Writer Problems

1.  Not knowing when to stop editing something.  Because a piece can always go through more drafts.

 

2.  Running out of ink when you bring a pen somewhere.  Because it’s only when a writing implement isn’t nearby that a great idea comes to you.

 

3.  Not being able to find your go-to notebook filled with ideas.  Because it feels like a part of you is missing.

 

4.  When someone asks you to write about them.  Because you’ll probably insult them in some fashion or you just can’t write about people you know.

 

5.  Unsure if you should bring your laptop or your notebook or both.  Because sometimse it’s best to type something, and other times a piece is still in its scribble down words in a notebook phase, but sometimes you can’t tell, and lugging around both makes one’s bag heavy.

 

6.  Editing everything.  Because you become a grammar nazi and have penned edits on pamphlets, magazines, and other’s work.

 

7.  Can’t read without a pen in your hand.  Because that metaphor is just too good to pass up and the word “red” definitely has to lead to a theme and you didn’t know the definition of  petrichor.

 

8.  Choosing the main character’s name for a piece.  Because the name has to sound right, the meaning needs to encompass everything your character is, the spelling needs to look good on paper; and it’s practically the most crucial decision.

 

9.  About to fall asleep and THEN getting the best ideas.  Thusly sacrificing sleep.

 

10.  Writer’s block.  Because if we’re not writing, our life has no purpose.

My Own Deadline

What does it take to write something moving, mesmerizing, powerful, and beautiful?  It’s a recipe of inspiration, motivation, determination, a Thesaurus, some inner monologues that go something like: well I like this paragraph, but I don’t know if it really belongs here, but then I’d have to change that last sentence, and actually this character’s name should be changed, and I don’t know if that fragment is helping, etc; a few tears, memories, frustration, and tons and tons of editing.

I hate to confess, but I haven’t been motivated to write.  I’ve been inspired; I’m always inspired to write.  I’m reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, and her conversational tone urges me to write.  I’m also reading Lucy Howard Taylor’s book, Biting Anorexia and her well crafted prose insist I grab a pen.  The time I have on my hands; the hours I have to myself, practically taunt me into opening a new Word Document.  But, I don’t.  I haven’t.

How can I claim the title of a writer if I don’t execute?  I wrote all quarter long, editing essays, typing up stories, I even wrote a poem one night.  I’m so used to deadlines telling me when and what to write.  Those deadlines have been lifted for my break, and all of a sudden the freedom to write leaves my mind a little scattered.  Evident in the fact that I’m reading three different books, and a magazine.  In the shower, I’ve created so many little snippets of future works, but nothing coherent and complete.  My energy hasn’t gone into writing.  It’s gone into the paintings I’ve made for friends for Christmas gifts; it’s gone into the 12 handwritten letters I’ve sent, it’s gone into the workouts I get up and do each morning, it’s gone into the books I’m reading.  And that’s okay, we all need a respite.

HOWEVER, just to stay on track, I’d like to share some snippets I have written that I’m fond of:

Your teeth as white as notebook paper.

Fill my lungs with ice.

My frozen breath shall lay

heavy on your chest.

Maybe I can save face through the mangled sentences I fabricate.

I’ve been picking apart my skin.

Hoping you would listen.

My flesh begs to be seen.

But I’m not just a body.

The secretion of words.

Do you know what I said?

Can you repeat my secrets?

What thought is locked in my head?

You’re speechless again.

The piano keys remind me of teeth.

Gnawing, grinding chomping on my heart strings.

This emaciated melody isn’t enough.

With that said, here’s my own personal deadline.  Before the new year arrives, I WILL write something, completely for myself.  Whether it be a short story or a poem, most likely the latter, but I will do it because I don’t like to lie, and this blog is all about life and truth, so thusly.  And for the new year, I’ll share it, so be sure to keep reading!

100!

This is my 100th post, and I just want to thank everyone who reads my blog.  It always makes my day when I see an email in my Inbox letting me know a fellow WordPress blogger has liked one of my posts or has begun following my blog.  To my friends who have signed up via email to receive my posts, I appreciate the support.  And I’d especially like to thank my mom who never fails to like my posts, read them, and point out my grammatical errors.  And I’d like to thank a teacher I had senior year of high school who taught me all about blogging and encouraged me to write.  Thank you everyone for taking the time out of your day to read what I have to stay.  Your time and support is appreciated!

 

In honor of the 100th, I thought I’d share with everyone something I’ve written.  I know I talk a lot about my writing classes, my passion for it, and books I enjoy, but I don’t share it too often.  So, please enjoy the following poem:

 

Sandcastles

 

We are like sandcastles.

Fragile monuments

erected from

miniscule grains

of memories

blood, spit, tears,

flesh and bone.

A capable construct.

Offering shelter

for one’s heart.

A pliant edifice.

Accepting change

with little frustrations.

Artful architecture.

Exuding uniqueness.

 

We are like sandcastles.

Grandiose structures

fashioned from

much more than sand:

flaws, opinions,

a spider web of nerves,

and a conscious.

Acutely aware

of our temporary

existence.

