After racking my brain for the past couple of days, I’ve decided on my feature. Picture This. Â It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words. Â That being the case, they definitely have stories to tell.
Being a visual person, I often find my muse hanging out in unexpected places: a garden, an abandoned barn, or an alleyway. Capturing those images has become a hobby of mine.  Each Thursday, I’ll share a picture and include a quote, a caption, or background information.  And with any luck, your creative self will be inspired, too.
Today’s assignment: publish a post based on your own, personalized take on a blogging prompt. The prompt I chose is Pens and Pencils.  When was the last time you wrote something substantive — a letter, a story, a journal entry, etc. — by hand? Could you ever imagine returning to a pre-keyboard era?
When we think of courage, we often think of people doing extraordinary things in dangerous situations. While that is certainly true, courage is also daring to follow your dreams, to face your fears and persevere.
Many of us (writers) are introverts by nature. Â We are most comfortable in smaller groups and quite content being alone. Â In fact, alone time isn’t just nice, it’s a necessity. Â We seek out an empty room, sit behind our computer and type our hearts out.
This is where courage comes in. Â Whether we are blogging or working on a novel, we have to release our words, our thoughts, and ideas to the world. Â We are literally exposing our inner-selves. Â That is scary. Â There’s no invisible shield to protect us from the scrutiny of our readers. Â Unfortunately, some of those readers aren’t going to like what we have to say – and that’s okay. What’s important is our reaction. Â We must refuse to be intimidated. Â We must be tenacious. Â Writing is our art. It is the way we express ourselves. Â It is as important as the air we breathe.
In the summer of 1985, Back to the Future was released. Â I loved that movie – still do. So, it’s probably no surprise that I’ve considered the possibilities of time travel. Â And I have to answer the question:
What would I do if a time traveling DeLorean landed in my front yard?
I’d climb in, shut the door and press the gas!
My first stop would be in 1977. Â I’d talk to a much younger me. Â I’d explain that those bumps in the night were products of a very active imagination – something that will serve me well in the future. Â I’d also explain that yes, Darth Vader did look scary, but he would become a favorite character as I grew older.
My next stop would be 1983.
Every Breath You Take by The Police would probably be playing on MTV.  I don’t even want to think about my feathered hair and tight stonewashed jeans.  I’d explain that big changes were about to happen – but I’d be okay.  I’d advise myself to embrace opportunities, to have faith in my abilities – that my teenage dream of writing wasn’t unrealistic.  It’s achievable but only if I have the courage to pursue it.
If you stumbled across a time machine, whenwould be your destination?
Years ago, my husband and I pulled out a map, closed our eyes and randomly placed our fingers on a spot. Â That spot was to be our weekend destination. Â We loaded up our young son and off we went. Â The only stipulations – no interstates and no national food chains. Â This became the best weekend getaway ever!
We took time to stop at road side stands.  We visited a small town that time forgot.  If you can imagine old-time gas pumps and 5¢ candies in glass jars… It was wonderful and nostalgic and so small town America.
Freewill Baptist Church, Sneads Ferry, NC
I love small towns. Â I love driving back roads, looking at old churches, abandoned barns and finding the occasional surprise.
There is something about old things that speak to me. Â I wonder at the stories they would tell, the memories they would share – if they could talk. Â I think back to my grandparents – how hard they had to work to support their families – sharecropping, laboring in the tobacco fields, working in the laundry. Â Well, three of them anyway. One chose to make a living as a bootlegger – only he seemed to drink more than he sold…
One of those little surprises – a boat in the woods
Some people will triumph; others will fail. Â And they leave behind them the ghosts of what was and what might have been. Â I think it’s those ghosts, those wisps of memory, that draw me to by-gone places.
Those aging buildings, those forgotten places, tickle my imagination. Â I see the spirit of a young woman pacing the front porch waiting for her lover to come home. Â I hear the laughter of children as they splash in the shallows of a near by river. Â I smell the perfumed air that announces the arrival of a fairy prince. Â And if I’m lucky, a new character might just introduce herself…
dsmcknight.com 
