The rules are simple:

• List ten things you resolve not to do in the upcoming year.
• Be as creative as possible.

To get thing rolling, here are…

My 2010 New Year’s Anti-Resolutions

• I will not free up room to take in borders by convincing my kids to sleep in more “convenient” places—like the oven or bathtub.
• I will not try to spice up the Winter Olympics in my house, by convincing each family member that they were adopted from various cold-weather countries.
• I will not open job interviews by asking if I should have listed my RockBand Drum skills on my resume.
• I will not try to push day-glo sombreros as the next fashion trend.
• I will not hang around the seafood section of the grocery store trying to convince the patrons to throw their “catches” back.
• I will not attempt to create balance in the universe by making only left hand turns.
• I will not try to addict my kids to crystal-meth in order to take wagers on who can resist the longest.
• I will not try use my old boxer shorts as material for a “more interesting” type of quilt.
• I will not try to become famous by faking an Easter Bunny sighting by supplying a fake pelt as evidence.
• I will not use the ridiculous number of Slurpees I buy as justification to initiate a hostile takeover of the nearby convenience store.

Originally posted on where six writers talk about the trials and tribulations of their writing lives. And each Tuesday the soapbox belongs to me.

I know this because the internet told me so.

Actually my own blog told me.

As I’m sure many of you do, I occasionally check my blog stats. The plug-in I use includes a section that gives me the search results that someone used to find my blog. Yesterday, three rather curious searches showed up within a few hours. Two people on separate computers searched for “dale roe death” while a third searched for “the death of dale roe.”

Now this was a little disconcerting to say the least. When you think about dying you think that…well, that you’d be the first to know. Or at least right up near the top.

But no, it seems that I was, at best, the fifth to find out this disturbing news.

Further investigation revealed that a gentleman by the name of Dale Roe, who was the Athletic Director of a high school in Viginia, was the one that passed away.

What do you collect, just for yourself? We all collect things. Many of these collections are common—coins, stamps, shot glasses—proudly displayed to show our membership in an unofficial fraternity of enthusiasts. Others are more private. Not secret, mind you—just a collection that’s a more organic collection, growing by chance and happenstance, without the support of a group of enthusiasts to learn from. Maybe it’s the corks from the bottles of champagne you’ve had in celebration, or the license plates from every car you’ve gotten rid of. Often this casual collection says much more about us than the collections we cultivate.

Answer this question on your own blog, then leave a comment with your answer and a link to your post.

I collect spam subject lines. You’ve all gotten spam in your inbox where the subject or the text is just a random string of words, or a snippet of words taken from some larger text. Nearly all of the time, they’re nonsense, sometimes they’re offensive or suggestive, but once in a while there’s something worth keeping. Not for their own merit, but sometimes they are great fodder for brainstorming.

Some examples:

Winter is surrounded by icy women

cough syrup requires assistance

the alchemist procrastinates

marvelous machinery, and quiet vassily

I have found that my almost unused Gmail account produces far more spam, and hence more keepers, than does my primary Yahoo! account.

In some ways this is the internet equivalent of browsing garage sales looking for hidden treasures, but I prefer to think of it as a manifestation of the “a million monkeys at a million typewriters” adage. With all the trash these leeches put out it’s funny that by sheer accident they have produced something of worth.

There are websites devoted to Spam Poetry, where artists write poems of the flotsam skimmed from subject lines, but to me this is a perversion of the purer form of keeping each line in its original state.

Now it’s your turn. Answer this question on your own blog, then leave a comment with your answer and a link to your post.

Muse Flash is a new feature, where I’ll give you a topic for your own blog. I’m going to try it for a few posts and see if it has legs.

These are really more of a writing exercise than real resolutions—a way to get the new year off to a creative start. Although, if you do it right, these resolutions should be a breeze to keep.

The rules are simple:

• List ten things you resolve not to do in the upcoming year.
• Be as creative as possible.
• Post them on your blog and leave a link in your comment below.

To get thing rolling, here are…

My 2009 New Year’s Anti-Resolutions

1. I will not get my kids hooked on coffee in an attempt to keep them little by stunting their growth.
2. I will not post my daughter in a fake auction on eBay, just to see how much I could get for her.
3. I will not go to the library and put misleading, handwritten notes in the margins of books to throw off other researchers.
4. I will not propagate an internet hoax alleging that our new president’s speeches contain secret advertising messages sold to US companies as a way to help fight the recession.
5. I will not try to convince my kids to punch up their essays for school through liberal use of the elusive seventh vowel.
6. I will not advocate the use of disposable batteries to create home electroshock therapy kits.
7. I will not subject the world to the recipe for tofu chip cookies.
8. I will not preach belief in the ancient Norse Gods as a way to return to Family Values.
9. I will not teach my six-year-old how to play craps so that he can hustle his classmates to supplement his lunch allowance.
10. I will not fake disturbing conversations over my Bluetooth headset in public, as a way of determining who is eavesdropping.

This post was originally posted on Write Anything—
where six writers talk about the trials and
tribulations of their writing lives. And each
Tuesday the soapbox belongs to me.