Just in case you didn’t see on Facebook, I tried out this new writing program and lost a bit of my current manuscript because I was an idiot. Well, after pouting about the loss of the work for a day or two, I decided to chin up and start anew. Sometimes things happen for a reason, right?
Thus begins my brand new manuscript that I was able to draft out a time-line for tonight! Woo-hoo! I’m so proud of myself that I am going to celebrate by going to bed early. I’m trying to read and write as much as I can, but I can tell when the inspiration light begins to fade and I’m out for the count.
So now the new goal will be to have this manuscript ready for submission by the end of the year. Not too crazy, right? I’m thinking that if I can keep my current momentum, then I might be able to actually be done a little sooner than that - but that’s my goal right now.
For those that wouldn’t mind sharing, I’m looking for any and all ideas that you have when dealing with writer’s block. I know you can call it so many things, but when I feel at a complete loss staring at the blank computer screen that I’m sure is mocking me, it would help to know what others have done to overcome this so I can have a backup plan.
I want to end with a quote from a man I met today, “Don’t let best get in the way of better.” Something to think about.
This was such a great read and made me think about my own writing style. Definitely know where my problem areas are and where I need to work. Thanks Kristen!
She had a wonderful workshop on the importance of a GREAT Antagonist - highly recommend!
I know it’s been a minute since my last post, but I wanted to let you know about an upcoming event that I will be attending - a Writer’s Conference in Dallas, Texas next weekend! I can’t tell you how excited I am to be able to take this opportunity to further develop my writing and to meet others like me! I want to be nervous, but I’m doing my best to harness that energy and throw it all in to my writing this week. I am working on a couple of projects right now: 1) Is an autobiographical moment in my life that I had to submit for a Nonfiction Workshop class that I am in right now; and 2) I am expanding on a short story from my below collection to hopefully create a wonderful novel. High expectations to have with just a little over a week’s time, but I think I can manage! Ha! I’ll have to let you know as time gets closer, how I am doing and if I’ve gone insane or not. Till then…
I just wanted to make clear that even though this story is written first person, it IS fiction. :) It was an exercise for class, and man it was fun to write. I am hoping to harness the power of comedy for my writing - so I hope you like it!
Life of the Party
I knew that I had made a mistake when we started spinning on the big ship in circles and I could feel that last chili cheese dog start to expand and dance in my stomach. It’s funny what you consider a mistake later that you don’t even think about in the present because at the time the chili cheese dog sounded like a good idea, great even because it came with that extra serving of gooey yellow cheese on top, which I was sure even now, contemplating some sort of mutiny with the chili in my stomach.
So, given the poor choice in food, why in the world would I have ever contemplated getting on the stupid spinning pirate ship that I knew would make me sick? Quite simply, my camp counselor, who was the hottest guy I had ever seen, was going on the ride and I didn’t want him to think that I was a baby. So, I sucked up my misgivings and hopped on board the vomit inducing ship, totally unaware that I was about to become that person that everyone fears on rides like this and that my name was about to go down in history with this camp. Had I known this, I would have gladly taken the “baby status” and watched backpacks from the sidelines. As it was now, I was doing everything I could to make sure that my lunchtime meal didn’t introduce itself to the unknowing people standing in line below us, waiting for their turn to ride the ship.
So, I was giving every ounce of energy to make sure that food didn’t come up. I guess I couldn’t be blamed that it decided to exit me a different way. Yep, out the opposite side and smushed all down my back on the last loop. So, now I am totally embarrassed and the kid next to me is crying because she has some of it in her hair, and that is the picture that they take right before we stop. (I know somewhere someone has photographic evidence of this moment.) Now, I’m still sick, so I rush off the ride and ran like hell to the ladies’ room where I could finish being sick in private. But now a dilemma, what was I going to do with my clothes? Funny that’s the next question, because the hunky camp counselor sent his girlfriend in to help me and she actually washed my shorts for me while I cleaned up as best I could at the sink. You by this time everyone is outside talking about it, I mean I made a girl cry, but I wasn’t as fazed as you might think. You know why? Because I got to borrow the hunky counselor’s extra T-shirt for the rest of the day! Ha ha!
This is another one of my class exercises where we had to develop a fictional character, but I swear the story wanted to go another way. :) I hope you like it.
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Louie and Max were sitting in their backyards that afternoon, talking to each other over the fence between their houses. The light was fading in the west, and it was their favorite time of day to be outside. The weather wasn’t too cold or too warm, and they always managed to find each other out back at the exact same time together every day, so they used this time to catch up. Their families were in the house, leaving them outside in the relative quiet. Max moved closer to the fence and spoke over to Louie, who was gazing out towards the setting sun.
“Only time of day I get any kind of peace. I swear sometimes having roommates isn’t worth the hassle of cheaper rent and food.”
Louie acknowledged this with a grunt. He hadn’t moved in the last ten minutes and he didn’t feel like walking over to the fence to talk to Max at that moment, so he stayed where he was and returned, “Not too bad today with mine. They were gone most of the day and I actually got to nap some.”
“Yeah, but yours is gone most everyday. Is she ever home anymore?”
“Not since Lisa got that new job.” Louie said. “She’s working over at the factory on the edge of town and it takes her a time to get to and from work.”
“How’s she liking the new job?” asked Max.
“She seems to enjoy it. Always talking about this guy she’s met out there, named Jim or Joe. I can’t remember. She get’s home from work and is always talking on the phone about him.”
This was news. Lisa was always talking about some new guy. “Wasn’t she seeing someone named George last week?” asked Max.
