Shattering my writer’s block.

 

I started writing fan fiction six months ago just to fine tune my writing for a bit.

Everything seemed to be going pretty well.

I was receiving positive feed back and good constructive criticism.

Then all of a sudden, I was stopped in my tracks by writer’s block.

It seemed like no matter what I wrote it did not flow properly. I made the decision

to set my work aside. I started playing Sims 3.

I also started reading Under The Dome by Stephen King.

Out of the blue, a month ago my muse came back.

It took me nearly a month to finish my newest chapter but….I did it.

Here I am smiling and jumping for joy.

Thank God for music.

It always seems to kickstart my imagination every time.

If anyone is suffering from Writer’s block look for something anything that will rekindle that spark.

Don’t give up.

It happens to the best of us.

As long as you believe in what you are doing that is all that matters.

 

The writer’s soundtrack

My good old iPod!!

I find that listening to music helps me out a lot while I am writing.

Author Stephenie Meyer revealed that she used music from a band called Muse to help her creativity.

It worked out well for her so I gave it a try.

 Music has always been therapeutic in my life.

I have a song that brought me through the lowest and highest times in my life.

I have an eclectic taste in music which makes my iPod filled with a wide variety of artists.

My music has a way of clearing out the smoke from my daily brain fog.

It awakens my imagination in such a way that I find myself sitting at a computer typing until the “break of dawn”.

The shuffle mode on an iPod is fantastic and whomever created it was a genius.

It does wonders for my writer’s block.

Bloody Romance: short story excerpt

This is an excerpt of a short story called Bloody Romance.

I have been working on this for nearly two years.

Feedback is welcome and encouraged.

Bloody Romance

Samuel Jones sits at his kitchen table reading the front page of the New York Times. An article on the economy catches his eye. It is something about the stock market. For the moment it has his attention one hundred percent. The sun is almost invisible outside on his left side above stainless sink fixtures that were installed a week prior. They go perfectly with marble countertop. The cellular phone hidden in his pocket vibrates nearly seven times before it went to voice mail. This is the second cell phone that he brought in the past year. The last one cracked in his fist after the accident.

His bronze skin shimmers under the fluorescent light in the ceiling. The waves in his brown hair hung down to his shoulders. It was a good time to cut his hair. Yet, he had not had the time. A hunger built inside of him. The words on the page grew blurry. Normally, he raids the refrigerator but, it was more than that. He desired something else but, was unsure of what. Up out of the chair, he rose abandoning the paper on the table.
Through the living room, he travels across the soft fabric of the rug with his bare feet trailing. It was the one his mom helped him pick out. It was the only thing that did not clash with his beige walls and sand colored furniture. Up a flight of steps, he turns to the right and made his way up a hallway towards a lone door. The smell of lavender and honeysuckle enters his nose. He grips the door knob with his right hand and slowly opening the door not making a sound.

A young woman is bent over with her back to him tucking the end of a cranberry comforter into a mattress. The sound of her heartbeat begins to mesmerize him. He watches her smoothing out the spread. Dark ebony hair hangs to the nape of her neck. A crimson glow kisses the cinnamon hue on her bare arms and legs. She wears an emerald sun dress and silver sandals on her feet. Upon realizing that someone is looking at her, she pauses turning around. A look of concern washes over her face as she sees who it was.

“Is anything wrong,” she asked. Sam shakes his head with a sigh He folds his muscular arms over his chest. He is wearing a dark-colored tank top and black jeans that hangs low on his hips. The woman starts to ask him another question but, before she can finish her sentence his hands are around her forearms. The initial shock sets in as she stares into his blue-green eyes. A single tear falls from her eyes as she swallows.
Her heart pounds as he leans in placing his cheek against hers. The feeling makes her uncomfortable. Something is not right; she feels it in her gut. A first instinct is to try to break away from him and run. However, there is no telling how he would react. So, she stays still as Sam rubs his cheek against hers.

