Let it Go: A Writer’s Enema

       Writing, blogging, hunting and peck typing….they are all related.  There are words on the page, right?  Yes, there are.  So I am writing.  That is half the battle with writers block.  Just sit down and type.  Type random thoughts at the top of your head and let them flow on the screen.  Who said it had to be perfect?  Me.   That is why a lot of things get backspaced and deleted into oblivion, simply because letting just anything flow on the page often ends up looking like raw sewage.  It stinks…BAD.  Where is the industrial size can of Febreeze when you need it?

        What amazes me is then a person puts that raw sewage out there.  You fan the stench by sharing it on every social media platform known to man hoping, against hope, that some sorry bastard will be curious, follow that link, and read it, and maybe even form enough of an opinion to actually comment on it.  Deep down in your heart, you know it is raunchy and crusty.  You know or believe it sucks.  Still you post it anyways just to prove you can.  You wax poetic.   You post it because, honestly, that is all you got! Wonders of wonders, folks stop in and read the raw sewage that flowed out of your brain and actually comment.  If you are like me, you try to avoid the ole inbox because deep down you know what you wrote was shit, the simple ramblings from a very foggy brain, but you still want people to LIKE your shit.   Your inbox fills up to overflowing.  Amazed you simply can’t resist going there and reading what they have to say about what you wrote.  You HAVE to know.

 
           At that point, if you are me, you become hopelessly confused.  Do these people actually LIKE shit or are they just being polite? Have they bought into that ‘say something nice or don’t say anything at all’ that you have been spoon fed since birth and follow it to a tee?  They know it is shit, you know it is shit, but still they spout that “this is so poignant, so brilliantly written BS” and you know what?  You buy it.  You want to believe the fairytale that your writing is actually good.   You so desperately want people to get you.  Understand where you are coming from, that you thank them, are unbelievably floored by their amazing comments, and rush right out with your dreams and heart on your sleeve and write more drivel once again.

                It is a vicious cycle, I tell you!   Lately it has driven me up the proverbial wall.  So far up, that I am in danger of plunging off and shattering into a million pieces, much like Humpty Dumpty.  Quickly checking to make sure I am not really SHAPED like him.  No, no I am not.  At least, I am not shaped like that YET.    Then there is the question, if I can have this much diarrhea of the brain spewing forth onto the computer screen…am I truly blocked after all?  Am I just a sorry lazy ass?  Do I need the metaphorical enema to spew forth a piece of writing which is actually entertaining and brilliantly written?  Obviously, yes, yes I do… because the bottom line is…I AM full of shit.  You know it, I know it, and everybody knows it.

         With that said, how do you battle that dreaded writer’s block that leaves you panicked, pissed off, and feeling despondent? 

       1. Write!!  Something, anything.  Let that raw sewage flow.  Let it go!!! Don’t hold back anymore.  It is no fun being constipated.  Let it spew forth and free you! 

2. Don’t worry.  Be happy!

3.  Laugh!  Giggle until you pee your pants, your belly hurts, and fluids are leaking from every known orifice then transfer that unbridled glee to that blank screen.  Let people THINK you drink hair spray and you are bat shit crazy if that is what does it for you and then write that shit down!!  God knows, you must document this moment, if for no other reason than because you can.

4.  Read.  Yes, you heard me.  Read other people’s work.  If they can write it, so can you!

5. Believe in yourself.  That is one I have to work on big time.  Believe you can instead of believing you suck and can’t.

6.  Last but not least, if you got nothing after all that, walk away for a while.  If you are not feeling it, don't force it.  Sleep, drink, eat, and be merry doing something else.  When you come back refreshed, you may be surprised to find your words have returned with you.  Start back at square one and let those pigeons loose.  Let it go!

     Before you know it, writer’s block will be a thing of the past.

Essence of Writing Haiku

compose and create

electrify intellect

impress hearts and souls

Written for the "Write Tribe on Wednesday" prompt.  

 In honor and in memory of the phenomenal work of 

Maya Angelou (April 4, 1928-May 28, 2014). 

 While she said many quotes over the course of her lifetime that resonated with me, 

I was to choose my favorite about writing and allow it to inspire me as a writing prompt.