Antonym of building

is ruin.

Like sandcastles,

we await our slow

decay until finally

a sweeping surge

leaves nothing but

the lonely shore.

 

 

mauifamilymagazine.com

Need More Writing

Someone asked me what made me want to write, and I struggled with an answer.  I replied that in first grade we were given an allotted time to write stories, and it was my favorite part of the day.  I described that I wrote a rhyming poem on my white board at home that made my mother cry because of the subject matter.  I explained that writing is my drug and I’m addicted.  I’ve been doing so much writing lately because I am taking Nonfiction and Fiction, and I couldn’t be happier.  I’ve composed a list of quotes all about writing, literature, poetry, and authors because I simply cannot get enough:

 

1.  “Every good writer writes shitty first drafts.” – Anne Lamont

 

2.  “That is part of the beauty of all literature.  You discover that your longings are universal, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone.  You belong.”  – F. Scott Fitzgerald

 

3.  “At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.” – Plato

 

4.  “There is nothing to writing.  All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” – Ernest Hemingway

 

5.  “The crown of literature is poetry.” – William Somerset Maugham 

 

blog.writeathome.com

 

6.  “A short story is a different thing all together – a short story is like a kiss in the dark from a stranger.” – Stephen King

 

7.  “For your born writer, nothing is so healing as the realization that he has come upon the right word.” – Catherine Drinker Bown

 

8.  “The road to hell is paved with adverbs.” – Stephen King

 

9.  “Writers live twice.” – Natalie Goldberg

 

10.  “Writing isn’t just a hobby for me or a way to pass the time. I write because I need to. Because words flow through my head to my fingertips and beg for life. I write as a way of life. I write to relive memories. I write to forget. I write to escape. I write to create. I write to stay sane. I write, yes, because I want to, but also because I have to. Because writing is a part of me that grows and thrives with me. I write to understand. Understand the world around me and the people who inhabit this world. I write to understand myself. I write to express myself. I write because it makes me happy. But, I also write when the sadness or anger or loneliness is too overwhelming and writing only makes it worse. I write to inspire others. I write because I’m inspired. I write because I need to. I write because I don’t know how not to.”  – Me

A Memoir…Me?

I’m taking Nonfiction this quarter, and I absolutely love the class: my professor is engaging and funny, I’m learning a lot about writing and how to write well, and we’ve been reading plenty of inspirational and interesting excerpts and texts.  But, our first assignment seems quite daunting: writing a memoir.  Now, the difficult part is not the length, which is 3-4 pages.  No, no, the difficult part is choosing a topic: it can be about anything, but it has to be something that actually happened.

My question is this: what if nothing has happened in my life that is noteworthy of sharing with the class?  Many of my classmates are opening up, talking about their parent’s divorce or an abusive relationship.  Others are going to describe their fascinating lives: being stranded in a desert, an acid trip, getting revenge on someone.  I’m interested in reading everyone’s memoir but my own!

The difficult part is that the memoir has to have a point: what did you learn, is there tension, is there a climax and a solution or denouement?  I threw around a couple ideas, but after I started writing my drafts, I just kept thinking what is the point?  Why am I telling people about this aspect or time in my life if I can’t even say why.

The other reason this is difficult is because I’m being asked to write about myself.  There are plenty of days that I think my life is awesome or I think I have a wild story.  In this blog alone, I’ve documented many moments of my life, some mean a lot to me and some are positively insignificant.  But, the second someone asks a question about my life, I suddenly have no answers, and the second my professor assigned the memoir, I clammed up and feel there’s nothing to tell.

Maybe I’m bashful.  Maybe I secretly don’t want to open up.  Maybe I’m afraid of being judged.  Maybe I’m concerned that people will compare my experience to theirs.  Maybe I’m terrified of failing.  Or maybe, quite simply, there is nothing worthy to write.  Whatever the reason, it must be honest because it’s nonfiction.  Well, I’m being honest now.

I Believe…

I believe music saves lives.

I believe in true love.

I believe money cannot buy happiness.

I believe a good cry can cleanse the body of sadness and thoughts weighing someone down.

I believe in marriage equality.

I believe art is an indispensable staple of society.

I believe in wishing upon eyelashes and dandelions and shooting stars and 11:11 and candies with double wrappers.

I believe karma is a bitch.

I believe hell is Earth.

I believe hate is a strong word.

I believe holding a grudge is not worth your time.

I believe everything happens for a reason.

I believe if it’s meant to be it will happen.

I believe if you’re out of sight you are out of mind, but also

I believe absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I believe nothing is as bad as it seems.

I believe there is beauty in pain.

I believe we are all a little crazy.

I believe laughter is the best medicine.

I believe in Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster and other creatures.

I believe aliens exist.

I believe Courtney Love had something to do with Kurt Cobain’s death.

I believe rain is romantic.

I believe the worst feeling in the world is finding out someone you trusted is actually dishonest.

I believe I can express myself better through writing.

I believe I determine my own destiny, my fate is not predetermined.

I believe in hugs.

I believe everything in moderation.

I believe I am ever changing; I am not the same person I was when I woke up this morning.

