens to end his game

* * *

"After all these years together
I thought I owed you
a final going away gift," I said
looking him straight in his eyes.

* * *

There is no way to search for the beginning, that first drop of
suspicion that flowed from my fingers into your pockets. Still, my hand
reached in…

* * *

You are slowly waking with one eye


skeptical as you see me lying beside
you

smearing the line between


what I remember and what you forgot.