The summer reading program at the library was about the ocean this year. This year one of the activities was to write a beach story.
Although the program is mostly for the younger set, some of the activities include us older people. Writing a beach story was one and a picture involving water is another.
Dangling a writing prompt in front of a writer begs for a response. I tried to ignore it. I was going hiking to photograph flowers, not plan out a story.
Walking is a good excuse for my mind to wander. After all, I grew up in southern California and spent lots of time at the ocean. There are so many memories.
At El Capitan State Beach one fall I found a mermaid’s purse. It was rectangular with the look and feel of a piece of kelp. Mermaid’s purses are eggs laid by a shark or ray. My tenth-grade science teacher set it up in a tank and it hatched into a six-inch swell shark a few months later.
There were two students I helped with snorkeling as part of their science project.
On yet another visit, the sand was covered with butterfly clams. These are wedge-shaped clams up to an inch long with lots of color patterns.
I’m not interested in doing memoirs. The memories were only to provide a stepping stone into a story. None of them seemed to work until another adventure came to mind.
Not all beaches have sand or rocks. I had visited two mud beaches. When the tide is in, there is a bay small boats can cross. When the tide is out, a vast expanse of mud is revealed. Under the mud live clams.
And I had my stepping stone to a beach story.
People often ask where a writer gets their ideas. Memories are one place, memories long forgotten until a writing prompt brings them back.
My beach story along with others will be posted on the Salem Public Library page. This is the Salem, Missouri, library.
Time to write is another factor. Read more in this post.
