Tag Archives: writer’s block

Business As Usual, Please

My dad passed away last September, although ‘passed away’ sounds too ‘death-lite’ for the actual event. If you’ve never been at the bedside of someone moving on, all I can say is, it’s probably not possible to brace yourself for the experience. Try … Continue reading

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Snooze House

Lately, instead of writing at night I’ve resorted to rising early in order to revisereviserevise certain projects and I’ve realized: The loudest sound in the house at 5am? Despite our small zoo? And the programmable coffee maker’s generous peeps? And the refrigerator … Continue reading

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Screens

Staring at  my writing, I heard what I thought was our younger cat pulverizing the bedroom window’s screen, as he does when he’d like to be let inside, despite the little Hobbiton upside-down-U’s we had cut in pertinent doors, just for … Continue reading

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Angst (Cheese & Strawberries Edition)

When you man your bookshelves for hours, reading first pages because you are maddened by your own first pages and can’t recall how to begin a story or a novel without every palabra jumping out at you with a buzzer sound … Continue reading

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April Lines

What a gift-packed month. Poetry has crammed my inbox daily. I went to a Rhapsodomancy reading at the Good Luck bar and listened to knock-you-off-your-feet lines from poets with poetry-spewing-volcanos where scalps should be. 1 day of NaPoWriMo left. So go on. Go write. You know you … Continue reading

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NaMeSiDifStarDaiWri%#*Po Week (Partial Week Edition)

Next week (because my son resumes PreK after a 2 week spring break) is National PB Sit in a Different Starbucks Daily and Write a (insert expletive) Poem Week. Well, at least monday through thursday. Actually not tuesday because that’s when I … Continue reading

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Switched Hats

All week I’ve taken a break from my children’s novels in order to scour my grownup novel—a few chapters a night. I have revised as I’ve read (of course), refusing to backtrack until I make it to The End. Or—something mostly kind … Continue reading

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Quote For The Weekend (Churchill Edition)

Anticipating the arrival of this plaque for my bedroom office so that every time I glance up from revising, whether it’s going well, or whether I’m making ghastly grammatical errors, whether my mind is filled with creative synapses, or is … Continue reading

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Dive, PB, Dive!

Funny—I looked in the mirror and there she was—deep-sea darling—my mind instantly obsessing on the Mariana Trench and how even though it’s the deepest spot on Earth I’m barely acquainted with it and how silly is that for an author revising a novel filled with … Continue reading

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Wet Beach

Pashmina fog. You can’t really write that, but–“smoky” is cliché, the cat feet brilliance is spoken for and I have a gray pashmina I never wear that is the hue and untouchable texture of  last Saturday morning’s fog. You cannot write … Continue reading

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Quotes Via Imagine

These are floating around Facebook right now thanks to Imagine Marketing. Let the Quotes For The Midweek begin! PS. I love Jennifer Egan. She was a guest at Bread Loaf when I was there and she was so friendly and … Continue reading

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Quote For The Weekend (Late Edition Due To—Due To—Hm? Wot? Is Someone Speaking? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!)

I made up my mind at the beginning of my writing life not to write about my family and friends, since I want them to remain my family and friends. Others, it seems, have come to a similar conclusion. The … Continue reading

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Quote For The Weekend (Early Edition Due To Fleeing The Heat For Environs Non-Inclusive Of Internet But Very Beauty-And-Beach-Infused, Which Means Instant Writing Angst As I Am Distracted By Natural Wonders–Although I May Surprise Myself—er, Or Surprise My Muse By Taking Her Phonecall Before It Vanishes Into Late-Night Candles, Sweetly Bubbling Fountains And Stargazing…??? Oh. Yes. I Really Need To Get Away)

“Write freely and as rapidly as possible and throw the whole thing on paper. Never correct or rewrite until the whole thing is down. Rewrite in process is usually found to be an excuse for not going on.” —John Steinbeck

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Reveries

I’ve been seeing so many people from my past lately—I mean the past past, hazy-rocketing back to elementary school and working up from there—and it’s affected my dreaming. I have hosted reunions in my dream homes, welcoming total strangers to parties … Continue reading

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Avoidance: 10:30a.m.

Terrified to read my latest revisions, terrified to admit terror to self-terrorized Self, I have: Vacuumed, cleaned the parakeet’s cage, vacuumed, watered outside, worked out (oh the lengths my terror shoves me), and almost resorted to brushing the dog. Made … Continue reading

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When I Write

I might wake up many times during any night due to: Nightmares involving fedora-wearing aliens intent on making off with my son. The certainty that I have heard a loud noise, which means rising from bed and checking my son’s room and the rest … Continue reading

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Monday Tussle

Welllllllll…Soooooooooooo…It’s one of those mornings when you use that refrain as you do a Trader Joe’s run, a shoestore run for the little guy, a Target run and a Lowe’s run because you can’t live without knowing if they have … Continue reading

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No Whining

No whining when it’s hard to write/revise because: 1. because a dog charged your cats at 6:00a.m. and in her haste to control her animal, the owner, lunging across your front yard and bashing into the wall below your kitchen … Continue reading

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Fever!

I need the sort of writing fever that allows multi-tasking. I need to be able to be ill AND revise a novel and engage the 3 year old and toss the tennis ball for the dog, fold laundry, garden (i.e. yank … Continue reading

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Poet Distracted By Whales

Had to take a break from editing Trouble. Did so by editing a new poem. It’s almost 9p.m. My spouse has once again passed out with the toddler when putting him to bed. There is nothing to distract me from editing … Continue reading

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Time (said in 3 syllables)

Currently difficult to impossible to fathom where the time is going, has gone. October nearly vanished, we are actually moving into the hyper-acceleration months of November and December, when Thanksgiving and Christmas bleed into one and my son turns 3. Another year … Continue reading

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Writing Companion

Sometimes Julian joins me in my bed office, keeps an eye on me while I fuss with the keyboard, picks at his rope, emits charming whistles. He’s a good listener when I read a draft out loud—although my voice seems to make … Continue reading

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New Workings

Depending on who you talk to (my spouse, Facebook, my infernal muse, ABC.com…) I am working on a new poem. As proof, and in danger of ex-ing myself from the writing genre, here are some lines from this new poem … Continue reading

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Type Type Type

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A Tad Froggy

This is me right now. Not well seen. Murky on the outside. Rough. Blug. Frozen in dubious water. Were it not for the toddler, I would be an exact copy of the frog fish in the photo, only atrophied. I … Continue reading

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