Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Motivation.
The Grand Escape
THE GRAND ESCAPE It was a foggy and chilly October night when my friends first discussed the furtive escape game. The Halloween themed flyers enticed daring participants to enter a mysterious contest. The prediction warned that only the wittiest possessed the innate skill to disentangle an intricate maze and discover an expeditious escape route. The enigmatic ads decorated the old world style architecture of the Main Avenue of our small New England town. The suspense was further exacerbated by the fact that no one could pinpoint the time or method used to strategically position the cryptic flyers. The mysticism earned the contest an increasingly dubious reputation. The elder population initiated hasty gatherings to gossip over tea. Participants’ heads shook and jaws dropped at fanciful ideas aimed to decipher the suspicious competition. . Few locals went as far as to tactfully stroll by only to destroy what they deemed were malevolent flyers aimed to poison our town. The young, inebriated crowd inundated the local bar, “Whiskey rebels” to brainstorm distinct game scenarios with a comical twist vehemently enhanced by liquor. I admit the skepticism only made the idea more attractive to our group.
By Marz6 years ago in Motivation
Little Black Book
Frank Allgood Jr's life was not always so good. Nevertheless, it was the cards life had it dealt Frank so, it had seemed. From the time he was a kid, his dream was to earn a mechanical design engineering degree to make great money doing what he loved, designing motor cars. Something his family was very fond of.
By Dawn Dean6 years ago in Motivation
Apps That Have Helped Me Get My Shiz Together in Quarantine
I started my first semester of my Master's Program online. Juggling zoom, creating a reasonably effective study space, and figuring out the other piling masses of problems that were suffocating me lead me to really re-evaluate how I'm spending my time.
By Ariana V.S.6 years ago in Motivation
The small black notebook
The small black book fell on the floor and disappeared. I couldn’t find it. I looked everywhere - under that ridiculous plush couch that converts into impossible-to-sleep-on bed. I looked under a desk that my son covered with a blue masking tape (long story). I looked under a rebounder (our neighbor downstairs has patience of a saint). “Well…” I exhaled, “it seems to be gone. But where on Earth did it go?”
By Anastasia Fazal6 years ago in Motivation
The LBB
The LBB By Tim Gesner Needra was a writer. Yes, she was a lot of things, but she thought of herself as a writer more than anything. When Needra was young her mother read to her the most amazing stories. Needra loved it when her mother read to her. She loved the pictures, she loved the voices her mother made when she read. But the words! Words were mysterious. They were magical. Needra tried making up her own words by carefully copying some letters onto a scrap of paper and taking them to her mother to read them to her. “What’s this word, Momma?” “Oh. I don’t know…” Her mother said, a smile playing on her lips. “Let’s see if I can pronounce this. Hmmm, I think it says ‘Needra’. What’s it supposed to be?” “It’s my name Momma!” Needra almost shouted. “Oh, I see it now! You spelled ‘Needra’. You spelled it very nicely too.” And even though Needra’s name was actually Leeandra, Needra was the only name she would answer to from that point on. That week, her father came home a little later than usual and he presented Needra with a book for her to write in! “Now not every book is made to write in, Needra,” her father had said very solemnly, but still smiling gently, “but this one is.” They showed her how each page of the book had a letter of the alphabet on it. Needra knew the alphabet song but didn’t know what each letter looked like. Momma showed her how, if she sang the song, it would show her what each letter was as she turned the pages. There were also dotted lines, where if you connected the dots, you could make your own letters! Daddy said her letters were very nice when she copied the word “FROG” out of the book. Needra often saw her mother writing in a little book. It looked old, and shiny, a deep dark brown. “Are you writing your alphabet too?” asked Needra. “No Baby, I’m just writing. This is my writing book. It’s kind of like yours, but there’s no pictures and I already know how to make all the letters into words. Momma writes down important things that have happened, things she is thinking about, even little stories sometimes.” “Stories?!” Needra’s whole world turns upside down for a moment. “YOU can write stories?” “Of course I can Baby, anyone can, and that means YOU too!” Momma poked Needra softly right over her heart. Little Needra didn’t realize it at the time, but from that moment on she was a writer.
