It’s Thursday again. Enjoy our celebration of the random.
Just do it
Creeeak.
Grooaannnn.
SqueeakGroanCcreeeak.
Those are the sounds I hear in my head as I flex my writing muscles for the first time in a while. It’s amazing how little time it really takes for a good coating of rust to form in the creative machinery of the mind.
There are a lot of reasons I haven’t been writing, some valid, and some pretty lame. Like anything else, writing is a habit that is built over time and, once broken, can be hard to pick back up again.
For me, the process actually started yesterday. Which is not to say I wrote yesterday. Far from it, in fact. I did absolutely nothing yesterday except sleep and watch tv and read. I rested my arm (which has been physically preventing me from writing for any length of time) and I rested my mind. I pet the cat and ordered Chinese food and watched recordings on the DVR.
Today, the fact that it’s now after 5pm and I’m only just starting to write has more to do with the Critic, I think, than anything. I did sleep late again, which made my cat very happy. But even when I got up, feeling quite a bit more rested than yesterday, I still couldn’t make myself open the laptop. Partly there was some real concern over how my arm would react, and partly writing just seemed like so much work. In fact, the closer I got to actually writing the more my heart started pounding.
So I went on an Artist’s Date instead. The walk to Whole Foods is nothing new, but it has become something that I associate in my mind with opening up the creative brain and preparing to work. I bought new flowers for my table, and some oranges. Then I moved my laptop to the table so I could hopefully position my hands better and have less irritation of the nerves. And, of course, I can see and smell the flowers.
So, finally, here I am. Butt in chair, fingers on keyboard, and writing. It’s slow, and not particularly inspired, but it’s something. And it’s yet another reminder of how important it is to just keep putting one word after the other, regardless of what else is going on in my life.
I don’t have to write 1,000 words a day. I don’t have to write a half a page, even. As many times as I have come home feeling like crap and then ended up with 400 or 500 words just because I opened the Word document and let the momentum build as I went along, you’d think I would have learned the lesson by now.
So, to remind myself as much as anyone else, here’s what I know. Sometimes you just have to buckle down and push the obstacles and excuses out of your way. If they need handling, then deal with them. If they don’t, then set them down and move on. Then just write. Something. Anything. Put fingers to keyboard or pen to paper and just do the work.
Here’s to all of us, writing.
Flash Fiction Friday
Come and enjoy a short, sweet read!
Thursday Thirteen
Stop by for some fun with random lists of thirteen things.
Review of “Crossing Borders”
I just recently finished Z. A. Maxfield’s book “Crossing Borders”. It’s a devastatingly hot and romantic m/m read. The realism of the story makes for sheer, down-to-earth escapism.
Right from the start I liked the main characters. Tristan is a college student questioning his sexuality. Michael is a public servant surprised and delighted to offer some answers.
Michael has eyed Tristan since the skateboarding youth showed a reckless side worthy of an expensive ticket. The joy of them finding one another is nothing short of wonderful. I urge you to buy this book and follow the couple through their journey toward love.
Additionally, if you like what you’ve read here and want to know more about Ms. Maxfield, please click below to read my interview with her:
Thursday Thirteen
Click below for a little Thursday diversion. We dare ya!
Being a Writer
Today happens to be an extremely exciting time for me. While considering what to write for this very blog post, coincidentally, I received my first ever payment as an author!
Although this is just one more step on my chosen path, I thought it fitting to share what this humble writer thinks constitutes the title.
Although this is just one more step on my chosen path, I thought it fitting to share what this humble writer thinks constitutes the title.
If you have a million dollar, multi-book deal, you’re a writer. That states the obvious.
However, there are many unpublished people out there with notebooks and hard drives overflowing with stories. Is he or she any less of a writer? I don’t think so.
If you, dear writer, have the courage to share your tales, however that might be accomplished, I commend you. For those of you who’ve not yet taken that step, I hope you’ll change you’re mind.
Bring your gift into the light of day and brighten someone’s existence. If you’d like suggestions on where to take your stories online, mention it in a comment and perhaps I or someone else can give you ideas. It can be scary but there are some wonderful places out there. And the world can never have too many storytellers.
Happy writing!
Thursday Thirteen
Book Review of “Kelland”
Just hours ago I finished the novel “Kelland” by Paul G. Bens, Jr. I’m still sorry it’s over, actually.
I would call the book a drama first, with minor supernatural elements. The biggest of these is, who is Kelland? Man? Woman? Child? Lover? Priest?
I would call the book a drama first, with minor supernatural elements. The biggest of these is, who is Kelland? Man? Woman? Child? Lover? Priest?
Kelland is all these things, depending upon what the interacting character needs for his or her part to play out. I honestly don’t even know what Mr. Bens would say Kelland actually is! Angel? Devil?
All I can say for sure is that I was drawn into the stories of the five main characters from the start. It didn’t matter that the vignettes jumped back and forth through time and from person to person. Never once did I feel at a loss from beginning to end. Rather, this reader loathed putting the title down. At the same time, I could do so and come back to where I left off without confusion setting in.
There is a dark side to each of the story threads, and they culminate into something any reasonable human being will find sadly disturbing and downright infuriating. But rather than being a depressing tale, I found in “Kelland” an exultant scope of hope and redemption. It’s a story of forgiveness.
If you’re looking for pirates, ghosts, or lots of steamy sex scenes, don’t buy this book. If, instead, you want to read compelling drama about believable people in real situations, “Kelland” just might be for you. I appreciated all 250 pages and wanted more when they ended, so I would definitely recommend this for the reader willing to walk down those twisting alleys of the human psyche.
Thursday Thirteen
It’s that day of the week again, where we in the blogosphere like to have fun listing thirteen random items.