a case of newness & a writing prompt

Prepping for the new semester always brings thoughts of newness: new readings, new prompts, new ways to approach things. This newness has been a theme of late.

Like how recently I had to replace my phone case. The broken one had served me a few years.

The broken one had a cartoon duck slumped across a counter with loose papers, coffee, and a napkin with cartoon s*** for company. Over the whole scene hung the words: “I’m sick of everything.”

This statement is, as they say, a vibe.

Me too, buddy. Me too.

But having life lifing at me as it has, I took in the image of this exhausted and exploited creature and wondered: why am I glamorizing that?

I mean, I’m not. It’s funny. Until it’s not. And it hasn’t been for a bit. Or rather, why have I carried this symbol so intimately in my hand for so long?

The replacement was a phone case with purple and pink clouds on it.

The clouds are rendered in such a way as to make it seem like they could be parting or coming together to storm.

Either way, the change is beautiful.

So, things remain cloudy?!? That tracks.

Writing Prompt: The astrology podcast I follow spoke recently of the start of Virgo season and how it comes with a renewed focus on the day to day, on daily routine and maintenance, things that get overlooked over time and which need to be revisited in order for our relationship with them to evolve (which if you follow the logic here means that they help us evolve, no?).

Similarly, what signs, symbols, words, etc. in your daily life have you not taken in and given attention to in a while? What do they point to that needs a “refresh,” so to speak? What does giving these things attention open up for their significance in your life?

Use this mix of concrete and abstract materials to write a poem that explores how a poem can be a space of reconnecting with what would otherwise pass us by.

Let me know in the comments if you tried the prompt and how it went.

Happy writing!

= José =

the “I Remember” writing prompt

One of the influential writers on both Ruin & Want and my upcoming craft class Rumination as Route is Joe Brainard, specifically his book I Remember. The first draft of what became Ruin was a series of statements each starting with “I remember” using the formal choice as a way into material.

At the time, I was fascinated with the idea of book as reading experience. The challenge of Brainard’s book, of essentially creating a nonlinear autobiography, felt important. As someone who needed to name what I could not yet explain, I dove into memories simply naming what I found at first. Naming and cataloging became survival and foundation.

From these fragments and specifics, I then moved into “I wanted…” phrasing using desire as a way to enter deeper emotional truths. This opened new narrative paths: wants born from trauma, queerness, poverty, belonging. I went from cataloging to exploring memories from different perspectives.

This week, I’d like to share the following prompt:

  • First, write 7-10 lines beginning with either “I remember…” or “I wanted to…” (if you’re really feeling it, you can go up to 20).
  • Then, choose one and follow where it leads. You can choose the most surprising one, or the most obscure one. Trust your intuition. Then ask: What happened before? After? Around it?

Don’t be afraid of monotony in the first step. In fact, invite it in (seriously, try 20). Writing into this prompt quickly becomes a matter of rhythm. Rhythm is the body and intuition here, the inner maps we spend our lives reclaiming.

This is one of the prompts we’ll play with in Rumination as Route, a generative nonfiction class exploring nonlinear personal essays. If repetition and reflection are part of your writing process, you’re not alone, and you’re not doing it wrong.


Rumination as Route: Crafting Non-Linear Personal Narratives

Date & Time: Sunday June 1, 2025 @3-5pm EST
Where: Online (Zoom)
Cost: $60
Register here: https://thenotebookscollective.com/event/rumination-as-route/

Hope to see you there!

= José =