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Key Haiku

Courtesy of Morgue File

explore mysteries

unleash possibilities

keys reveal answers

 Written for the Write Tribe Wednesday picture writing prompt.

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He Was Too Late

       With pain etched across his features Ben typed the letter, emptying all the pent up feelings he had kept guarded for so long.  He was tired of the lies and the duplicity.  He was tired of trying to be someone he was not.  He was tired of being ridiculed for who he was.  They didn’t want a son who was artistic and gay.  They wanted a perfect athlete and a home town hero everyone wanted to emulate.  They wanted someone worthy of their love that they could brag about at church.  Instead they had gotten him.

     As the sun set and the shadows fell he printed out his final letter.  He shut down the computer one last time and quickly reread his last plea for understanding and acceptance.  With a sad and determined resignation he loaded the gun he had bought last week, aimed, and fired extinguishing all the hurt and frustration he had experienced his whole life trying to live up to their ideal.

        An hour later Ben’s parents arrived home excited to see their only son.   His mother loved her baby no matter what direction he took with his life and encouraged her husband to accept Ben for who he was.  A hard pill to swallow, but he did love his son.  He just had to make a point of accepting him as he was and showing him that he loved him no matter what.  He planned to tell him as soon as he saw him setting things right and starting their relationship fresh with more love and understanding on his part.   The bottom line was that he loved his son, gay or not, and it was high time he told him and started acting like it.  To his horror, he was too late.

This is my entry for the Write Tribe Wednesday writing prompt:

 "He was too late."

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Deciphering the Puzzle

       

      The coroner had already taken Amy’s body away.  Surely her next of kin had been notified by now and summoned to identify the body at the morgue.    Hours later the detectives were still at the scene gathering evidence.  In her bedroom they found a bouquet of roses with a card signed only “We will be together someday my love.” On the mussed bed were many used tissues. Either the deceased had a cold or someone had upset her enough to unleash a flood of tears.   Perhaps dear Amy was a player in a love triangle and one of the corners had collapsed.  Murder scenes were always a puzzle.  If only they could understand her life, her daily movements, and question those she was close too perhaps they could put the pieces together and bring her killer to justice.  Whatever had happened to Amy, she had met an unexpected end.  Perhaps she had gambled, took a chance of not being discovered, and lost.  Phillip loved the details. He had always He loved taking the facts and clues and piecing them together to discover the whys.  Sure his job could be a bit grisly at times, but that was the nature of it.  It was exciting, and sad.  Sad that a life could be cut short so violently to a person who should have grown old and died in bed with her loved ones gathered near instead of like this.

      She deserved to have someone bring her killer to justice and to avenge for the loss of her life and the dreams she harbored.  That is why he took on this job in the first place. He loved putting pieces together.  He had loved puzzles as a kid.  His apartment was filled with framed puzzles he had conquered over the years.  True, solving those puzzles did little more than decorate his apartment but the puzzles he dealt with and solved on a day to day basis caught killers and got them off the street.  It stopped them from killing again.  It brought justice.  It made him feel like a hero.  Life is like a jigsaw puzzle, you have to see the whole picture then put it together piece by piece.  Inevitably fate takes its course but it is always a small comfort to those left behind to have answers to all the whys.  That is why he dealt with the blood and the gore day after day…in the hopes that once the puzzle of evidence is collected and assembled that the whole picture could be understood and justice could rule the day.  

     This story was written for the Write Tribe Wednesday prompt.  
     This week's prompt was the quote:

"Life is like a jigsaw puzzle, you have to see the whole picture then put it together piece by piece." 

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She Looked the Most Beautiful...

      He watched her primping in the mirror and making faces at herself.  “It is hopeless.  I look the same no matter what I do to myself.  Nothing helps!!”  She applied lipstick, ran her hands through her hair with a dab of gel, scrunched her nose again and twirled to face me.  “I am as ready as I am going to get! Let’s go!”  Out the door we went her hand in mine.  I smiled as she giggled, taking her place in the driver’s seat.   “I’ll drive!” she announced with a devilish grin.  She put the top down and cranked the radio full blast before speeding onto the road that followed the coastline.  Music filled the interior as she started bopping to the beat, singing along to the music with conviction.

