It seems devious to me that DailyPrompt gets daily prompts from their users by having competitions for daily prompts.

Okay. Devious is definitely an overstatement, but the ploy is very clever. Think about it. You have all these writers out there who are submitting pieces to DailyPrompt. They want to win competitions. They like different prompts for different genres. For prose. For poetry. So why not give those writers prompts from their peers? It is very clever.

Oh sure, they give out prizes, but think about all the prompts they get for so few dollars. (Although I am not sure how they make their money for prizes. In fact, I am baffled by their business plan. Not that I know their business plan, but they obviously get their money from somewhere.)

At any rate.

I think it is a brilliant idea to get the very prompts they use on their site from the people who are members of their site. Simply brilliant.

I, for one, like to submit entries to each competition. Every single one. I do not think I have missed one since I subscribed. Which is actually the reason I subscribed. (And no. I do not get anything from DailyPrompt if you subscribe. But I should. I promote them enough.)

At any rate.

I subscribed to DailyPrompt.com for the possibility of winning back my subscription cost. All I needed to do was win a competition or two and I would pay for my lifetime subscription. (Did I mention that I have no idea what their business plan is?) And I did. I won early! But alas, not often. In fact, I have only won one time. Which is okay. I won my subscription cost back. Which is all I really wanted to do. That and write pieces that fit a bunch of different prompts.

Needless to say, I enjoy writing. And whether I am writing for myself and my readers or writing for a daily prompt, I just keep on writing. And I will keep doing so for as long as my mind and body are around. Whether anybody else reads what I am doing or not. Whether anybody else likes what I am doing or not.

Well, I know this is a short post, but it says what I wanted to say. And I am not one to keep writing to add fluff to a piece just because I did not meet my word count quota. Which, by the way, I do not have. A quota, that is.

So devious or not, I think it is great that DailyPrompt uses competitions to get more daily prompts.

We say our prayers and go to bed
Expectant on Christmas Eve
We are waiting for Santa Claus
And all the presents he will leave.
But the reality of Saint Nicholas
Does not matter much at all
For the members of our family
Give each other our all in all.

So as we wait for something special
While we sleep on Christmas Eve
Not really waiting for Santa Claus
And the presents he might leave.
In truth all of our waiting
For the warmth on Christmas morn
Is the celebration that we all will have
Of the day that Christ was born.

[Write a story or poem about needing to wait for something special.
DailyPrompt prompt submitted by Michael T. Miyoshi.]

I know that it is nowhere near Christmas Eve, but I was so excited that one of my prompts I submitted to DailyPrompt.com was used as a prompt that I had to write a poem for the prompt and I had to share it with you.

I recently got a fortune from a fortune cookie that said:

“Follow the trail of inspiration; it leads to greatness.”

Poppycock!

I think that inspiration is great. I think it can lead lots of places. But I also think that we place too much emphasis on inspiration. And when we think that inspiration is the is all to end all, we are in for trouble. Especially, if we are writers.

Now, I am not saying that people should not follow inspiration. They often should. It might even lead to greatness. But many people think that they need to wait to be inspired to do any work. They think that inspiration will strike like lightning and they will automatically be great if they follow that inspiration strike. The problem with this mentality is that people often wait and wait and wait. It is as if there is no cloud in the sky, but these people are going to wait for the lightning to come. But it rarely comes for those who just wait for it. Just like lightning rarely strikes out of a blue sky.

Personally, I think that inspiration strikes when we are working. When we are doing what we need to do. When we are busy doing anything but waiting. For the work is what inspires us. “What if I did it a different way? What if there was some tool for that? What if…” These questions do not come about when a person waits for inspiration, they come about when a person is working. When a person is doing what he or she is supposed to be doing.

The inspiration lightning strikes more often for those people busy doing what they are supposed to be doing than for those who are waiting. I suppose that is because there are often storm clouds looming. Deadlines and pressure tend to bring those clouds into view. And then, the lightning strikes. From those dark, stormy clouds.

I used to write like that. Waiting for inspiration. In fact, I would mostly write when life got me down. When there was a great loss. Usually death. I sometimes even despaired of writing because inspiration only seemed to strike when a loved one died. I wrote a poem or a song or a remembrance of that loved one. But I wrote it too late. I wrote the odes when my loved ones were not around to hear the words.

Which is why I write nearly every day. Or at least part of why I write on such a schedule. I do not want to wait for death or destruction or calamity to strike before I write. Before I am inspired. I want to write about the mundane as well as the inspirational.

I do think that inspiration is a marvelous thing. I look forward to it happening on those rare or even not so rare occasions. And yes. Sometimes we really ought to follow that inspiration. But we should never wait for inspiration. We should work diligently and inspiration will strike. Sometimes from the most mundane things. Sometimes from a silly fortune cookie.

I would like to write something great someday. Even if it is just one thing.

I do not think that I am alone thinking that I would like to write something great. But I also know that even if somebody does think that something I write is great, greatness is not determined by what people think now. Or even in a few years. It seems that greatness is determined by future generations.

As I think about future generations judging me and my writing, I cannot help but think that if anybody does still read my writing in future generations (and that is a big if), they may not have the context of history. They may not understand what circumstances I am writing in. They might not understand what the human race was going through at the time. Which is understandable. We do not necessarily read books with a historical lens. We cannot determine the social context of stories of olde. We can barely read books in light of our own situations. Or maybe that is just me.

Of course, there is the real possibility that none of my books or writings will survive beyond my time. My Amazon account and my blog publishing services could be turned off as soon as I perish. Which, in all likelihood, is what will happen. So despite what we say about the internet being forever, my writings will probably all pass away when I do.

Which is the ultimate writing judge. Time.

Think about it. There are lots and lots of books and other writing that we will never know about because they have not survived. People do not know about the author striving to be published in the whatever-teenth century. We have never heard of very many people who have put pen to paper. After all, we all have writing out there somewhere. Or at least we did. We did until we burned up our term papers and essays and poems when the class was over. When we needed a little something to start the fire. When we decided that we needed to clean out the attic or closet or wherever we store that writing we have kept for so long.

Which is a bummer.

(Wow. I did not mean to write such a downer blog post.)

I really just meant to say that I would rather be prolific and read by many while I am still around than be considered great after my time. I would rather people see me as a hack but still read my stuff rather than somebody who was ignored in my own time and discovered much later. Of course, the ultimate would be to be adored now and later. But that might be too much to ask. Okay. It is way too much to ask. But still…

Well, that is about it for today’s daydreaming. I will keep writing whether anybody reads. And maybe, just maybe, I can write something someday that somebody will think is great.

The burden that we all must bear
Is not an onus that should own us
Indeed the burden that we bear
In this life should be a bonus.

For the burden that we all share
Is that God’s image we do bear
And for each other we should care
We should love each other if we dare.

Instead we think we are not free
If we step into the Christian yoke
But when we surrender all to Thee
We end up free like Jesus spoke.

The freedom that we all can share
Lies in the burden that we bear
Because for each other we must care
Because God’s image each of us bear.

[‘The Weight I Never Chose’
Write a poem that could use this as its title or main theme. Explore a burden you didn’t ask for, but learned to carry.
DailyPrompt prompt submitted by Poet.]