1. You join in for an in-person writing group.

2. Write with others to shared prompts.

3. Later: you publish your writings online. Put your pieces on Substack or on your blog or on social media.

4. Send us the link and we’ll share it with the wider Speak Up community. (And maybe even re-publish your published work via Speak Up platforms.)

Why the change?

To be less of a gatekeeper!

Speak Up’s publishing mission is to give voice and amplify voices. It has been a privilege to publish hundreds of pieces from people facing homelessness and from all walks of life.

Previously we invited writers to send their unpublished work and we’d share it publicly—if time and the editorial calendar allowed.

For some folks, who may only ever publish a half dozen pieces in their lifetime, distributing it through Speak Up first makes a lot of sense. But for many others who want to have a more consistent voice, more control over their work, and a direct relationship with readers, publishing through Speak Up first (or only) becomes a limiting factor. So let’s try this: you publish your writing groups-authored stuff first wherever you want and then we’ll re-share it.

This also speeds up the process. You publish it quickly and on your terms. No more waiting eons.

It also reduces confusion: we aren’t releasing something you. never wanted released: since you’re the first one clicking publish, it’s already out there for the entire world wide web to see.

She was facing a financial crisis and was hours away from ending up on the streets with her kids.

I first met Qiana in one of the weekly Speak Up writing groups. In the writing groups, people come from diverse backgrounds to pause, notice, and write together. Lots of good things emerge from those times: personal clarity, renewed confidence, durable community, and special friendships.

After our phone call, she sent over a writeup about her situation and a couple photos to help paint the picture.

We posted it Thursday evening.

Friday morning someone re-shared it.

Then a lady saw the shared post and pointed it out to her husband.

He called me and asked for more info.

I put him in touch by text with Qiana.

On Saturday they talked directly.

By Sunday the most urgent part of her need was resolved. Thanks to this generous family, she was able to relocate and now has weeks of housing runway to catch her breath and take good next steps.

The unexpected can happen to anyone. But having community—or access to community—can prevent the unexpected from becoming a catastrophe.

I’m so grateful for that moment two years ago when Qiana first walked into the room and sat down to write. We’ve shared so much together since then!

Speak Up writing groups make community, relationships, and connections possible between people who would never meet otherwise.

Qiana reached out today. She’s facing a financial criss and needs an extra boost.

Her overall need is upward of $1,000, but she’s taking it day-by-day. $65 gets her another night. A bit more gets her a bit more.

Here is what Qiana wrote, in her own hand:

07/09/2026

Hello, Rock Hill community. I’m reaching out because my family is in a difficult time and situation; so, I’m asking for your help.

My two kids, our two dogs and I are currently homeless and staying in a hotel. I’m on disability and have spent my entire check on the hotel. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough to cover our stay from July 10 through July 31st.

I am waiting to hear back on a few apps that I put in for apartments, but I haven’t heard anything as of yet. If you’d like to donate, anything will help us out. Please share this as our need is urgent. We don’t have family or friends here, so we’re on our own. God has kept us here for almost three years, so, I know that this is our new home! We just have to find our footing and get stable. Thank you in advance for your help. God Bless you all.

Two ways to help:

1. Donate to Qiana via GoFundMe

2. Send via Cash App: $YESHUAzChosen

You can also reach Qiana on Substack: @qianacoleman

Please share this post; the need is urgent.

They provide individual invitations. These spaces let people discover and uncover things within. Carving out time to pause and write can help us notice priorities, reclaim what is important. For some it is a brief reprieve from the treadmill of urgency and survival.

They are ripe spaces for creativity. Writing skills are sharpened, individual confidence blooms, non-writers becoming writers, we find our voices.

Writing groups are also communal. They are rare opportunities for connecting in person with others. Without forcing it, we cross invisible dividing lines, overcome isolation, build bridges.

One of the things I’ve been so excited to observe over the last year or so is that the community formed within the bounds of the writing groups often spills out beyond the writing time, connects people, and turns into friendship.

