Songwriting Without Boundaries (20 page)

Home beacon, I can see it, little light calling my eyes to its tiny star calling from the mountains. The gas big E pointer finger red and thin, a babbling exhausted metal body chugging as though it will only take a few more breaths, as the carburetor sings a eulogy, swollen and sullen.

So many possibilities here. So many kinds of songs. And in the mouth of a carburetor …

You give it a try.

Autumn Remembers

CHANELLE DAVIS:
Autumn remembers you dancing in its fallen leaves and wonders where you have gone.

Raking leaves into a pile under the oak tree, falling in it, waist deep, buried, brown and crinkly they scratch my skin and get in my mouth, spit them out, chasing you round and round the pile till we’re dizzy and fall over …

SUSAN CATTANEO:
Every year, autumn opens its scrapbook and remembers the color of decay, turning the page of each yellowed leaf and fondly tracing the sky with bare finger branches …

Leaves kicked up by a childish wind, smoke curling lazily out the brick chimneys, pulling the wool jacket in closer, a ghost of breath comes out of open lips in the morning …

This prompt personifies autumn. It’s up to you to find the memories. If, on the other hand,
autumn
is the direct object of
remembers
, you’ll look for a collision using the form “___________ remembers autumn.” Just make sure the noun you choose doesn’t actually have the ability to remember.

Now, give it a try.

Handkerchief Pleads

ANDREA STOLPE:
My handkerchief pleaded for allergy season to pass as I released an army of pollen-induced explosions into the worn cotton weave.

I remember my dad’s handkerchiefs, soft from months or even years of washing and the faint powdery scent of the dryer sheet tumbling and caressing it in the washer. Like his T-shirts, the fabric would gradually thin until the tan of his skin would lend a darker hue to the white as he wore it.

SUSAN CATTANEO:
Balled up in the old man’s pocket, the wrinkled handkerchief pleaded for a good ironing.

Chess pieces set up on a green park bench, the crowd leans in close watching him think, cardigan sweater with tortoise shell buttons, a cigarette juts out of thin lips, ash burning down, palsied hands and yellow nails …

Note that
plead
is an intransitive verb. It doesn’t require a direct object, so
handkerchief
needs to stay in subject position. It could take an indirect object, introduced by a preposition: pleads
with
, pleads
for
….”

Your turn.

Yup. Verbs. More tomorrow.

DAY #5

FINDING VERBS FROM NOUNS

Today I’ll give you noun prompts, and you’ll find a verb to create the collision. Again, don’t just grab anything, but take your time and look for provocative, productive combinations. As you did yesterday, for each combination, write a sentence or short paragraph illuminating the metaphor. Then do a ninety-second piece of object writing, using the combination as the prompt.

Remember, the noun can also come after the verb as direct object, with another noun providing the subject.

Crossbow ___________

JESS MEIDER

Crossbow
tongues
:
The crossbow tongues arrows like a fire tongues a wick.

Soldiers scurry in ant chaotic style, red dots rampant, almost flamboyant across the dreary fields of Pennsylvania. Native crossbow; a quick and lethal ringing sound impales a young man’s rib cage.

SUSAN CATTANEO

Crossbow
smiles
:
A crossbow smiled with tension as the archer placed the arrow in place and pulled it back.

Horses stamp and whinny nervously, straw is crunchy underfoot, chain mail hangs heavy on the broad chest, vision narrowed in the metal helmet, the tickle of sweat trickling down back and neck, aiming out the parapet opening …

The shape a crossbow takes when it’s pulled back is like a smile. There’s some real tension there, because the smile becomes sinister. When you tune your vision to metaphor, things like that jump out at you. And the arrow as a wick in the flame of a crossbow? Nice. Shapes are evocative. Notice them.

Your turn.

Kettle ___________

BONNIE HAYES

Kettle
laughs
:
The kettle laughs merrily on the stove and then shrieks its little song of readiness.

Outside, a chainsaw snorts and then cackles gleefully. A jay screams at some joke the squirrels tell him, and overhead, the clouds skip through the sky. My tea is hot and sweet, and day is clear, nothing hurts right now—for the moment, I’m happy.

SUSAN CATTANEO

Kettle
screeches
:
The kettle screeches on the stove, a hot-aired harpy spewing steam.

Blue flames taunt her metal belly, the pillow of tea bag, a raspberry sachet, tossed into the steaming vat, water swirling with brown, hands cradle the china mug then pull away when the heat overwhelms …

Once the kettle laughs, the entire Disney movie begins, with chainsaws, jays, and even clouds joining the orchestra. Next door at Susan’s house, the kettle isn’t quite as happy. Notice both Bonnie and Susan keyed into sound to find their verbs; keying into shape might have brought out something like
squats
.

Your turn.

Waitress ___________

CHANELLE DAVIS