By Timothy Gesner6 years ago in Motivation
No Need For Greed
Lexi woke up with a start and glanced at the clock. How could it be morning already? She heard her older son laughing in his room so that was a good sign, at least he was already up. Some mornings it was a real job to get him out of bed. She took a moment to see if she could hear her other son and sure enough the delightful theme song of his favorite phone game came wafting out of his room. She took a quick moment to check her emails and messages and seeing nothing of real importance, shook the sleep away as best as she could and headed to the bathroom.
By Jenny Beiersdorf6 years ago in Motivation
Why I Started Writing
I only used to write when I was told. Growing up writing was always a task or an assignment that always recieved some sort of judgement. Markings all over the pages or notes that the reader enjoyed how I arranged my words on the page. It wasn't something I did just for fun or to paint a picture in my head. So when I started writing on my own it wasn't for pleasure either. I was really at the end of my wits. I just needed someone to talk to. Someone who would listen and not judge my words. A way for me to express my inner thoughts without fear. So I just wrote down every thought that came into my head. Some of them were full sentences, others were strings of chaotic words filled with emotion. I started to enjoy the process of writing so I could admire the thoughts in my head rather than trying to say things that people wanted to hear. This was the first time I was able to freely express myself. It led me to begin writing down my dreams and then my wildest fantasies. I imagined everything I could ever want and wrote them down like a to do list of my wildest fantasies. Things like "marry a rockstar and have him write a song about me", "become a millionare and donate all of it to charity", and "live in Italy and taste real tuscan wine". I did this because it was fun to illustrate a fantasy and live it on these pages. I noticed myself getting better at accomplishing tasks by writing about my day or the things I wanted to get done. It was as if as soon as it was written down in my black book. The chore wasn't just taken down, but simultaneously stamped into my subonscious, stained until I checked it off of my list. I got more organized and creative with my daily tasks. Over time I started to say that my little book could grant wishes in this way. Writing in my book was a personal hobby I've acquired over time. I didn't really mention it to anyone in my life since I live alone. The other day I was spending some time catching up with a friend I haven't talked to in a little while. I almost forgot her name but after we spoke for a few minutes the name "Natalie" flashed into my subconscious. Natalie was telling me all about her struggles adjusting to the married life and how she has started to hate the work she was in. I was single and worked the same teaching job I have since I graduated from college so I didn't have any good advice to offer her. I just told her about the things I was doing and how writing helped me change my perspective and accomplish things more easily. She didn't seem very aroused by my story and quickly went back to talking about herself. I thought she even ignored everything I had said, which made me remember why we aren't closer friends. We went our separate ways and I hadn't heard from her until three months later when she called me on the phone. She said she traced my number from the school I teach at and told me about how she left her husband. I responded with consolation and my condolences but she said that it wasn't even "the best part". She met a new man and she's already getting married to him next month and moving to Portugal. I didn't know what to say, her impulsive actions were far beyond my type A conception. She said she couldn't be happier and I told her I was glad to hear it. I wasn't sure why she went out of her way to share this news with me besides, my speculation that she wanted to prove that she has risen from her coniption about her husband when we last spoke. But she wanted to tell me that she took my advice. I wasn't sure what she meant until she explained further that she started writing everything down: thoughts, worries, wishes, dreams. She said she found patterns in the things she would write down and the things happening in her life. She would write about how much she hated her husband and how he neglected her emotionally and sexually and she noticed them drifting even further apart. She noticed this pattern blatantly when she wrote about missing the smell of lavendar because it reminded her of her mother's garden. Not a few hours later did she come across lavendar scented candles at Home Depot and lavendar stems at Whole Foods. I speculated the correlation, it seemed to me that lavendar would be typically found at places like this. She insisted that writing had a magical power to it. Like casting a spell. She tested it with money too. She wrote down that she would get $200 to pay her bills and she ended up earning $200 from a raffle she entered a few weeks before. I told her she was extremely lucky but she said she wasn't. That it was the book. She wanted to