From the Bookshelf

September 2025

Dear Writers,

Welcome to the September installment of my series From the Bookshelf, in which I create a prompt based on an excerpt of a book I pull from my shelves. The excerpt is presented without context intentionally. The monthly prompts may be for flash fiction or nonfiction, and they may be inspired by all kinds of books: a travel guide, a book of essays, poems, or fiction, a dictionary, a biography . . .

I love writing prompts, and I hope you have fun with these. They are free for anyone and everyone.

This Month’s Prompt
Mr. Palomar, by Italo Calvino, trans. by William Weaver (New York: Harcourt, Inc., 1985)

I just purchased this wonderful book, and it hasn’t even made it to my bookshelf. I’m fudging the rules a bit, but I couldn’t resist. It’s new and I’ve been waiting to read this. I am deep in novel revisions, and Calvino is one of my inspirations.

And so here I present a passage from a page opened at random:

This is how birds think, or at least this is how Mr. Palomar thinks, imagining himself a bird. “It is only after you come to know the surface of things,” he concludes, “that you can venture to seek what is underneath. But the surface of things is inexhaustible.”

Indeed. This is an appropriate time to pay attention to the surface of things, with the goal of understanding what’s underneath, isn’t it? You can get stuck, however, in the noticing, as Mr. Palomar implies.

The excerpt reminds me of a talk I recently heard by the wonderful Aimee Bender, in which she suggests writers spend time defamiliarizing objects in their environment.  

Let’s do it, then. Let’s get stuck in the noticing. The more you pay attention, the more you pay attention. It’s a muscle that can grow stronger, and it’s the writer’s most essential tool in their toolbox. By looking closely at one object for a sustained period, you are saying This is the only object in my life right now. You are saying This is the most important moment, this present moment of noticing. It’s ridiculous, but it clears the cobwebs.

Do not worry about how this will emerge in your next story. Trust that it will yield rewards.

The prompt: Find an object in your house, the more familiar the better. Your job is to see what you’ve stopped seeing. Set a timer for 10 minutes and write everything you notice about the object. Note its shape, its shadows, colors, lines, etc. If it’s a large object, walk around it. Absorb it completely (even if whoever living with you thinks you’re acting strange.) Do not write anything about the object’s meaning or purpose. Imagine you’re writing a very elaborate alt text. The point is to defamiliarize the object so you can see it fresh.

If you’d like, tomorrow do the same thing with the same object. What is uncovered in the second 10-minute session? How has the light changed? How has your perception changed?

Have fun with this one, and happy noticing,

Cheryl