Category Archives: Creative Nonfiction Tweets

In January I started writing “tiny truths” via Twitter. Here’s what I came up with during the month of February:

February 3: We perform the same dance every morning: We tiptoe through the empty lot, she searches for a perfect spot & I remove the evidence.

February 14: We sat in the psychiatrists’ waiting room, aware of our common brokenness and shared desire to be more of our full selves.

February 15: He tries to conceal his pain with words, but his eyes tell a story of loneliness and regret. She chooses to look the other way.

February 18: We saw three men digging a grave at the cemetery by Target. My children asked new questions while I silently prayed for answers.

February 18: My daughter breathes in the aroma of the rosemary white bean soup and says, “I wish you were the type that bakes cupcakes.” 

February 24: The loads of colors and whites are piled high–a testimony of neglect. It’s easy to ignore our own dirty laundry. 

One of my goals for 2012 is to write more, and one way I’ve done that this month is to tweet a few very short true stories using Creative Nonfiction’s hashtag #cnftweet. Here are the submission guidelines from creativenonfiction.org in case you want to join in the fun:

CONTEST: Tiny Truths: CNF’s Daily Twitter Contest

accepted year-round

Can you tell a true story in 130 characters (or fewer)? Think you could write one hundred CNF-worthy micro essays a day? Go for it. We dare you. There’s no limit. Simply follow Creative Nonfiction on Twitter and tag your tiny truths with the trending topic #cnftweet. That’s it.

We re-tweet winners daily and republish 10-12 winning tweets in every issue of Creative Nonfiction.

Not sure what we’re looking for? Check out all of our past “Favorites”.

And here are my January #cnftweets:

Six months later she realized it had to be broken before it could be fixed.

Terrified, she withdraws to a safe place. Harmony, melody, rhythm. The music doesn’t lie. 

I learned of his June death on an August morning. Two months too late, I grieved alone while my kids ate Cheetos for breakfast.

A parenting article. A Facebook status. It doesn’t take much to kick off a comparison game. I shrug & decide to sit this one out.