Grab Bag Writing Challenge - March 2020
- achieve - dream - essence - eye - fixate - goal - learn - mindset - motivate - objective - obsess - pinpoint - prize - steps - target -
by February Fortescue
I can't really pinpoint the exact moment was when my obsession began and I started to fixate upon a particular object. My eyes had been wandering about the room when I spotted the much desired object. I still had not learned my lesson the last time I had attempted to possess such a prize and I nearly lost my fingers in the process, but I was highly motivated and determined to not be thwarted in my attempt.
All of my senses were awakened and I never felt more alive as I considered the various methods I could use to achieve my dream. The sunlight was setting and its last rays were pouring in through the tall glass windows. The colors of the room were never so aglow in such warmth, and the scents penetrating my nostrils were so soothing and welcoming! The chatter surrounding me was at a constant roar, which pleased me because I wanted everyone around me to be distracted. This was of the utmost importance if I were to reach my objective!
Okay, since I had the correct mindset, now I needed to work out the steps. Last year, I aimed Accio at my target, but a student sitting next to me slapped my fingers and told me how very rude it was to use Accio at the table! THAT was uncalled for, if you ask me! I lost out on my goal. I considered throwing my used fork towards the desired goodie, but I knew that choice would probably get me into some serious trouble! I then noticed someone staring at the confection of my dreams, and I knew I had to act now, because time was of the essence! But what can I do? I decided to take a chance.
“Emily, would you mind passing me that last remaining piece of lemon meringue pie? Thank you!”
A worthy goal achieved! If only I could motivate myself to do some homework.
I can't really pinpoint the exact moment was when my obsession began and I started to fixate upon a particular object. My eyes had been wandering about the room when I spotted the much desired object. I still had not learned my lesson the last time I had attempted to possess such a prize and I nearly lost my fingers in the process, but I was highly motivated and determined to not be thwarted in my attempt.
All of my senses were awakened and I never felt more alive as I considered the various methods I could use to achieve my dream. The sunlight was setting and its last rays were pouring in through the tall glass windows. The colors of the room were never so aglow in such warmth, and the scents penetrating my nostrils were so soothing and welcoming! The chatter surrounding me was at a constant roar, which pleased me because I wanted everyone around me to be distracted. This was of the utmost importance if I were to reach my objective!
Okay, since I had the correct mindset, now I needed to work out the steps. Last year, I aimed Accio at my target, but a student sitting next to me slapped my fingers and told me how very rude it was to use Accio at the table! THAT was uncalled for, if you ask me! I lost out on my goal. I considered throwing my used fork towards the desired goodie, but I knew that choice would probably get me into some serious trouble! I then noticed someone staring at the confection of my dreams, and I knew I had to act now, because time was of the essence! But what can I do? I decided to take a chance.
“Emily, would you mind passing me that last remaining piece of lemon meringue pie? Thank you!”
A worthy goal achieved! If only I could motivate myself to do some homework.
by Iverian Gnash
My dream of joining the Ministry of Magic as an Auror was something I’d fixated on from a young age. It was my goal – my life’s objective. I can’t pinpoint an exact moment when I decided I wanted to pursue a career as an Auror, but it’s always been there in my subconscious. The steps I’d taken so far to achieve this dream were a bit hard to fathom – I’d maintained the highest grades possible, only once ever falling below a grade of Acceptable. When I struggled in Divination, even after being told I had the eye for it, I worked tirelessly on improving. When I felt as though there was no way I could learn a charm in Year Six, I’d worked with a student until we performed it better than any of our classmates.
When I finally graduated with all O’s on my N.E.W.T.'s, save for one E, I was ready to finally reach my target, so I sent in an application to the Auror Department, complete with a resume showing my hardworking mindset and how being an Auror had been a goal of mine that had motivated me for a while. After submitting my application, the wait was almost unbearable. It took over a month for my prized letter to arrive.
The owl deposited the letter on my kitchen table and flew off. After being obsessed with it for so long, I couldn’t believe I finally had a response to my application. I flew to the table and ripped open the envelope. A long, silver letter dropped out. I picked it up and began to read.
“Upon receiving your application – the essence of which was truly remarkable – you have been accepted and will begin training as soon as we receive your response.” Following this statement was a long list of rules I must adhere to and where the training would be held.
Finally, a dream I had worked so hard to accomplish was becoming reality.
My dream of joining the Ministry of Magic as an Auror was something I’d fixated on from a young age. It was my goal – my life’s objective. I can’t pinpoint an exact moment when I decided I wanted to pursue a career as an Auror, but it’s always been there in my subconscious. The steps I’d taken so far to achieve this dream were a bit hard to fathom – I’d maintained the highest grades possible, only once ever falling below a grade of Acceptable. When I struggled in Divination, even after being told I had the eye for it, I worked tirelessly on improving. When I felt as though there was no way I could learn a charm in Year Six, I’d worked with a student until we performed it better than any of our classmates.
When I finally graduated with all O’s on my N.E.W.T.'s, save for one E, I was ready to finally reach my target, so I sent in an application to the Auror Department, complete with a resume showing my hardworking mindset and how being an Auror had been a goal of mine that had motivated me for a while. After submitting my application, the wait was almost unbearable. It took over a month for my prized letter to arrive.