      She happily let the wind wreak havoc on her hair.  She hardly resembled the girl that had primped, worried, and fretted in front of the mirror moments before.  All thought of perfecting her hairstyle was lost in the pure exhilarated joy of feeling the wind toss her unruly locks as we sped along.    It was pretty obvious thoughts of being self-conscious about her looks were long gone.  She was too busy having the time of her life singing along to the music and entertaining me with her endless chatter.   As long as the mirror couldn’t taunt her with its reflection, she forgot what only she could see within it.    Her lovely, generous personality came forward and she shined.  With her smile brighter than the sun, her soul truly sparkling through her laugh, smile, and the twinkle in her eyes, she mesmerized me.   If only she knew how much I truly loved her!  It was then that she looked the most beautiful to me.

       

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I See You

     She thought he had seen David slap her after the wedding rehearsal.  She hoped not.  She didn’t want anyone to know.   He had only hit her once before.  She had explained the bruises away to her own clumsiness and everyone had bought it.   Now he refused to attend the rehearsal dinner with her.  Instead he would rather go smoke a joint with the best man and get drunk than be with her and face the family.  What was she getting herself into?  She wanted to run away but her parents had spent so much money already on the wedding.    Her mother insisted she would be happy once she was married.  After all, David’s family was at the pinnacle of society.  She could hear her mother say it and see the excitement in her eyes as she said it.  The mental image made her physically ill.  She simply wasn’t as sure.  She didn’t drink.  She didn’t do drugs.  She was certain she didn’t love him and perhaps she never had.  Wouldn’t it be better to be alone than saddled with someone who deep down she feared?

       She put on a brave face and joined her family, making excuses for him.  She was always making excuses for him.  She was marrying into a good family.  Her future husband was successful and everyone told her they were so happy for her and that her future looked so bright.    The day of her wedding dawned bright.   There was a flurry of activity all around her as she got ready.  Her gown was beautiful, the flowers exquisite.   She knew she should be happy, but all she wanted was to run away.  Too much money had been spent.  Too many people were waiting in the sanctuary.  She simply couldn’t back out, no matter how uneasy and unsure she felt about going through with the marriage.  Her mother would never forgive her.  What would everyone say?  She would never be able to hold her head up in public again.

         It was time.  Her daddy entered the room and smiled brightly.  “You look so beautiful!” he said as he embraced her.  It was only the two of them.  Everyone else had left to take their places.  He looked into her eyes and took her hand.  “You know you don’t have to do this.”  Startled, she looked at her father, really looked at him.  His eyes were endless pools of blue and she felt his gaze touch her soul.  He knew.  She knew he did.  She started to deny her feelings and lie.  She began to tell him she was fine and everything would be wonderful.  Then she saw the look in his eyes.  “I saw him hit you last night.”  She looked at him panic stricken and he rushed to reassure her.  “Even if I hadn’t I have seen that you are not happy and will never be happy with him.   Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye.  ”   Hearing those words spoken aloud caused her to crumble against him.  “Oh Daddy, all that money on the wedding!!” she exclaimed.     He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys.  “You go; I will clean things up here.  Don’t worry my dear, everything will be alright.  I want you happy and safe.  Your prince charming is out there somewhere waiting for you.  Trust me; this one is not the one no matter how much money he has.”  He hugged her again and with one final glance, she hurried away.  He adjusted his tie, and went to announce that his little girl wouldn’t be getting married today and to thank everyone for coming.

This fictional story was written for the 

Write Tribe Wednesday writing prompt "Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye."

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The Shoe

 
     I am running behind.  Well then, I am always running behind!  Now that Brittney has figured out how to take her shoes off she hides them everywhere.  She thinks it is a game.  I think it is a pain in the ass.  Especially when we need to be at her doctor’s appointment in less than an hour and I never have the foresight to lay out her outfit and shoes the night before.     When will I learn to put her shoes up out of her reach?  Think!  Where in the hell can they be?  She is so oblivious playing with her toys and singing to herself.  OK, if I were her and a precocious 3 year old what would I do with my shoes? 




