My new montra: find the writer

findthewriterAshy: How have you been?

Me: My week hasn’t been too bad, keep kinda thinkin’ heavy thoughts but that happens every so often doesn’t it? Oh moody artist

Ashy: Life’s heavy. Use your heavy thoughts and put ’em down on paper 🙂

The shot in the foot text I needed. You see I’ve been in a funk- the heavy, can’t catch your breath in a crowded night club sort. And understandable burden since the death of my father, but, usually I’m able to  make my way through and catch my breath if only for a second. This though, is constant. But perhaps the problem has not been in the sorrow, its depth undeniable, but rather in my schedule which has precluded me from writing and myself who has as of late, found it more appealing to surf the web or spend time on the blackhole of facebook, rather than explore the tangle of my thoughts, a dangerous web to be sure, but one which left to its own devices will continue to expand.

In short, I needed to just do even if I didn’t want to, even if it sucks.

And so in the last two days I have: found a collaborative paying writing effort (nothing big or very profitable but something that will get me writing.), advertised for an artist again for my comic idea, and started (though not finished so it is not yet posted) a kick starter campaign for another children’s book I have started.

Life is and I suppose always shall be amazing, beautiful, sad, horrid, immortal and terminal and it is I who will have to just learn how to weather each storm.

It was the bargain for the summer, and I thought I had it all.

loveIt was a flicker, a slow glint of tinder in an otherwise rainy, overcast May day: I wanted to write.

I had forgotten of course what it was like to live with true heart-break, to be one of the slumberers, stumbling through waking hours, waiting for the respite of sleep, but knowing none would lie in the folly of my mine’s dreams.

Fighting all the time, my one urge to lie still in my bed, to slow my breathing as the cover envelope me, and slowly close my eyes. To be still. To be as close to you.

In short, I miss my father terrible.

I know it’ll be days, maybe even weeks or months before I let the words course through my finger tips to page. The ink makes it real, impossible to smile and pretend that yesterday is today and tomorrow.

Soon enough they’ll be moments where the pressure is off my chest, a mad dash for the light underwater.

And I’ll forget, for a minute or two, the dull ache of my heart.

Then they’ll be another and another until I notice once again the smell of lilacs dancing in my chest and the sun warming my broken bones.

But for now, I wanted to do something. Anything. And that’s enough.

when creative writing isn’t fun anymore…..

Last week, as I finished my second play in as many weeks to send off to a competition in addition to sending off some poems and essays, I sat down and called me mother:

“writing these just wasn’t fun…..”

I was going to write today but my cat wouldn't let me

I was going to write today but my cat wouldn’t let me

An odd statement for me. I’ve been a writer for as long as I can remember typing away awful stories on my mother’s Apple 2. I wrote two novels in high school which probably will never see the light of day because well it was fun.

But as I finished last week, I realized that I was so stressed with perfection and trying to give my work the best chance it had to win and/or be published, that there was absolutely nothing fun about it.

So to remedy that, I’m starting an online series of pure fluff. I might self-publish it when I am done (have to one day turn this hobby into a job one day) but I’m not putting any pressure on myself. It’s just going to be like I’m back in high school, writing to express myself and entertain others!

Now what is this project? As many of you know, I wrote a short piece, Pemberley High which re-images Jane Austin’s classic in a modern high school. It was a very short piece, 500 words or less. I’m going to expand on it and turn it into a novella. The first installment should be up tomorrow unless something drastic comes up.  I’m not sure yet, I’ll probably post it to my main page then archive it under a tab.

I hope you enjoy it my readers! It should be a fun project 🙂

A literary clue to the holiday blues

I love the holidays. I always have. The lights, songs, horrible old Christmas movies and obnoxiously large family gatherings might be the only thing that keeps my sanity during the dark and cold Illinois winter.

But there is the flip side of the holidays. Over-commercialism, loneliness, songs that are played on repeat from Thanksgiving on and  Elf on a shelf.

It’s easy to become well, a Grinch.

But not anymore.
Grow your heartThe good folks at Dr. (an amazing site) have come up with 25 days to grow your heart three sizes.

Cute, simple non-related activities that are good for the soul and will surely help you with your holiday blues.

Give it a try. I know I’m going to.