I believe exercising is therapeutic.

I believe no one is simply pretty.

I believe you should treat people the way you want to be treated.

I believe our dreams try to tell us something.

I believe silence is too loud.

I believe Pluto is actually a planet.

I believe humans are complicated creatures: we’re chaotic, we’re gorgeous, we’re fairytales, we’re tragedies, we’re flaws, we’re good, we’re bad, we’re unique.

 

You Know You’re A Writer When…

As writer’s we’re passionate about words, we love to create characters, dialogue, and plots, and we enjoy reading.  For a few laughs, I hope you enjoy this funny (yet totally true), blog post.  YOU KNOW YOU’RE A WRITER WHEN:

 

1.  You write your Christmas cards as if you’re writing the next Great Gatsby.

 

2.  You go to parties and read the titles of the host’s books, and secretly judge the host on their chosen literature.

 

3.  You know at least ten synonyms for the word “blue.”

 

4.  You become so emotionally attached to your characters that you actually cry when something bad happens to them or you call your mother to tell her what wonderful event took place in your character’s life.

 

5.  You never leave home without a notebook and a pen.

 

6.  You always use proper grammar.

 

7.  You narrate in your head as you go about doing everyday tasks.

 

8.  It’s 3 AM in the morning and you cannot fall asleep because you need to open a Word Document and begin writing because your writer’s block finally went away and now you’re just full of ideas.

 

9.  You collect words and sentences.

 

10.  In your free time, all you do is write, think about writing, or you read.

 

11.  You leave a character unnamed for more than 10 pages simply because you are waiting for it to hit you because the name must capture everything the character stands for.

 

12.  Something terrible happens in your life or a friend’s life and you think, “Wow, this is good material for my next book.”

 

someecards.com

Where To Write

This could just be me, but as a writer, I have a list of places I want to go to write.  I want to tote a notebook with me to different locations, plop myself down, and write until I can’t any longer. I’m sure plenty of others have the same writer’s bucket list as I do, and others who are passionate about what they do have a similar vision.  For example, bands often dream of going to specific places around the world and playing shows, and athletes hope to play at certain stadiums for varying reasons.

So here’s a condensed list of where I’d like to go to write (mind you some are quite odd):

1.  There is a hill in my town and for some reason, I have this desire to go there, preferably around dusk.  I have this idea of being completely isolated up above the earth and writing what I feel, see, hear, and cannot explain.

 

2.  This is my total wanna-be hipster moment: Starbucks.  I can just imagine it, sipping my double chocolate chip frappucino with pen in hand hurriedly scribbling on paper my post modern thoughts.

 

3.   I’d like to be a beach bum for a day and watch the ocean waves crash on the shoreline.  I’d like to go during winter though, when no one is really around, so it can just be me, the salt, the sand, and the sea.  The ocean has already inspired  so much of my work, so I feel like it’s trying to tell me something.

 

4.  Forsyth Park in Savannah Georgia.  If you’ve never been there, it’s a must see because of how gorgeous it is, complete with an elegant fountain, an ampitheater, surrounded by little stores, quaint houses, and coffee shops; and there’s plenty of grass to lounge around, start a soccer match, or find a shady spot to write.  The atmosphere is so calm, plus as an added bonus, there’s always a plethora of people so one can people watch and make up stories for each one.

 

5.  The Hollywood Sign in California seems like the best spot to write about materialism, beauty and ugliness, and greed.  I don’t even know if people are allowed by the sign, but if I become a well known author or poet one day, maybe someone will dig up this blog post and allow me my chance to achieve my goal.

 

6.  Grounds for Sculpture in Hamilton, New Jersey.  For some reason people have this terrible idea of New Jersey, as it is sometimes referred to as the armpit of America.  But, if you’ve ever visited this museum, and traversed the acres of land that boast of thought provoking, hilarious, and elegant sculptures, you would think twice about Jersey.  I could get lost in the artwork and write for hours.

 

7.  The Eiffel tower in Paris but only as I am enjoying some delectable French food.  Paris is supposed to be beautiful, and what better way to become inspired than a breathtaking city?

 

8.  Having never left the East Coast but once in my life, this next one is also on the list because I need to see the beauties that lie in the western states: The Grand Canyon.  Surrounded by such nature seems awe-inspiring, plus it’s  flat out a must see.

 

9.  This one is ever so fitting, but a book store.  HOWEVER, not just your typical Barnes and Noble, no no, it needs to be an obscure book store or a one of kind only popular by the locals of the town.  I’m feeling The Book Lady Book Store in Savannah, Georgia.  It’s quaint, stuffed to the roof with books, and quiet.

 

10.  Lastly but certainly not least, a rooftop or a balcony.   There’s just something about heights that thrills me and urges me to write.  This one I’m going to be vague with because I could go to New York City and find a rather tall building and write from there, or I could go to a friend’s two story house, make my way out the window, and write from that height.  Guess I’ll see what happens.

 

But I encourage all aspiring writers and even veteran writers to make a list like this because you never know what will inspire you and sometimes it’s just nice to get out of your routine writing spot and try something new.