“It will be alright,” Sam said attempting to calm her. He runs his hands up to her shoulders and caresses her soft skin. Gently, he wipes away all of her tears. “Don’t cry, Laurie,” he says. A faint scent wafts through her pores along with the sweat that gathered at the small of her back. His eyes follow a glistening trail of sweat as it slid down her chest in-between her breasts and disappeared down lower. What he would give to follow it further down.

All of a sudden he winces as a pair of fangs tore through his gums. The feeling is excruciating as the teeth lowered filling his mouth with the bitter taste of his own blood. It is something that he will eventually become use to or so he told himself. He then swallows down the blood and it absorbs into his system. His pale pink lips part which reveals his sharp teeth as he lets out a sigh. Laurie stares in horror unable to understand what she sees. Her fear makes the blood within her veins pound. The sound was like the rhythm to a song. It is almost like an ominous melody that leads to a climax or a character’s early death. He shuts his eyes and listened to it allowing himself to slip into a trance. As he sways slightly, Laurie stares at him. There is no telling what he is going to do to her.

His eyes open slowly as Sam starts taking shallow breaths. A glazed over look is present. The hunger within takes control forcing his hand as he turns Laurie’s face to the right. Her jugular vein pulsates under her skin. Slowly, he traces his lips with his tongue as saliva builds in his mouth. One quick strike and he will be satisfied. For her, the pain will be excruciating and a small wound left on her throat.
Sam is fully aware that by doing so he will lose a very valuable person. She came to work for him a year ago. She agreed to work for him until her father’s debt was expunged. In exchange, he would shelter her. It is not her fault that he has been bitten. Nor was it her fault that he happens to be a shut in. The sunlight became his kryptonite that he avoids at all costs. His time of feeding is always late. Usually, his victims are women but, sometimes men. He makes it a point not to discriminate. Blood is blood. Each taste is different some bitter most sweet. Yet, Laurie’s blood is what would calm him.

“This won’t hurt a bit,” he replied, “I promise.”

Never give up

One dilemma that I have regarding my writing is ending a piece. I have written a dozen stories that I truly believe in but, the ending is the hardest part. One piece I have been working on for nearly fifteen years is one that I want to have published. I added so much to it that I am wondering when I should end it. I also have two stories that will make decent short stories once I buckle down at end them. I am sure that my characters will be overjoyed at this fact.

The reason why I feel this way about my writing has to do with some negative criticism that I received from a “friend” nearly ten years ago. I thought that she supported me but, I learned that behind closed doors, she laughed at me. Her words crippled me for so long that I thought about giving up. I assumed that my work was not good enough. However, a part of me has this tenacity to go on. It refused to let me walk away from something amazing. I could not possibly listen to one voice. I am still growing as a writer to this day because of my tenacity. I refused to give up on what I created.

Due to this new-found, fearlessness I began to write fan fiction. I use this outlet to end my writer’s block. It has helped more than I could imagine. I like writing about characters that I love.

I am working on going back for a Creative Writing MFA for the sake of continuing my education. I wanted to study something that I liked a lot. The fact that I have a Bachelor’s degree in Writing made me even more eager. The only thing that I have to worry about is how to put my mind back into a learning mode after being out of school for a few years. But, I will not have to worry about that until 2014.

All that I can say is just because one person does not like or understand your work does not mean that you should give up. Never stop writing because there is an audience out there for everything.

To quote one of my favorite lines from the movie Inception: ” You mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling”.

My writing muse and me.

R2D2

R2D2

 

There is something that all writers share that I acquired in the past fifteen years a muse or some form of inspiration..

I liken this individual to an episode of Supernatural ( I really like that show)..

One of the characters Dean Winchester made a deal with the devil at a crossroad.

This entity appeared to him in the form of the type of woman that he desired.

The only difference is that I my muse is not evil.

He is a tad bit demanding but, never less a rather generous part of my imagination.

He comes and goes.

There are times when he makes himself available at moments when I can not find a pen or pencil.

He opens up like a flower at three am.

Sometimes my muse disappears for a few weeks only to return stronger and more inspiring.

Recently, I have given him a vacation but, not for long.

There are two pieces that I have to finish soon so he’ll be back.