But community is hard. People mixing together is hard. Even living with demographically-alike family members is hard! And the folks that attend Speak Up writing groups are a wildly diverse mix—age, gender, race, politics, faith, physicality, financial status. It started as a program for people facing homelessness but grew into something better: a space for everyone. The public writing groups are a motley mix.

But that non-homogenous dynamism only works if there are clear points of alignment, focus, and safety.

It isn’t a wild west free-for-all. There have to be guardrails of practice and approach.

Practices

What we do is narrow:

1. Write to shared prompts.

2. Read your writings aloud, if you want.

3. Applaud each reader, but no other feedback.

Implied in this list is an entire universe of things that don’t happen: critiquing the work of fellow writers, arguing about political ideas, offering life advice in response to a writing.

Values

And as we do this, we aim at a few operating values. These are things that we want to aim at and grow toward.

Presence — In a world of distraction, disruption, and hurry, here is an opportunity to pause and choose to be here now. Present for others, present for yourself.

Honor — Each person, no matter what, gets the default benefit of honor. Full respect. A full voice. Full dignity. It doesn’t have to be earned.

Curiosity — In this space, we lay aside our expertise about ourselves, others, and the world. We choose to be students, learners, expecting to discover.

—

It works. But it isn’t easy.

One of the realities I’ve been seeing, now over two years into this model, is that not everyone wants this. Not everyone wants to choose curiosity about others. Or themselves. Not everyone wants to honor those who are different. Many people don’t want to settle down, disconnect from the firehose, and be present.

That’s just fine. Not everything is for everyone.

But for those who say yes to this approach: it’s a beautiful thing!

Write Together, Bridge Divides

In Speak Up writing groups, people come together across so-called impassable chasms—homeless versus non-homeless, this race versus that race, left versus right, my way versus your way—and do the deeply human work of creating, writing, sharing together.

More About Speak Up

Speak Up is a 501(c)(3) Public Charity that gives voice to the voiceless and brings people together across cultural and social divides.

Since launch in 2011, we’ve published ninety homeless-authored issues of a print magazine, launched an innovative approach to street outreach (Pursuit Packs), and found our core model of bridge-building writing groups.

About Speak Up

Weekly Writing Prompts

We write in response to these prompts in our local writing groups. Check out the latest prompts. New ones released weekly.

Writing Prompts

From the Writing Groups

We write to shared prompts. Some people optionally read their work aloud. Everyone applauds. We write more. Read some of the work from those gatherings.

From the Writing Groups

Street Writers / Homeless Magazine Archive

Read some of the hundreds of essays, stories, and experiences from many dozens of writers about the homeless experience.

Street Writers

By Scott Morgan

Prompt: Write about something you believed but have changed your mind about.

You’d think I’d remember the day my certainty died. I only remember the foreshock. The night I came down the stairs and said, I think my marriage is over.

We were done, and that was fine. I don’t miss her and I never did.

But I do miss the certainty.

A year before I had that conversation, I was just so sure. Of everything. The arrogance of dying youth, perhaps. The naïveté of someone who’s convinced himself he knows things.

He doesn’t believe. He knows.

Well.

Somewhere in the subsequent two years, my worldview collapsed because my certainty died. And it was a death.

Certainty is such a cozy blanket on top of such a comfy bed. It gives you license to indulge in safe routines. To lose it feels like a nuclear bomb. The aftermath is gray and endless.

Until you consider that you might not be facing a blank void, but a blank page.

I recently read the novel and saw the movie Conclave (Robert Harris). In both, the character of Cardinal Lomeli (Lawrence in the movie) speaks about the sin he’s most come to fear: certainty.

I wasn’t expecting to be brought up out of my chair by a fictional monologue. And yet here I was, leaning forward, eyebrows properly twitched and eager.

Certainty, his eminence argues, is the death of curiosity. Compassion. Tolerance. The Church’s strength lies in its diversity and in its doubt — without which, the cardinal offers, there would be no need for faith.

Church or not, faith takes courage. Faith is vulnerable, because it’s such a gamble. It doesn’t always pay off. And while faith does walk hand-in-hand with doubt, the other hand walks with hope. Certainty isn’t anywhere to be found.

