Sunday, August 18, 2013 1 words I am thankful for

Writer's Block and Other Stuff

I am way over due for a poem but it is a situation where I was forced into a break by poetry writer's block. It stands boldly between my mind and the pen saying "No, you may not write a verse, or two, or three." So I don't, instead words swarm around in my head in the form of longer works, stories to be specific.

It's something like what happened when I wrote Martine, the words flowed like water in a stream. Either I sit on the bank and watch it pass me by or I follow it to see where it goes. I chose to follow it. It started with an erotic suspense with the lead character falling in love with a cleric. I'm still writing that although it has reached a bottle neck as to the direction it will go.

Then I had the idea for the continuation of Bianca, which is the follow up to Martine. I had started the story, but I got stuck and then one day I got unstuck, I still have to find the original draft and continue writing. The idea that came to mind was so delicious that I actually got excited and goose pimply.

Earlier this week, I was driving from Parham (in the east of Antigua) to Villa (in the north west). As I drove I could see the hills to the south and badda bing, badda boom, another story unraveled itself. This one is about a survivor of a zombie apocalypse set in Antigua. She wakes up in Parham with no memory of who she is and she is guided for a while by a older man who gives her the name of his dead daughter.

It doesn't end there folks, oh no. This morning I started writing a short story called The Nymph of the Forest. Another erotica with a magical feel. I am still not sure where this idea came from, all I know is my mind worked out the plot by the time I sat down and wrote the first 4-5 pages.

So here is the deal, it is only recently (within the last couple of years) that I consider myself a poet, and even though I wrote Martine, Little Red Hoodie and as you can see from above, I have a few more stories in me, I don't see myself as a writer. Oh yeah, and I have an erotic fiction on Literotica. I guess because I didn't study, or take the courses or workshops to become a writer. I haven't put in my 10,000 hours. I just write.

Plus it doesn't help that I have the mindset that you have to be doing something tangible, where people see your effort, you toiling on a process and seeing a result. When I'm seen writing by hand or working on the computer, I get the impression that I'm perceived as doing nothing of merit. Perhaps that is the area where I have to work on not caring what people think.

Whenever I think of how I want to spend the rest of my days, I see myself with a house with a wrap around verandah. At times, I would go out on a hot day or a cool night and I would sit in a comfy chair and write. Let the words flow and be who I'm supposed to be, the crafter of tales. And yet, I don't feel that is possible. I could never become James Patterson or Stephen King or Anne Rice, but if someone could read one of my stories and enjoy it, I could live with that.

Five, ten years ago, if I was told that I was going to be working on building a body of work centered around the written word, I would say "No way!" But now there is a very strong possibility, now I feel like I'm coming into my own, but the last piece in the puzzle is believing that I can do it. That is what the following pic is for.

Friday, August 9, 2013 0 words I am thankful for

Looking Back

I looked back at her
And through the mist,
I could not recognize her.

She used to be my everything,
The sun that drenched
Me with warmth
When the cold chilled
My bones.

She used to mean
The world to me
And I trusted her
With everything
I held dear.

But now,
She is a memory
Fading into the darkness
Of my past.

Every now and then
I would look back,
And every time,
It was harder to see her.

It was harder to see
The person I was,
The person I used to be.
Friday, August 2, 2013 1 words I am thankful for


Patiently waiting
For the doctor to
Return with the results.

Waiting for my life
To continue or quickly
Unravel and forever
Become undone.

I've waited before,
Every test known
To me having been
Done and still I'm

Before I would be
Worried, scared,
Anxious, but that was

Now, I'm
Impatient and want
To get it over with.
I want to know
And move pass this.

Whatever this is.
Then again,
This is life.