In the 1990 film Arachnophobia directed by Frank Marshall, a family doctor, his wife, and their two young children move from San Francisco to a small town in rural California that is soon overtaken by deadly spiders. Dr. Ross Jennings suffers from arachnophobia, an overwhelmingly intense fear of spiders, stemming from a traumatic childhood incident when he witnessed a spider crawling up his bed and over his body and was too paralyzed with terror to move. Write a personal essay that examines the origins of one of your own fears—either serious, silly, or somewhere in-between. Are there elements of your reaction to this object of fear that seem reasonable or irrational? How have you countered, enabled, or worked to coexist with this fear?

“‘It isn’t fair, it isn’t right,’ Mrs Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.” The final sentence of Shirley Jackson’s classic short story “The Lottery” is included in a short list of “The Best Last Lines in Books” on Penguin Random House UK’s website, along with selections from a range of books by authors such as Ralph Ellison, Zora Neale Hurston, Franz Kafka, Ira Levin, and Virginia Woolf. Many of these lines are powerfully evocative and open-ended, whether darkly humorous, straight-up horrifying, or daringly hopeful. Jot down a list of your favorite last lines and use one of them as a prompt to provide either the first sentence of a new short story or to inspire a plot. How do the emotions, weight, and mood of this final sentence affect the way you use it in your own piece?

In early September, mysterious white blobs began washing ashore on the beaches of Newfoundland in Canada, described as sticky, spongy, and doughy. Beachcombers and scientists alike were confounded—were the blobs of animal or plant origins? Were they toxic or innocuous, or created from industrial waste? As scientists continue to collect samples and run tests on these mysterious blobs, take this period of uncertainty to write a poem about a blob: these beach blobs, a blob inspired by science fiction, an explicitly frightening or comedic blob, or perhaps an experience that simply feels blob-like. How does the slipperiness of this concept lend itself to metaphors in your poem? Consider experimenting with the shape of your text, creating a concrete, yet blobby, poem.