"Tell me about a storage unit or someplace you stored things."
Natalie Goldberg, Old Friend from Far Away

My grandfather converted his apartment basement storage unit into a woodworking shop. In the dimly lit hallway leading to his caged unit, you could see his workbenches; they had spotlights including metal reflectors. The ball jars filled with nails and screws sparkled on the floodlights. I always found it strange that he worked amongst other's unwanted belongings. It felt cold and lonely in the basement, where the laundry machines and my grandfather's whistling under his breath were the only noises.

Write about one of the things listed on your list from yesterday.

My cheese grater is from a bag of things my stepmother was going to toss in the trash. It is one of the flat metal graters with a looped handle. It is stainless steal and does not have a dot of rust on it, even though I frequently use it to drain my pasta.
This little piece of metal grates my favorite food into a meltable delight. Before my college friend, Tina, taught me to grate in one direction, I used to fiercely go up and down along its surface. The grater seems much happier now that it is only required to go one direction, and it is packed in with many other less loved kitchen utensils.

I love lists.

I am grateful in this moment for these seven places:
Ocean Beach in San Francisco
Chicago's lakefront
The green grass in Humboldt Park
The reading loft in my office
My cozy pillow-top bed
A booth in any diner
The open road along Highway 1


I am grateful in this moment for these seven things:
My cheese grater
My book collection
The stacks at Harold Washington Library
My plants
My new winter boots
My pizza stone
My computer

"Tell me some details about an uncle or grandfather."
Natalie Goldberg, Old Friend from Far Away

My grandfather Jimmie was strict; he liked rules and enforcing them. I am not sure if his profession as a principal of an all-boys school made him this way or if he chose his profession, so he could spend his days cracking a ruler on the wrongdoers. I did not fear my grandfather as much as my brother did, or maybe I had less to fear because my brother was taking all the beatings. Either way, I had it easier.

Why isn't your novel done? List five excuses, then take action, and eliminate one of your answers.

1. Time management, not spending free-time writing
2. Fear of showing others my work
3. The ending is not written
4. Fear of rejection, slowly writing/editing prolongs this
5. Not writing every day

"I want you to write a paragraph from the point of view of an inanimate object."
Louise Doughty, A Novel in a Year

As I pull the knife from the victim's chest, I can hear the knife saying,
    "How did I get here, this isn't what I wanted to do with my life in this kitchen. Now I am being stuffed in a plastic bag, and I will travel through the chain of evidence and finally end up in trial to convict some guy of murder. I just wanted a lazy life of cutting fresh bread or slicing my owners morning bagel. These groves on my blade were not meant to cut flesh, I am a bread knife for god's sake."

"Tell me how you felt about math. Don't just say, "I hated it." Write about an experience around it: counting out change, a math course, a situation in school, using division or multiplication, keeping an expense account—or maybe you are one of the rare ones that keeps a math journal."
Natalie Goldberg, Old Friend from Far Away

I was not a big fan of math in high school. What I remember most is there was a rumor that my geometry teacher was sleeping with one of my classmates, I blame my bad grade on that distraction. It was not until I started dating a math major in college that endlessly tutored me for my calculus class that I remember having the joy of getting a 100% on a math test. My math skills have continued to decline since our breakup.