In five words, write a story about this photograph. #AnnEdallRobson #FromWhereICome #fivewordstory #photowritingprompt #CapturingMomentsOthersMayNeverGetToExperience #RuralLiving #WhoaBackUpStop #AnnEdallRobsonPhotography #annedallrobsonbooks #ladybug #wildyarrow
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99 Words...and a little bit moreA memory of herself standing behind the podium looking out into a blackened room. A few whispered words escaped through her lips. Would she ever get past those first words? Clearing her throat, she looked up from the notes lying on the wood. The audience didn't see her suck in a few deep breaths. The confidence butterflies flittering around in her stomach found a place to land. The words came easily, projecting her strong voice that had found itself somewhere along the way. When had that happened? Where was that other person? “Thank you all for coming.” Applause erupted My first memories of being in front of a crowd to speak was at the Christmas concert held each year at the local community hall. Each grade would recite or sing. There was the occasional person within those six grades that stood out from the group to do a solo of words or song. I was not that person. I was the little girl who hid behind her dad when Santa came into the community hall to hand out gifts at the school’s Christmas concert. The two-room school was not big enough to house the community that came out to support such activities; however, it was plenty big enough for practices. Grade 1 to 3 in one room and 4 to 6 in the other. It was during those early years that schools within the district were encouraged to send students to Williams Lake for a competition that was held there each year. Going to Williams Lake from Lone Butte was a journey in itself; but going there to recite a poem, on a stage, in front of people and judges, was terrifying. I do not remember the outcome, which is probably for the best. In my tween years, my love of horses took my confidence to a new level. High school rodeos, gymkhanas, and even rodeo royalty. Who would have thought? I have to say that it was still not easy for me to get up in front of people to talk, or go into a room full of strangers, but somehow I still managed to do some silly, crazy things—with confidence. When I launched Moon Rising: An Eclectic Collection of Works, I did, what I thought at the time, all the things needed to let people know about the book. What I hadn’t banked on was the cold sweaty hands and butterfly stomach when I stood at the front of the room, in front of my peers and guests. I was terrified. I am still not crazy about being the centre of attention in a crowded room, or anywhere else for that matter. However, I have gotten over the urge to run in a different direction when I am asked about any of the eleven books I have published, or the writing process that got me to where I am today, or about things I know about just because I do. I often wonder where that little girl has gone. That makes me smile because my answer is always nowhere. She surfaces every so often and between the two of us, we get through what we are facing. She says it’s okay to be silly. She encourages me to step outside of the quiet, humble, person. She encourages me to tell stories with confidence. She reminds me to let where I am from, guide me on the journey to where I am going. She is, and always will be, me.
#AnnEdallRobson #FromWhereICome #99WordStories #FlashFiction #weatherstation #ranchtradition #writingprompt # #confidence #shy #introvert #publicspeaking #bragging #Iamshe #familytradition #CapturingMomentsOthersMayNeverGetToExperience #TheOldWays #RuralLiving #WhoaBackUpStop #AnnEdallRobsonPhotography October 10, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about confidence. Is a character confident or struggling? Why? Is confidence cultural, compelling, or conflicting? What is the value of confidence? Go where the prompt leads!
99 WORDS...AND A LITTLE BIT MORE “Between your thumbs.” “Like this?” “Almost,” he said, “here, let me help you.” “No! I can do it myself.” He laughed at the spunk. Sitting on a rock in front of her, he picked another blade of grass, showing her how to position it between her five-year-old’s thumbs. “Squeeze it, but not too tight and lock your fingers together.” He instructed, moving her thumbs against her lips. “Now blow hard.” The noise sounded like a goose with a sore throat. She danced with excitement before throwing her arms around her brother’s neck. “I made the grass talk.” Seven years is a long time. This is the age spread between my brother and I. At times it was an abyss that was hard to conquer. I suppose, had I been a boy, it might have been easier for me to emulate ALL of the things one wants to do when you look up to an older sibling. Activities like running on the top rail of the snake fence, climbing trees, building forts, whittling, and making noises with a blade of grass tucked between one’s thumbs. Our Mother had other ideas about how girls should act. Poor mom; she wished for me to be a lady in training. In reality, this might have been a simpler task if we lived ‘urban’ and not ‘rural’. I am certain I caused her much consternation, as in my younger opinion, there was no need to be ladylike (all of the time). Now that I am at an age to appreciate younger generations who have a command of manners, morals, and respect, I am thankful Mom persevered. One of her favourite sayings was, “Manners are free and they will get you more in life than you will ever know.” So true…But, I wander from my desire to discuss the person who patiently, and sometimes not so patiently, put up with me at my young age, bugging him to ‘show me’. While Mom attempted to tame the budding tomboy in me, it was my brother who (perhaps) unknowingly showed me the ropes. He taught me how to whittle a whistle out of a piece of green willow. Instructed me to use the part of the snake fence where the logs intertwined as a ladder to get to the top rail. With further words added directing me to “Don’t look at your feet, look at the other end of the log and you won’t fall off.” Easy for him to say; but, he was right. In time, I was running along the top rail. The stories could go on and on. And yes, he was the one who showed me how to make the grass talk, or maybe I should say squawk; and more importantly, which grass was the best to use to make the sound happen.
#AnnEdallRobson #FromWhereICome #99WordStories #FlashFiction #weatherstation #ranchtradition #writingprompt #insects #invasicebugs #commonfly #bladeofgrass #familytradition #CapturingMomentsOthersMayNeverGetToExperience #TheOldWays #RuralLiving #WhoaBackUpStop #AnnEdallRobsonPhotography September 26, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes a blade of grass. What can you compare it to? Or in contrast? Is it a character prop or a story linchpin? Go poetic, go any genre or tone. Go where the prompt leads!
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Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life. "Capturing moments others may never get to experience.” Archives
April 2024
99 Words
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