Hello, Hello, Hello!
Monday people!
So happy to have you all here. I can hardly believe we are halfway through this first Year of 52 Prompts!!! You all have been amazing. If you’ve been here since the beginning, then you probably have twenty-six tiny stories under your belt. I hope some of you revise and re-work those stories and then send them out into the world. Or not! Sometimes, it’s enough to have just written them and posted them here. Either way, it’s been a blast and I thank you all for coming along on this ride with me.
Today’s prompt will probably remind you of the “I remember…” prompt we did during Week #25. As with “I remember…”, this new prompt involves the repetition of a word or phrase at the start of the sentences we write. So, it’s a similar prompt, yes. But I think what you’ll end up producing will feel quite different.
This prompt isn’t based on memory—it’s about building emotion, resonance, story, action, movement, etc., through the device of repetition.
As you may recall, there’s a word for this type of repetitive literary device: Anaphora. In anaphora, a word or phrase is repeated at the start of sentences, clauses, or phrases.
Anaphora is everywhere. Think of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s repetition of the words “I have a dream” or “Let freedom ring” in his famous speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Or the opening lines of Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities where the words “it was” are repeated over and over (“It was the best of times. It was the worst of times…”). Song lyrics often repeat words. Think of Sting repeating the word “every” in “Every Breath You Take.”
That’s the thing about anaphora—the repetition is memorable, rhythmic, and often powerful. We feel emotion building in the drumbeat of the words. The repeated words stand out, becoming stronger with each mention. A reader can’t help but think: “This is all adding up to something, this buildup, this repetition.”
Here are a few examples of stories that use anaphora. Read them and see the possibilities!
The first is by Jordan Wiklund, published online at the journal Brevity: “When You Meet My Father.” The repeated words are “Ask him about….” There’s a story buried in the lines of these sentences. Take a look.
“Passing,” by Dhyanna Raffi-David uses repetition of the word “if” to tell the story of a father’s passing. The structure helps us feel the anger and other emotions of the narrator.
In “Unfinished Houses,” the writer Ani King repeats variations of the words “I fall in love with women…”
And lastly, here’s a Lydia Davis story that is—surprisingly—quite long! Called “How He Changed Over Time,” she uses variations of “He used to…” The story appears online in the Virginia Quarterly Review.
TODAY’S PROMPT
It’s anaphora time!
Your prompt is to use anaphora to tell a story.
Feel free to choose any phrase/word that you like to repeat.
Here are some words and phrases you could use, which are variations on the ones used in this week’s stories:
Tell him/her/about…
Tell them about…
Tell me about…
Tell me…
Don’t tell me…
I used to…
He/she used to…
They used to…
We used to…
If…
If only…
Here are a few other suggestions:
Maybe…
Sometimes…
I would never…
I never knew…
I thought…
As always, you can write as much as you wish, but please keep anything you post in the comments to a maximum of 400 words. That may mean posting only a portion of your story and then summarizing the rest. Thank you!
See you next Monday!
All the Stories
The story was that Mrs. Barrett caught Mr. Barrett in the back office with his pants down and the new girl on her knees. The story was that Dr. Akins put a hand on Lavonne Miller’s butt when they were dancing at Delores Martin’s wedding. The story was that Peter Baker’s mom put scotch in her morning tea and vodka in her afternoon cola. The story was that Mr. Von had his secretary in the car with him when he crashed into the divider on the freeway. The story was that Miss Collins was in love with Miss Feder and that someone had seen them kissing in Miss Feder’s Chevy Impala in the parking lot. The story was that Brian Dean lost his virginity to Mr. Anderson on that boy scout trip. The story was that Alice Plant was only pretending to overdose under the bleachers in the back field. The story was that Frankie Norman wore his wife’s underwear under his khakis. The story was that it was Bill Kemper who broke Frankie Norman’s jaw. The story was that Ben Lamer’s dad had a heart attack and died at the top of Glacier Peak. The story was that you loved me very, very much, and that you would never leave me no matter what.
Tell me about the day you met my father. What was it about him that caught your attention, besides being your charismatic, handsome teacher? Did you know he was a womanizer, but chose not to see it?
Tell me about the day you finally spoke to him. What did you say? Was it awkward, or something intelligent? Did he appreciate you then, before he learned to take your love for granted?
Tell me about the day he convinced you that you were special. Did you believe him? Did you think you could change him?
Please don’t tell me about the first time you made love. I rather not know.
Tell me about the day you decided to leave your husband for my father. How did he take it? Did you break his heart? Did you ever regret it? Was he kinder to you than my father?
Tell me again about the day you found out that you were pregnant. Were you happy, or sad? Frightened? Did you want me more than you wanted my father, or did you want us both, in equal measure?
Tell me about the day you showed up at my father’s house with a small suitcase and asked my grandmother to take you in. Where did you go when she refused?
Tell me about the day you told my grandparents that you were pregnant with me, and the father wasn’t your husband, but your university professor? Did they shame you, or accepted you? When did they agree to help you?
Tell me again about the day of your wedding at Budapest’s castle district. Who were the two witnesses, and why didn’t you want to have a party? Did you know already that the marriage wouldn’t last? When did you know for certain that the marriage wouldn’t last?
Tell me again about the day I was born, a month prematurely, a day after your wedding, on a Sunday morning? Were you happy to meet me? Was I good to you? Did you ever love me?
Please tell me, was I worth the trouble?