All of which makes me sound very sure of myself. But I’m only sure that I have no idea what I know. Faith has replaced certainty, and it’s better over here.

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→ Donate here. Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

By Scott Morgan

Prompt: Define what “cosplaying life” — not like at Halloween, or a Ren Faire, like when someone dresses as a character — means to you.

I don’t cosplay poverty because despite that the electric company would occasionally shut off the power for unpaid bills,

— despite that half of the clothes I wore as a kid were 15 years out of style,

— despite that dinner was often leftovers for lunch at the school where my dad worked,

— despite that I thought going out to a restaurant with my parents was a bona fide vacation,

— despite getting into fights in school over my K-mart knock off sneakers that I had to wear until the holes wore through,

— despite that mom would furnish the house with goods paid for on Layaway,

— despite all that, I never really went unsheltered, unclothed, or unfed.

I might have worn rags, but I wore. I might have eaten crap, but I ate. I might have grown up in Trenton, NJ, but I could close my door, and I survived.

And despite not trying to cosplay poverty for some bullsh*t street crud, it bothers me when someone of means tries to relate to people who’ve really had it rough.

I don’t know how it is these days to need to take a bus to shop for food, just because I did that for a news story.

I didn’t write that story. That would be disrespectful. It’s not my lived experience, it’s my role play. I could stop the simulation anytime I wanted to.

A friend who grew up wealthy — not rich — wealthy, had a father who’d grown up on actual dirt floors.

He was a Cardinals fan because seeing cardinals every spring meant hunting, and he could eat again.

He would occasionally shut off the power to teach his kid — my friend — that everything could go away at any time.

My friend told me this as if she understood the real power shutting off and not being sure when it would come back on.

Recently, I read an “experience piece” by someone who’d spent the night in a shelter.

I imagine it’s a noble goal, but being well-intentioned and being intentional about solutions should not be confused as the same thing.

Empathy has an ugly side-effect, which is the creation of ingroups, and, by extension, the creation of them.

And yet how do we love without empathy?

Life is complicated.

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Sustain and plant life-changing writing communities that give a voice and bring people together across cultural, social, and economic divides.

→ Donate here. Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

By Scott Morgan

Prompt: In what areas have you grown by attending this writing workshop?

I’ve learned that I like people a whole lot more than I had believed.

That it’s okay to sit in a room with strangers and become a not stranger.

I’ve made actual friends.

It’s getting to have your trust. The things some fellows have shared have really landed. And you took a shot and opened up and let it out, and it’s reminded me that people aren’t always to be wary of, to hide from.

My first five years in Rock Hill, I made a few friends who weren’t. The subsequent year and a half have been shaped by being in this room, with real people.

It helps me trust.

It’s helped me open up to others — and it’s been working out well.

This workshop gives me something to look forward to. A reset. I didn’t know how much I’d needed that.

It’s taught me about how quickly life can change in good ways.

And it reminds me how much I love and how much I miss the library where it all started.

I’m not the type to take others’ praise or admonishments to heart, but I feel utterly un-judged here.

Here, I’ve come to trust, because I’m not that radio guy to you. Most of you don’t even know my first name.

Certainly not my last name.

You just know a guy in the writing group.

❤️ Support Speak Up. Sustain and plant life-changing writing communities that give a voice and bring people together across cultural, social, and economic divides.

→ Donate here. Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

I love the word mystery!

It implies things needed to be uncovered and discovered.

Once a mystery is solved, there is always another!

There are endless clues to lost treasures and stories untold.

Following a path to collect,

all the pieces,

brings about curiosity and grit.

Being courageous enough to brave the oceans and depths,

of where the mystery leads you

feels fantastically exciting and without regret.

Trace the lines and connect the dots,

to all the uncertain parts

and eventually they will come together,

to create a story or maybe piece of art.

The mystery, the secrets, and hidden things

are the adventures where everyone wins.

We read about them in books-

We watch them in movies and TV-

We hear them in lyrics and songs that we sing-

How can all of these people be wrong?

