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Hey hey hey! Are you enjoying your winter break? Or were you brought to our blog out of a desperation for entertainment? Either way, at a Spectrum meeting several weeks ago, we had a creative prompt with only one rule: The piece must include the lovely words you see in the title of this post. … Continue reading “California, Frog, Dangerous, Pineapples, Bunnies…”

Yeah, I know, I procrastinated this post just like you procrastinated your homework over the weekend (thank goodness we have Veterans’ Day off, am I right?). Last Monday night, Spectrum members completed an activity in honor of the famous/infamous NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). They all either created a summary, blurbs, and/or cover art for … Continue reading “In Honor of NaNoWriMo, Spectrum Dreams Up Potential Novels”

Woohoo! FRIDAY BEFORE A LONG WEEKEND YEAH! I know you’ve been anxiously awaiting this blog post, highlighting our writing/art prompt from our Spectrum meeting this past Monday, October 6th. The prompt was: On this day (October 6th) in 1723, Benjamin Franklin arrived in Philadelphia at the age of 17. Paint a portrait of a teenage … Continue reading “Spectrum Speculates: What was Benjamin Franklin Like As a Teenager?”

Whoa. Did you see that tumbleweed go by? Yeah, this “blog,” isn’t much of a blog right now. A real fixer-upper, I’d say. To remedy that, we at Spectrum came up with an idea. Each week, we’re going to post works created where the magic happens–during Spectrum meetings. Every Monday night, Spectrum meets, and along … Continue reading “Bringing the Blog Back: Featuring Works from the Sept. 29 Meeting”

Nobody liked Ramona. I’m not 100% sure why. It could have been her frizzy hair, the way her nose was always slick with oil, or the way she spit when she talked. We had tried to get rid of her in our group. Ignored her. “Forgot” to invite her places, and even made snide remarks … Continue reading “Hangnail by Aylish O’Sullivan”

Her home is a sinkhole. Things go in but never come out. It, like her life, kind of just collapsed in on itself. Those childhood china dolls she found, orphans dumped in an alleyway, they went in, never against to have the sunlight gleam against their glassy, empty eyes. The boxes of her memories are … Continue reading “Sinkhole”