“Don’t recall. There’s been too many. There could have been a George. He obviously didn’t make a real impression seeing as how she’s excited about someone new.”
“Poor George.”
“Poor George my foot,” Louie droned on. “Every time it’s the same with her. It’s always about the first meeting and then she just seems to get bored. Don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
“So this Jim or Joe – what’s he like?”
“You know how it is when she’s talking about a new guy. He’s sweet and wonderful and she’s oh so happy,” Louie snapped with sarcasm. “Disgusting. Glad she’s not home yet, gives me some time to myself, you know?”
“Perhaps he is sweet and nice. And maybe he’s a really good guy that makes lots of money. Or maybe he’s like some king of cattle baron and brings home steak every day.” Max said.
Louie harrumphed. It wouldn’t surprise him if this Jim or Joe was another one of Lisa’s boring suitors that would be in her life for like two weeks and every time he came over would try to win him over to get on her good side. It had happened too many times before.
They both took a moment to contemplate the new guy.
“Well,” Max said, scratching behind his ears, “I need to be heading in. It sounds like it’s gotten quieter in the house and that might mean that I can eat in peace now. My roommates always leave some great leftovers for me from their dinner.”
Louie acknowledged this with a nod and Max turned around and went back to his house. Louie heard a car pull up to his house and glanced over to see Lisa pulling her car into the drive. Giving a final sigh, he lifted his leg one last time on the fence and headed back to the kitchen. Lisa probably had a nice dinner to put in his food dish since she was late. As soon as he was done eating, he fully intended to head to his pillow on the floor in Lisa’s room and go to bed, he didn’t want to hear another conversation about the great Jim or Joe.
Very graphic! I feel bad for that girl, but why is she there??
I’m sorry that I missed last week. I could tell you about the drama I dealt with, but it wouldn’t be interesting. Let’s just say that I’m glad that week is done!
This next post is actually an assignment from a class that I am taking, and I thought I would let you see it first. Let me know your thoughts, but I hope that you like it! :)
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The Closet Exercise (601 words)
It smelled like old wet gym socks. She was sure something light and furry just ran across her open toed sandals that she foolishly thought would be appropriate for today’s adventure. A loud bang could be heard from the outside, and she guessed that he was somewhere in the kitchen. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard him pop the top of his beer and throw the lid in the trash can that was apparently missing the liner since it made a loud metallic thunk as it hit the side of the can.
Attempting to count his footsteps as he marched around the house, she peered through the crack between the old wooden doors. The best that she could tell he was headed to the bathroom, but she couldn’t be sure since all she could really see was his bed which was situated in the middle of the room, with a faded quilt that she knew his sister made him years ago, hanging half off the side. The sheets were missing, though why was a mystery that she didn’t want to contemplate. He had one nightstand that was on the left side of the bed that held a single lamp with the back of the lampshade torn completely off. The window was situated at the back of the room, oddly, and the breeze coming in through the plastic blinds only made the sock smell worse. In fact, she couldn’t remember a time when his room didn’t smell like a reject from a sweaty male locker room, which was why they had spent the majority of the time at her place.
The floor of his room was the home of numerous discarded pieces of clothing, mostly old T-shirts and one or two pairs of jeans. Despite how disgusting this was, she was grateful, because if he had been neater and hung his clothes, there would have been a lot less space in his tiny closest. As it was, she was standing precariously on the edge of his gym bag that took up the entire floor space of the closet.
There wasn’t a single picture hung on the walls of his room, in fact, the only thing resembling a decoration of any kind were the sticky notes that surrounded his laptop, the only other item in the room, sitting on the center of his bed. Given a few more minutes, she would have been able to get the information that she came for and would have been gone; but as it was, she was now stuck and hoping that he wouldn’t find her.
Knock, knock, knock.
She could hear him opening the front door, and then she heard female giggling. Their voices were too quiet for her to hear anything specific, but the noises that came next left little to her imagination of the purpose of the visit.
Oh no, they were headed for the bedroom! Why couldn’t he use the couch like he did with her!
She closed her eyes just as they entered the bedroom. She didn’t need to see to know who the other woman was. She didn’t want to see, but she could do nothing to stop how she could hear every moan and slap of flesh. She did her best to cover her ears and sing in her mind, anything to pretend she didn’t know what was going on. Eventually, she just wished they would hurry up and finish. With every second that it went on she got angrier. Minutes later, she slapped her hands on the wall and opened the closet door.
Sorry that this week’s posting is a little late, folks. I would say that this week has been crazy, but when isn’t that true for everyone? I have been aggressively applying for jobs and going to interviews lately. It is almost unreal how difficult it is to get a job right now. This past week, I interviewed at a prison. What an experience! I think that opportunity exists everywhere and most often than not, it is going to be where you least expect it. I love that about life, how the road of it twists and turns, and is completely unexpected. I’m anxious to see where this next road will take me.
This weeks posting is a brief poem that I wrote a while ago, something that I have been keeping and needs a little fine-tuning. (I have a few poems similar to this, I like writing poems as they are trickier and a little more difficult.) I hope you like it.
She is a flower,
Thorny and Long,
Seeking more Sun,
Her Desire is strong.
Her beauty entitles,
Or so She believes,
The world is her rock,
The Others can leave.
Bring Water, Bring Sun,
These orders are shouted,
Do not disappoint,
Since the Flower has pouted.
And in they rush,
The Servants do bear,
These requested Gifts,
Don’t ask Her to care.
Because she is the Flower,
Her Beauty so true,
Her Reflection so bleak,
Her Soul gone too.