What is the mystery to solve about love?

Where are the hidden things that will help us?

Who has the key to unlock secrets and open up?

I suppose that is why,

it is a mystery, a secret, or a hidden thing,

All the questions can make your head spin!

Judge a book by its cover -

And you will never know what is inside.

Endless emotions, a myriad of stories,

Traumas and joys, experienced and contrived.

So what is there to hide-

In a mystery or a secret,

Just a puzzle to solve-

Because we are all curious on the inside.

Lovers of nature and prose,

Appreciating sunlight and rain,

Is there a mystery in a rainbow?

Becoming endless supports of our

own domain!

Aren’t we each our own mystery-

Carrying a secret or possessing a hidden thing?

Why not have fun and try to solve the darn thing!

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→ Donate here. Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

I read it three times, trying to discern the difference or the similarity. Looking for clarity and a concrete example that my mind could make sense of.

Weirdly, it resonated more with a sensation in my chest, one of warmth and tingling. As if they are one and the same, two sides of the same coin, each with a slightly different perspective.

I continue to read the words and they get jumbled like a tongue twister, causing me to giggle out loud!

Am I abnormally normal or normally abnormal? I struggle to decipher it.

At the same time it feels as if there is a finger pointing at me and a quiet voice in the shadows whispering, “this is you, don’t you see it?”

I think I do sometimes, but do they see it too? Do I want them to see this, to know that I am abnormally normal and normally abnormal?

Now I have said it and written it three times! Is it like Beetlejuice or Voldemort?

I am leaning towards normally abnormal. Normal feels regular and I don’t feel regular so it seems to make more sense! To me? To whom? To you? To them? Today? Tomorrow?

Ok how about this:

Normally abnormal- is normal on the outside and abnormal on the inside.

Abnormally normal- is abnormal on the outside and normal on the inside.

This makes me feel like I am in a Shel Silverstein poem, which I adored as a child.

Tongue twisters, rhymes, funny and not funny-

A b n o r m a l l y n o r m a l

N o r m a l l y a b n o r m a l

Nonsensical and silly. Does it matter which way I go or choose?

Take a break and try another day! Who’s to say?

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My invisible backpack carries all the memories of the past and dreams of the future.

It holds the growth that is not linear but almost maddening. There are secret pockets on the inside, full of sunshine and quiet moments too.

The outside design, I imagine to be a pattern similar to a patchwork quilt, mismatched fabrics that are bright and colorful, and seamlessly belong together.

Packed in tightly around the metaphors of emotions and heartfelt inspirations, are my journals and sketchbooks. Photographs of my children and dogs sit next to my collections of rocks and crystals. And close to the top, are small bags filled with pencils, markers, and paints.

I feel most excited about the fun stuff! I wish to offload some of the heaviness, even if it is just a little to make more space for creativity and new collections.

I dream that my backpack would be large enough to house my favorite books, poems, and movies!

In the side pockets there are treats tucked in safely for a rainy day. Among them would be chocolate candy, cinnamon gum, my favorite protein bars, and something salty and crunchy!

When I take the time to take inventory, I pause and feel gratitude for all of it. Taking a moment to release the things that I no longer need, letting them go with grace and love.

Sliding down in my comfy space I reach for the journal and my favorite pen to write some thoughtful words and a pencil to sketch the emotions. Here I notice the softness in my heart and the smile on my face.

My backpack is not just a holder of things that are special to me, it is the metaphor for all that I carry with me, past, present, and future. All the pieces that create me like the design on the outside, maybe mismatched and imperfect, but perfectly me.

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VALENTINE’S DAY

Valentine’s Day is my favorite holiday. A celebration of love. I love myself, my family, my friends, my Jesus. I love macarons, medium-rare steak, sunshine, singing birds, epiphanies, a good beat, a great hair day, and picnics in the park. Love is in the air!

COLOR

Dear Lilac... I love you so. A close cousin to lavender, a descendant of purple. I love that you serve baddie when paired with black and pretty girl when paired with mint and mauve. Lilac... a light royal color. Inviting and inspiring.

