When I was little, my beloved Nana had a silver Christmas tree. It was as big as the whole room and there were pink-bulb ornaments and Santa-faced ornaments and I loved that tree. It was a dream. There were promises tied up in it. When it came out of the box and the lights went on and you turned out all the ceiling lights, you couldn’t help but gasp. The whole room twinkled.
What memory do you have, that may be a little different? Is it your grandmother, cigarette smoke a wreath around her head, sitting in a darkened room, smoking? Does she have a cold beer in her hand? When she laughs, does she mean it?
How can you change your memory, or the feeling of your memory and put it into fiction? Can you write an essay? Can you make someone your children never knew, live? Can you almost touch the image you create?
That is your writing exercise today. Write about someone, without being sappy, and make them breathe.