A group of writers Meets at Mesa Senior Center
247 North Macdonald Street
480-962-5612
on Fridays from 9:30 A.M. till 11:00 A.M.
A monthly writing challenge: This is a great opportunity to try new things and push yourself as a writer. Each month, we will give you a prompt to write about. You can submit your work to the group for feedback or write for yourself.
A weekly critique group: This is a chance to get feedback on your work from other writers. We will meet once a week to discuss our work and give each other feedback.
Do some research if you're stuck on a particular scene or plot. See if you can learn anything that will help you move forward.
Below is a list of locations and Characters for a story. Use them to write a story.
Mesa Writers
State | Name | Population |
---|---|---|
California | Pomona | 146,017 |
New York | Riverhead | 35,723 |
Minnesota | St. Petersburg | 261,000 |
Delaware | Baton Rouge | 221,000 |
New Hampshire | Evansville | 112,000 |
People
First Name | Last Name | Sex | Age | Occupation |
---|---|---|---|---|
Callie | Ward | Female | 27 | Pharmacy Aides |
Opal | Richardson | Female | 48 | School Bus Monitor |
Madelyn | Jordan | Female | 32 | Respiratory Therapists |
Kinsley | Abbott | Female | 27 | Kindergarten Teacher |
Ruby | Bradford | Female | 33 | Veterinarian |
Sophi | Lawson | Female | 52 | Radiologist |
First Name | Last Name | Sex | Age | Occupation |
---|---|---|---|---|
Boris | Morales | Male | 50 | Butcher-Meat Cutter |
Dwayne | Colson | Male | 44 | Septic Tank Service |
Fraser | Davis | Male | 38 | Surveyor |
Jarod | Lee | Male | 26 | Wellhead Pumper |
Kyle | Rivera | Male | 48 | Purchasing Manager |
Melvin | Kim | Male | 54 | Firefighter |
Below is a story that used the above prompts. You may finish the story. Or write your own.
Write a poem about the beauty of nature.
Write a travel guide for your favorite city.
Books to help with writing
Help with writing
This book came about because during a five-year stint in Uganda, East Africa, from 1967-1972, I wrote letters home on a regular basis, making onion skin copieson an old Selectric typewriter. I sent them to friends and family who saved them, and upon my return the pressure came to write a book. This book contains almost a day-by-day account of the preparations for a family of five, including three young boys, ages one-and-a-half, five and six, to relocate to a developing country with a murky past, and perhaps a dangerous future.
In the spring of 1979, one child was found dead and another child disappeared. The next day, a nuclear power plant accident at the nearby Three Mile Island facility adds to the stress put on the Middletown police department.
A missing mother. A dead dance instructor. A family with many secrets. The waltz theme threads its way throughout this Christmas mystery. In the second novel of the Missy Jenkins musical mystery series, Missy joins forces with her best friend Ronnie Milner and elderly Wiccan Lorraine Withers to solve the mystery of a missing neighbor.
A wretched recital. Death by chocolate. A fiery car crash. A senator with a shady past. A family with too many secrets. Missy finds herself in the middle of a composition of killing.
Short stories by Sue Flaig of mystery and suspense that show the diversity of the genre as well as the range of the author's imagination and style of writing.
Note to Reader: This book is privately published with less than 20 copys. My fitire projects wil be available to the public.
by Rick Jackson
It looks like I stand here all day, doing nothing alone.
But as I look over the valley and see the pine and aspen trees on the next hill, they talk to each other. When a storm comes up, they lock branches, helping to hold each other up.
I stand here alone. The wind blows as if trying to pull off my limbs. Then, the rain and lightning. That scares me. I wonder when one bolt will strike me, sending an electrical shock through my limbs.
Once in a while, some birds come by and land on my limbs, talking and chattering. I even get some kids; they climb and jump on my limbs, trying to break them.
Then one day a couple came by and sat down leaning against my trunk. Talking about their lives. They came by every week. I looked forward to them coming by.
One day, they came by, and the man took out a knife, cutting my trunk. The pain shot through all my limbs and into my leaves. Why did he do this? Then they both held hands and rubbed the cut, the pain stopped as they caressed the cut, it felt soothing.
As the years passed on, they came by and rubbed the heart-shaped cut on my trunk. Laughing and talking about their life, and how long ago they cut the heart on my trunk.
Then, one day, the girl came by herself. I looked but could not see the man. He was nowhere in sight. She hugged my trunk, then started to cry, rubbing the cut on my trunk. It felt soothing and refreshing but somewhat painful like the day the cuts were made. It was as if I had lost a part of me.
I can’t help but wonder, where is the man?