The owl deposited the letter on my kitchen table and flew off. After being obsessed with it for so long, I couldn’t believe I finally had a response to my application. I flew to the table and ripped open the envelope. A long, silver letter dropped out. I picked it up and began to read.
“Upon receiving your application – the essence of which was truly remarkable – you have been accepted and will begin training as soon as we receive your response.” Following this statement was a long list of rules I must adhere to and where the training would be held.
Finally, a dream I had worked so hard to accomplish was becoming reality.
by Maxim Trevelyan
"Focus on the crystal ball," the professor said as he took slow steps around the classroom. "Challenge your inner eye to perceive things you can’t possibly imagine. Fixate on that white fog and try to gather the essence of the future."
Maxim looked at Gary and rolled his eyes. He turned his back to the professor and started to mime, together with the hand gestures that professor was so fond of using.
"Bring forth a mindset for yourself, pinpoint what you want to achieve in your mind, lock on to your target and," Maxim paused at the same time as the professor, "take that prize for yourself." It was not a hard thing to do, impersonating the Divination professor, since they heard the same speech every time they started on a new form of Divination.
"Mr. Trevelyan!" Maxim and Gary jumped at the loud voice and sudden presence of the professor at their desk.
"If your objective in this class is ridicule rather than actual learning, perhaps your talents would be best suited elsewhere?" the professor spoke coldly.
"I’m sorry, professor," Maxim apologized, red color already dusting his cheeks and nose.
"Perhaps you’d be glad to read your dream journal to the class? I’d love to see what obsessions and goals drive such an…" the professor looked down disdainfully, "unmotivated student such as yourself."
With a sigh, Maxim stood up and obeyed the professor's instructions. He was just glad he made most of the stuff in the journal up or he would have never heard the end of it.
"Focus on the crystal ball," the professor said as he took slow steps around the classroom. "Challenge your inner eye to perceive things you can’t possibly imagine. Fixate on that white fog and try to gather the essence of the future."
Maxim looked at Gary and rolled his eyes. He turned his back to the professor and started to mime, together with the hand gestures that professor was so fond of using.
"Bring forth a mindset for yourself, pinpoint what you want to achieve in your mind, lock on to your target and," Maxim paused at the same time as the professor, "take that prize for yourself." It was not a hard thing to do, impersonating the Divination professor, since they heard the same speech every time they started on a new form of Divination.
"Mr. Trevelyan!" Maxim and Gary jumped at the loud voice and sudden presence of the professor at their desk.
"If your objective in this class is ridicule rather than actual learning, perhaps your talents would be best suited elsewhere?" the professor spoke coldly.
"I’m sorry, professor," Maxim apologized, red color already dusting his cheeks and nose.
"Perhaps you’d be glad to read your dream journal to the class? I’d love to see what obsessions and goals drive such an…" the professor looked down disdainfully, "unmotivated student such as yourself."
With a sigh, Maxim stood up and obeyed the professor's instructions. He was just glad he made most of the stuff in the journal up or he would have never heard the end of it.
by Prof. Tarma Amelia Black
The motivation was there, the dream was vivid, the objective in sight. But, did one have the courage to continue on the chosen path? Following the person with the black boots, M'mith leapt over the iron fence and onto the railing, running lightly across the flat top, his steps precisely placed for balance. Keeping his eye on the prize was sometimes difficult but his mindset was staunch. Large shapes would obscure the shape of his obsession but always he was aware of the essence of it, the scent of it. M'mith had learned that sometimes he might lose track of the goal but to persevere. Keep on target, even if the target was momentarily obscured or even seemed to disappear.
Wait! Danger! A large form, a familiar, large form, came into view. M'mith reluctantly drew into the nearest shadows, relying on the darkness to aid in his blending in with the night. Finally, one who might threaten his achievement of his goal wandered off, chewing on something from the same sidewalk stall upon which M'mith was fixated. A leap onto the ground from his chosen shadow, then a quick flowing of speed across the lantern's splash of light which illuminated the growing shadows of evening, brought M'mith even closer to his prize. He was finally close enough to pinpoint the goal visually …. it wasn't just knowing a general location. He could both scent and see his prize. He leapt!
“Darn that cat, anyway!” the stall owner growled, but in reluctant admiration of the stealth that M'mith displayed.
The customer, who had been startled when the crab croissant he was eyeing had been snagged off the tray by a large black cat, yelped. “What? What?”
“Oh, nevermind” Darth replied, straightening his white apron. “That's just M'mith. He likes to make a point that he's still feral. Did you say that you also like salmon?”
The motivation was there, the dream was vivid, the objective in sight. But, did one have the courage to continue on the chosen path? Following the person with the black boots, M'mith leapt over the iron fence and onto the railing, running lightly across the flat top, his steps precisely placed for balance. Keeping his eye on the prize was sometimes difficult but his mindset was staunch. Large shapes would obscure the shape of his obsession but always he was aware of the essence of it, the scent of it. M'mith had learned that sometimes he might lose track of the goal but to persevere. Keep on target, even if the target was momentarily obscured or even seemed to disappear.
