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Tag Archives: writer’s block

The Long Forgotten Blog

I wrote three posts in 2019.

That’s it.

I used to call myself a writer. I don’t say that much anymore. After only three posts last year and really nothing else written, calling myself a writer would feel like a lie.

I haven’t felt inspired in so long.

What I have had is a few people tell me I should write a book about the wreck that was my life a few years back. But after all that, I just want to escape reality, not dwell on it and bring it back to life.  No, not yet anyway.

So what do I write about? And when do I find the time to do it? I know I still haven’t finished Drew’s high school experience, but she really requires time and attention, which I just don’t have these days. (and I’m not saying Drew is needy, but she’s special and deserves my best efforts)

My new goal… write some kind of post at least once a month. That’s right, I’m putting it here for all five or so of you to see. That should make me more accountable, right? And maybe I’ll start to feel the inspiration again.

See you in February.

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Today

I’m not really feeling IT today, whatever IT is. Creativity alludes me, but I promised myself I’d write something today, because I actually have a tiny porthole type window of time to do so today. It’s just a little round window that doesn’t even open to let in any fresh air. Maybe that’s why my creativity is stifled.

creepy road

Nevertheless, I was just able to work in the word nevertheless, so I guess I’m not completely mind numb today.

I had big plans. There were two ideas in my head fighting each other for my attention all day. Now that I’m spending time with my personal laptop, the ideas have vanished. Ok, not completely. I remember the concepts but not the wonderful way I was going to string my words together to make my points poignant. And really, if I cannot write either of these ideas to the best of my ability, I refuse to do it at all! Sometimes it’s ok to write fluff just to be writing; other times your topics require your utmost affections in molding them with your words. Masterpieces require love, time, and inspiration (just as lists require an Oxford comma).

It appears my ideas must wait for a better opportunity. Today is not the day.

 

My Writer’s Block Poem

so just write

I haven’t really done much poetry in years. Somehow the perfect storm of discussing writer’s block and reading the poetry of a few talented kids made the following today:

I can’t start to finish

when I can’t even begin.

Lack of inspiration

may be all in my head.

But I can’t seem to find the words

to get me through a line.

Do I have it in me,

to write a verse this time?

Empty words are dulling me.

Nothing now has meaning.

I don’t want to be a writer

with no substance, no feeling.

With my head in my hands,

I let out a monstrous moan.

Yet somehow I have done it.

I have written this poem.

 

Terri Klaes Harper

Copyright 2015

TBT: Some Old Ramblings

writers block

10/17/16

Okay, I have something to say. I just don’t know what it is yet, but I’m sure there is something waiting to come out. Something has been waiting for years to come out.

Oh, where is my muse? Where is the magic that used to be in my words, dancing on the pages? I used to see them in my mind and feel them form into ideas. There was always a poem in my head or a story waiting for a chance to spill out from my pen. But for so long now, there has been nothing. How can I call myself a writer when I don’t write?

Start small. Description. Like the constant humming and croaking of a million different night creatures in my back yard… getting louder as they find their places, my writing will reveal itself.

My cat with the twitchy nose and freckled face can be my muse. Start small. Start with the movement of her radar ears, which spasm at each noise in the darkness. She cranes her neck to see what only her imagination knows for sure is there. Her back ripples as I touch her softly with just one fingertip. I softly trace the line on the back of her head that separates the two color blocks of black and coppery-brown.  She turns to look at me with ears pointing straight up, as alert as soldiers on watch. Her pupils almost fill the space of her eyes, searching for the source of a new noise. She gingerly licks her paw and smooths it over her ear and spotted face. She always looks as though she has missed a spot, or twenty. She doesn’t mind. Contentedly, she settles down for yet another nap.

Sequestering My Sequel

writers block

Writing a sequel for Memoirs of an Ordinary Girl: The Middle-ish Ages.  That’s what I’m supposed to be doing at this exact moment, but instead, I’m writing a blog post about writing a sequel.  Why?  Because I’m looking for excuses to not work on my sequel right now and as long as I’m writing something, that’s all that matters, right?

Wrong.

I know.  I know.  It’s just like I said…an excuse.  Why would I even need an excuse?  So many reasons.

Writer’s block:  Today I am seriously NOT feeling my protagonist, or the plot, or anything at all, for that matter.  It’s just now, in this moment though.  I’ve been doing fine all along… until now.  The problem is I’m about to have a very busy several days in which I know I will be unable to schedule sequel writing time, so I’m feeling that added pressure.

Added pressure:  I’ve been working on this sequel for five months and I really want to get through this first draft and begin editing, but I’m only at about the halfway mark.  There is no time frame or deadline.  I’m an indie writer, so it’s all up to me, but I am the added pressure, because I want to have a sequel to offer to prove I’m serious about this book writing thing.  Also, I know I have more chances of getting noticed by readers if I have more than one book and the promise of an entire series.

Fear of sequel disaster:  It happens all the time in books and movies. We’ve all seen it, or read it, and felt sadly let down.  The first one is great, so a second is written or filmed.  But other than The Empire Strikes Back, which is my favorite Star Wars film, I have a hard time thinking of any movies or books in the second position that have lived up to the first.  Occasionally, a third can come along and help dig it out of a hole, but sometimes, once that car comes off the rails, it just becomes a larger train wreck.  I don’t want Drew to be part of a train wreck.  She means more to me than that and I want to get it right, for her sake.  I owe her (Drew is my protagonist, if you’re wondering)! So I have repeat performance issues.

But I really need to just suck it up and write, right?  I have to have faith that Drew can guide me and help me to be true to her character.  When I have alone time with her, as I do now, sequestered in my office, I need to build her life.  I can always go back and fix it later if I screw up too much.  Being a writer is much safer than parenting.  That’s what editing and revision are all about.  After all, I rewrote and deleted chunks in the first book. It’s acceptable to not be perfect at first.  Nobody has to know if I catch it before I publish it.  I can do this.  I feel better already.  I always do when I write it out. Now, can I do the same with Drew?