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Prompt: Write about a memory anchored in a smell.

Memories are funny, especially when a simple smell like fresh cut grass or baking apples can evoke a time long forgotten in the back of your mind.

One smell that brings me back is damp earth. It seems so normal but it’s not just damp earth. It’s that mixed with the smell of camp fuel, brewing coffee and horses somewhere far off in the distance.

It’s mornings waking up at the New York Renaissance Faire. I spent summer weekends there from age 10-16. My sister and brother-in-law owned a popcorn company and I worked all different odd jobs at the faires. It ran from July to Labor Day weekend, but it was up in the New York mountains and nights got cold in August.

Waking up, bundled in sleeping bags and blankets, hoping you weren’t the first one awake so the fire would already be going.

Seeking out the smell of coffee, knowing that meant there would be water boiled for hot chocolate.

Hearing people singing off in the distance, children laughing as they ran up and down the field near our campsite.

Bacon would sizzle and pop outside the tents while my sister would knock on my tent pole.

“Time to wake up, sleepyhead.”

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→ Donate here. Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

Prompt: Write about fruit.

Prompt: What has been heavy on your heart lately?

Apples, oranges, raspberries, and blackberries.

That is all the current fruit in my house right now. Today.

Tomorrow there will be less of each. Come Friday there probably won’t be much left.

After Friday…

The government is closed. I’ve used all my EBT benefits to stock up on things to get us through as long as we can.

Fresh fruit won’t be on the list when the food starts to run out. Ramen. Spaghetti and PB & J will replace them as cheap alternatives.

I’m scared. For my family, for yours.

Elderly and children will starve. People will die. Children will be removed from their homes because their parents can’t provide for them.

We need help. We need change.

We need fruit.

❤️ Support Speak Up. Sustain and plant life-changing writing communities that give a voice and bring people together across cultural, social, and economic divides.

→ Donate here. Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

FAVORITE FOODS

Favorite foods?

There’s a meal I like with sour cream and soft shell.

Happy Tuesday! Tuesdays used to be the day to cook them and still is for some families.

Salt, pepper, garlic powder, chili powder, beef, olive oil, tomato paste.

I love the real Mexican tacos or burritos. Taco Tuesday. Taco Friday.

Happy tacos. Happy burritos. Yay, yay, yes, yes!

CHOICE

There’s a Mark Twain quote that’s a reminder of self-reflection, thought, accountability, and self-examination.

Be accountable for your ups and downs in life.

You have a choice to make.

Up or down. :)

IN ONE YEAR

One year from now I hope to keep climbing the ladder of great life travel experiences.

Going places and doing things I’ve never done. Being able to do it with a smile or grin on the face.

Continuing to laugh expansively and abundantly with no apologizing. Growing and flowing joyfully.

Never being sad, ashamed, mad, or miserable for what the Most High grants you.

There are no limits with Him at all.

FUNNY WORDS

The word dongle makes me think of Goof Troop and Goofy and Max. Although its meaning is: a small device connected to and used with a laptop or computer.

Argle-bargle comes to my floozy. You can brouhaha your way out of my face Argle-bargle.

Why do these funny words make me think of Disney characters?

Still goofy I know. Don’t call on Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck.

Okay, have a great day.

PRINCIPLES

How do I fit into the problem or solution?

By doing the right thing.

Solution thinking and actions by building with my actions, goals, and behavior.

Having the intentions to solve the problems with solution based actions only.

FAVORITE MOVIE

My favorite movie of all time?

That’s a challenging one for real.

If I have to get spiritual and dig deep down then it’ll have to be based on nature, tribes, family together, with some animals in the wilderness. The principles and morality approved by my heavenly Father.

The only classic movie that comes to my mind is a movie by the name of the Lion King. Although there were some sad moments, it reminded me of Cain and Abel.

Mufasa was a godly man. His brother was the opposite.

Simba, the son of Mufasa, learned to be godly.

It reminded me of Bible history. I’ve had many deep dreams that are like a treasure for me, because I know God revealed it to me.

This dates back to the 90s.