Wait! Danger! A large form, a familiar, large form, came into view. M'mith reluctantly drew into the nearest shadows, relying on the darkness to aid in his blending in with the night. Finally, one who might threaten his achievement of his goal wandered off, chewing on something from the same sidewalk stall upon which M'mith was fixated. A leap onto the ground from his chosen shadow, then a quick flowing of speed across the lantern's splash of light which illuminated the growing shadows of evening, brought M'mith even closer to his prize. He was finally close enough to pinpoint the goal visually …. it wasn't just knowing a general location. He could both scent and see his prize. He leapt!
“Darn that cat, anyway!” the stall owner growled, but in reluctant admiration of the stealth that M'mith displayed.
The customer, who had been startled when the crab croissant he was eyeing had been snagged off the tray by a large black cat, yelped. “What? What?”
“Oh, nevermind” Darth replied, straightening his white apron. “That's just M'mith. He likes to make a point that he's still feral. Did you say that you also like salmon?”
by Sky Alton
"You’re fixating, aren’t you?" I asked as we reached the end of the corridor.
"No!" she said, widening her eyes, as though I’d caught her with her hand in the Ginger Newt tin.
"94% is a great achievement," I told her, crossing my arms.
"You got 96 and Daniel got 98!"
"So?" I frowned, wishing I’d not told her. After seven years of friendship though, I knew she’d never be satisfied until she’d pinpointed her exact ranking on the marks table.
She dropped her gaze and hurried her steps.
"Seriously," I told her more gently, "You need to stop measuring yourself against everyone else. Focus on what you did, rather than shifting the goal posts on yourself last minute."
"Easy for you to say."
"I read something about how it’s healthier to have a growth mindset rather than a fixed one," I told her. "Don’t obsess and decide that one objective that didn’t go quite how you hoped means that you’re a failure."
"Don’t quote jargon at me," she sighed, looking moodily at a cluster of women gossiping in a portrait. I felt a little bad. After all, it 'was' easy for me to say, this time at least.
We walked in silence for a minute or two.
"Do you remember what you were doing the week we were meant to be studying for this test?" I asked her.
"Not working hard enough, obviously."
"You helped that third year with her Quaffle practice, chaired that debate, and worked on that demonstration for Charms Club."
"So?" she asked.
"Daniel and I weren’t doing that, I can guarantee. If you can do all that and still get a 94 on a test, then you have nothing whatever to worry about."
"In essence, what you’re saying is that I should learn to waste less time on other stuff and study more."
"No," I said patiently, "You should recognise that you were doing equally valuable things that week."
"And much comfort that will be to me if I don’t get my target grades at N.E.W.T," she grumbled.
I sighed. Maybe one day she’d recognise her overwhelming motivation to help others as the strength it was. Or maybe there would always be some prize or number for her to focus on that would eclipse everything else and convince her that the stuff she loved was secondary. Maybe that was the way the world worked, however hard dreamers like me wished it otherwise. Did it have to though? Maybe our mind-sets weren’t the only fixed things that could do with a bit of growth.
"You’re fixating, aren’t you?" I asked as we reached the end of the corridor.
"No!" she said, widening her eyes, as though I’d caught her with her hand in the Ginger Newt tin.
"94% is a great achievement," I told her, crossing my arms.
"You got 96 and Daniel got 98!"
"So?" I frowned, wishing I’d not told her. After seven years of friendship though, I knew she’d never be satisfied until she’d pinpointed her exact ranking on the marks table.
She dropped her gaze and hurried her steps.
"Seriously," I told her more gently, "You need to stop measuring yourself against everyone else. Focus on what you did, rather than shifting the goal posts on yourself last minute."
"Easy for you to say."
"I read something about how it’s healthier to have a growth mindset rather than a fixed one," I told her. "Don’t obsess and decide that one objective that didn’t go quite how you hoped means that you’re a failure."
"Don’t quote jargon at me," she sighed, looking moodily at a cluster of women gossiping in a portrait. I felt a little bad. After all, it 'was' easy for me to say, this time at least.
We walked in silence for a minute or two.
"Do you remember what you were doing the week we were meant to be studying for this test?" I asked her.
"Not working hard enough, obviously."
"You helped that third year with her Quaffle practice, chaired that debate, and worked on that demonstration for Charms Club."
"So?" she asked.
"Daniel and I weren’t doing that, I can guarantee. If you can do all that and still get a 94 on a test, then you have nothing whatever to worry about."
"In essence, what you’re saying is that I should learn to waste less time on other stuff and study more."
"No," I said patiently, "You should recognise that you were doing equally valuable things that week."
"And much comfort that will be to me if I don’t get my target grades at N.E.W.T," she grumbled.
I sighed. Maybe one day she’d recognise her overwhelming motivation to help others as the strength it was. Or maybe there would always be some prize or number for her to focus on that would eclipse everything else and convince her that the stuff she loved was secondary. Maybe that was the way the world worked, however hard dreamers like me wished it otherwise. Did it have to though? Maybe our mind-sets weren’t the only fixed things that could do with a bit of growth.