tell me that everything she had written down so far had come true and how she had used this power to make her dream life for herself. She wanted to thank me. I didn't know what else to say besides "Well, I'm very happy for you". She told me she would contact me again to send me an invitation to her wedding but I told her I wouldn't be able to take the time off of work to go to her destination wedding. We said our goodbyes and ended the call. I took a few minutes to process our conversation. It was incredible how much her lifestyle changed in such a short time. She was a beautiful woman with perfectly plucked eyebrows and long blonde hair. It wouldn't be that unlikely for a romantic european hunk to whisk her away. Not like that could happen to someone like me. I wrote about how it made me feel. About how I wished I could meet the love of my life and get married in a beautiful country and have $20,000 to buy a new car. I didn't have wishful thinking, more like I was yearning for something I could never have. When I went to sleep that night I dreamt I had all of those things. Like I was living Natalie's life. It was the best dream I'd had in a while, but waking up stung a little more than usual that morning. I was walking over to my coffee maker feeling as though I was abandoned by my own fantasy after I woke up, when I got a phone call. I groggily answered and was told by our principal that I was being considered for a promotion that would raise my pay by $20k a year. My jaw hung like it weighed an extra 10 pounds. He told me since I was already teaching that I didn't need to interview and that they would look at evaluations and speak with other members of the advisory council. He bascially called to congratulate me and commend me for my work. I was almost tranquilized by shock but I was able to stutter out about 5 "thank you's" before we got off the phone. I ran to my book and started writing. I wrote about everything I ever wanted. I was manifesting on every corner of every page in a frienzy. I loved my life but not enough to sit still when I could find ease from financial struggle or invite a little romacnce into my life. Now that I knew it was attainable, I began to want the best for myself. I stopped harping on the negative aspects because writing about them only made them more present and powerful in my life. This became so real to me that I even watched the things I would say in conversation. I had the power to manifest my life this entire time. However, it wasn't until I gave myself permission to use this power to be happy that I recognized how directly I was leading myself towards a path in life that could either be exactly what I wanted, or exactly what I didn't want. It was entirely up to me.
By Lara6 years ago in Motivation
Pulpmaster
Pulpmaster Keeping the Pages Running Devin Allers “I call it the Book of the Self. It’s made from recycled paper,” Jasper said, as he slid the little black book across the table to the doubtful investor. “This isn’t worth my time bud, cool idea but just not worth putting ten grand on the table for. Goodluck,” Investor number sixteen stands and leaves.
By Devin Allers6 years ago in Motivation
Tears in the Attic
“why does my father always make me do the hard cleaning?” I complained to myself as I pulled on the string that led into the attic. “Making me clean the attic he dirtied like I’m his slave or something.” The stairs swung down and nearly hit me in the head. “Just my luck, I forgot the stupid things were broken.”
By Nicholas Davis6 years ago in Motivation
Taking a Leap of Faith
My alarm clocked roared at 6:00 in the morning like it did every day, I quickly turned it off and put my feet on the floor. As I was getting ready for my day I received a reminder on my phone saying, ‘Annual Review Due Tomorrow.’ I quickly tossed my phone on the counter and became anxious. I had been working at this job for nearly a year and had been dreading this moment for months. Every time I would go to write my review I would delete the words that I had carefully chosen knowing fully they were lies. Every day I’d force myself to walk into the building and begin my day with a smile.
By Makenzie Serafini6 years ago in Motivation
Turning Pages to a Dream
Turning Pages to a Dream Hanzila excitedly sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Today was about to be one of the most pivotal moments in her life. Immediately Hanzila walked over to her small desk, eagerly thrusting her black notebook open and jotted down the date in the upper-righthand corner, "August 6th, 2010." She writes, "Dear Diary... Today is the day that I make my escape to a happier life!"
By Kirsten Porter6 years ago in Motivation
The Stars Mean Everything
I've never been much of an astrology person. That isn't to say that I'm someone who takes a hard stance against it or derides other people for caring about it. Astrology has just never been my thing. The deepest down that particular rabbit hole that I've ever really gone lies at the back of the newspaper under Horoscopes. Even though I'm not well versed in the subject, it seems to keep coming up, and so I find myself wondering what it is that the stars have to say about who I am as a person.
By John Dodge6 years ago in Motivation