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→ Donate here. Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

SUPERMAN

As a kid my cousin and I would always play Superman. We thought we were Superman.

He even went out to get a VHS Superman tape of himself. His father paid for it.

But he and I would go back and forth as Superman 1 and Superman 2. He would always get the edge because I’m 5’10” and he’s 6’6” tall.

It was hilarious looking back at it.

Could you imagine multiple Supermans fighting each other or arguing with each other?

That was my six-foot-six cousin and five-foot-ten I.

BASKETBALL

One day when I was a teenager, I was playing a game of basketball. Five on five.

I got picked up to play the game. No one expected me to do anything. But I already practiced and played a lot. Like a hidden gem, a secret talent.

So the guys were talking trash. Acting as if they were better than they were. I kept quiet.

The other team was winning. I decided to play real.

My team started to make a comeback. I was contributing to the team on defense. Steals and blocks!

Then all of a sudden I started making jump shots and lay-ups. My team won and I made the winning game jump shot. My teammates ran and jumped on me celebrating.

It was fun.

PRESENCE

What I brought with me today was the presence of my Father. I talked to Him this morning. I prayed to Him this morning.

I spoke life, protection, grace, mercy, and strength over myself. I reminded myself why my Father is so important.

The One that will never let you down or betray you. The Most High is always the most reliable Spirit and presence to all His children on earth.

He reminded me why I trust Him the most, over any and all humans.

COMMUNICATION

It bothers me when someone tries to be close to me or get close to me without communicating to me about it.

Expecting me to be the one to break my neck, or to keep calling, texting, or chasing you down.

It doesn’t make sense.

You have to communicate well to me if you want to build together, grow together, and experience vacations and fun together.

BIG RED

My favorite fruit on the planet is something red.

As a child I used to call it “big red.” Also “magic red” is something else I would call it.

It’s funny looking back at it. My relatives would be wondering what I was talking about.

“Red Magic.”

“Big Red.”

It’s juicy. Yummy to the taste buds. You could add it to a flavor of juice, squeezing the juice out.

It’s a strawberry. Strawberry, strawberry!

Yummy.

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GRATEFUL

I’ve been taking it one day at a time.

Being reminded to not take anything for granted. Thinking about youth. Thinking about skin. Thinking about bones. Thinking about body.

How to not take those things for granted.

Remembering that those things could be taken away.

Every day is a reminder of my Father above.

SWEETS

If I could bring back some people for dinner, it would be someone that means a lot to me.

Someone that brought me a lot of laughs and smiles. Someone that could cook, bake, and make juice.

She was my favorite. Also she rewarded good behavior by giving you something of your choosing.

Surprise! It is my grandmothers. Both of their nicknames were Joyce and Sweetcake.

Sweetcake was great at baking cakes, brownies, etc. Joyce was great at cooking and baking desserts.

They enjoyed doing it. It was a happy affair when they were around. The aura!

GRANDMA JOYCE

I miss my Grandma Joyce. Because she always carried a high encouraging rich energy.

She could see things that others couldn’t see. She would tell someone about what she saw about them to encourage them. She did the same thing to her grandchildren.

What a blessing she really was.

She was inspiring above and beyond.

She told me to keep my head up always.

ERROR JORDANS

I’m an A+ student so I would love to have a pair of Jordans. The guardian parent says “no.”

The student says, “Why not? I’m an A+ student.”

The guardian says, “Because we said so.”

The student decides to become a thief and tries to steal some Jordan shoes and Jordan material.

He’s caught by a guardian and told, “You are dumb.”

Stealing is dumb, not smart. Don’t be a criminal.

You want Jordans, work for it. Get a job.

HOPING FOR GOOD

What are some things I’m hopeful for?

I’m really hoping for peace, joy, happiness, abundance, and keeping my head up. With the fire and ability to stay encouraged and be inspired.

Not lacking in peace, joy, gladness, and abundance. It requires a lot of meditation and self-examination, meaning you’re going to have to be accountable for your actions.

At the end of the day can you look yourself in the mirror and be content with yourself? With a smile or content stare.

