Plowing Together: When the Snowstorm Comes – PLEASE COMMENT

I live in the Chicagoland area. At about 8 p.m. on Saturday night, it started to snow, and it didn’t stop until sometime in the middle of Sunday night. On Monday, I was snowed in – literally. I couldn’t get out of either my front or back door and my car was buried. I finally made it out at about 4 p.m. My neighbor had to help me open my back gate. And, the snow was so heavy on my car that I felt anxious about it. Years ago, a family friend died shoveling snow and a relative died while cleaning off her car from a heavy snow.

It got me thinking. I see a lot of writing ideas in my experience:

  • children’s articles on snow and winter
  • a children’s story about a snow day
  • a how-to article about dealing with “killer” snow with tips and insights
  • a how-to article about building relationships with neighbors
  • a personal experience piece about dealing with anxiety
  • a devotion about dealing with anxiety

That’s a lot from one experience.

What about you? What was your most memorable snowstorm experience? What writing ideas can you come up with? Please comment. Your insights may inspire others.

Posted on February 3, 2015, in anxiety, emotional health, fiction, inspiration, nonfiction, poetry, relationships, snow, snowstorm, weather, Winter, writer's life, writing, writing ideas, writing prompt and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. There are a couple in particular that stand out in my mind. One year it snowed so much that the snow went up to the edge of the roof on the north side of our house! We couldn’t see out the dining room or kitchen windows for weeks. I don’t remember much else even though I was 12. Winter was a long dreary experience for me. (I feel a memoir piece bubbling and brewing here.) With severe respiratory issues every winter, outside play was out of the question. That is why I became such a bookworm.
    The other memory is of the snow that came the day after my grandfather’s funeral when I was 8. He had passed unexpectedly, so it was a major trauma for us. A friend of my mother’s called her, concerned that the snow was adding to her distress. My mom, however, felt strangely calm; she felt as if God had covered my grandpa’s grave with a blanket. This could be a starting point for a personal memoir, or for a piece on dealing with stressors and triggers during the grieving process.

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