       I decide to rule out the places that are wild first.  I peer in the toilet bowl at the clear water, rush to the refrigerator and search among the pickles, hot dogs, and cheese.  I am beginning to freak out!  I glance at the clock, at my precious little darling and decide to ask her.  Who knows, maybe she will actually tell me! Ha!  “Brittney, honey, do you know where your shoes are?  Can you show Mommy?”  She looks up at me with her innocent eyes, smiles her sweet smile, and says “I left them for the Prince to find!”  Great!  I continue my search exasperated.  She is 3, what bloody nonsense is she talking about?  No princes live here!   I don’t have time for this crap!!  The clock is ticking.  I have to make it across town on time or they will reschedule plus charge me for missing the damn appointment!


         Frantic, I begin searching the cupboards.  Who knows?  Maybe her prince is there?  Brittney ambles out to the kitchen singing “Hey Diddle Diddle” when I notice she is actually wearing one of her shoes.  Sweet mother of God!  “Honey, do you know where your other shoe is?  It is really important that we find it!!”  She looks at me with a sideways glance and smiles.  “Don’t you ‘member where Cinderella left her shoe after the ball Mommy?”  I stop what I am doing and stare at my baby while understanding slowly dawns.  My mouth drops.  I read her “Cinderella” last night before bed.  Holy shit!  I am running late and she has me living a flipping fairy tale!   

       I rush out to the dining room and glance out the glass sliding doors to the patio where she had played earlier while I drank my morning dose of caffeine and there almost glowing in the morning sunlight is my daughter’s shoe!!  I make a beeline for the shoe while grabbing my purse, pick up my sweet baby, lock the patio door,   and sprint to my car.  I glance at my watch as I buckle her into her car seat, put on her shoe, and give her a toy to occupy her for the ride.  I still have time!! Breathe!!   As I back out of the driveway, I glance in the rear view mirror and see myself for the first time and really register what I look like.   My hair looks uncombed; however my face is washed clean.  With a grimace, I comb my fingers through my unruly locks.  Screw it!  I am late as it is!  After all, it doesn’t matter what I look like, they are seeing her, right?   I glance back at her playing happily.  She looks completely adorable.  I continue on down the street toward our appointment which I will be able to make with no time to spare.



This completely fictional story from the depths of my imagination was written in response to the Write Tribe Wednesday writing prompt.  This weeks prompt is a picture prompt courtesy of Vidya Sury.

         

It’s a Small World

       We stood in line in the blazing hot sun waiting our turn to board the ride.  So far our day had been pure magic; at least when the lines were moving and we could finally experience the attractions first hand.  We had pooled our money for years, scrimping and saving so that we could take this one family vacation of a lifetime before the kids were grown.

         As we progressed closer to the entrance and inside, I noticed that the lady ahead of me in line looked remarkably familiar.    I knew her from somewhere, but where?  I racked my brains.  None of the people with her seemed familiar at all.  I didn't know her from school, I'm sure of that.   I happen to be thousands of miles away from home in a magical kingdom that surely does draw people from all walks of life and across the globe, but still.  Anything was possible.  If only I could place her and remember where had I seen her!

       The lady turned and for a brief instant, our eyes met.  Her eyes widened with recognition then clouded over with the same uncertainty that my own face must have shown, and then widened again.  

       “Kathy, is that you?  You are the giggling trucker’s wife from the internet!!  I would know you anywhere!!"

       She lunged forward embracing me in a huge bear hug.  My mind was working overtime.  I knew her from the internet.  My mind began to clear.  I was friends with her on face book.  She read my blog and commented often, practically every single post.  I hugged her back, while she gushed how much she enjoyed my writing, how much she felt we were kindred spirits and that she could relate.   It was time to board the ride.  Who would have imagined that coming to Disney World would allow me to actually meet someone who visited my site so often, commented so regularly, that I would begin to feel this person was a true friend except simply a name in cyberspace?  Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I would cross paths and actually meet one of those random names who had become so familiar and welcome.  Her family and mine climbed into the same boat as she introduced me to her family and I reciprocated.

  

        My heart thrilled and I felt overwhelmed.   As our boat began to move, the familiar song began to play “It’s a Small World”.   I felt all warm and fuzzy inside.  It truly was a small world after all and I immediately felt blessed.

Note:  This is a completely fictional story created from the depths of my imagination for the Write Tribe Wednesday writing prompt.  While it is possible that it could happen someday, it hasn't happened in reality yet and isn't likely too.  Still it could, one never knows what each day will bring and it is a small world, after all.  Anything is possible!

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