Hopefully you can.

❤️ Support Speak Up. Sustain and plant life-changing writing communities that give a voice and bring people together across cultural, social, and economic divides.

→ Donate here. Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

We are discovering as we write and listen. We’re discovering things about ourselves, about one another, about the power of holding space.

There are deep and weighty topics. We hold our breath as the depths unfold. This is serious and intense!

Until it isn’t. Every week we laugh. A lot. sometimes things get ridiculous, nonsensical word pairings spill forth, silliness abounds.

See below: Prompt #6 is a favorite. Instead of the usual ten minutes, we do that one in three minutes: Write fast. Don’t edit. Don’t check yourselves. Go!

Please join us right now.

Take a prompt or two.

Write freely for 10 minutes.

Then share your piece as a comment on this post.

Today’s Prompts

1. Curly or straight? What do you think of?

2. Invent a superhero.

3. Write about a topic that you have to write about.

4. What unique combination of foods have you discovered to be delectable? Convince us all why we should try it.

5. Name brand items versus store brand items.

6. Write about how to [make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich].

7. You wake up to the sound of missiles falling.

8. Write about ‘verts -- introverts, extroverts, converts, and so on.

Write with Speak Up Weekly

Wednesdays @ The Mercantile — Rock Hill, SC
153 E White St, 2nd Floor

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Including the re-launch the Rock Hill Main Library group on May 5th.

❤️ Support Speak Up.

Sustain and plant life-changing writing communities that give a voice and bring people together across cultural, social, and economic divides.

Give

Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

For ninety minutes, we wrote, listened, and discovered. It’s a simple model: write to shared prompts, hold space for another to read aloud, respond with our applause.

The group that gathered has collectively experienced homelessness, abuse, illness, faced traumatic health issues, struggled recently with depression. We’ve fought for hope, seen soaring opportunities, been thrilled by grace. Much of this came out as we wrote together. Laughter, deep feeling, and a whole lot in between.

Speak Up writing groups are an honest space amidst an insane world of inputs and outputs of split-second opining, social media reactions, fake news, semi-true news, AI slop, of not knowing what to believe or who to trust or where to anchor.

The writing group is a citadel of pause and presence. Purposeful, quiet, real.

To those who gathered last week: thank you. I loved hearing from you and being with you. And to those who are thinking of joining us in a couple days: please come!

❤️ Support Speak Up.

Sustain and plant life-changing writing communities that give a voice and bring people together across cultural, social, and economic divides.

Give

Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.

We write from shared prompts. We read aloud and honor each reader with our attention and applause.

So much happens from this simple model: human creativity is released, a bulwark of quiet presence deepens, learning and growth swell across social and cultural divides, and friendships form.

From the Writing Groups

Excerpted from From Potato Salad to Social Problems by Pauline McCollough

I hope that people agree that eggs should NOT go in potato salad! There are things that may sound like they go well together…

I wish that everyone knew that those who need help aren’t dumb, stupid, or ignorant. We--me being part “those” maybe not in the same but in different ways--know what we need…

I think blindness physically, mentally, spiritually, or emotionally means that you’re not only kept in the dark in those ways, but it’s that you’re not willing, wanting, or scared to try to see…

The fix to any problem starts with listening, hearing, and empathizing to what the person/people with the problem has to say…

Recent Writing Prompts

Share your response in the comments.

• Write about departures, farewells, and missing people.

• Do you like to cook? Write about cooking in your life.

• “They thought I was finished but then…” or “I thought I was finished but then…”

• What is something that happened to you that was not pleasant at the time, but now you can see it as a blessing in disguise?

• Explain why _________ isn’t that great.

• What moves you to tears? (It’s ok if the tears move while you share it.)

• You have a button that gives you a dollar whenever you push it. But it also makes someone somewhere in the world have a 15 minute panic attack. Write about it.

❤️ Support Speak Up.

Sustain and plant life-changing writing communities that give a voice and bring people together across cultural, social, and economic divides.

Give

Speak Up is a 501(c)3 Public Charity. Gifts are tax-deductible.