Five Things I Do When I’ve Got Writer’s Block

It happens to all of us: writer’s block. You sit down to write and nothing happens. Or garbage happens. Words that limp across the page to die in one wheezing breath. The kind of garbage you don’t feel can be revamped into anything cool. What do you do? Well, I can’t say these methods will work for you, but this is what I do to move forward.

  1. I switch stories, even genre-hop. Tired of writing gushy romances? Maybe it’s time to switch to horror and go for gushes of blood. Or vice versa. Sometimes, I need a cuddle after killing off so many characters. I’m a bad, bad person but bad people need love, too.
  2. I edit what I’ve got. Sometimes, just polishing what I’ve already written will spark back the old writing flame. Not only will I love writing again, but usually I’ll find a new angle I didn’t think of before and will pick up where I left off.
  3. Time to do some marketing. I always say I don’t have enough time to market myself because I’m too busy writing. So, when the creative juices aren’t flowing, I knuckle down and market myself in some way. In my case, I started the process of getting a website together. I looked again at my Amazon Author’s Page and know it needs a little more than the bare bones info I gave it. Maybe I need to make a few more posts on Twitter with #writing attached.
  4.  Time to do some research. Whether it’s learning how to market myself, reading samples of how to write the perfect pitch, or finding the literary agent who can best represent my work, I use my downtime by getting lost in Google.
  5. Take a break. Sometimes, I need to recover from burning myself out on writing. I typically will either read a book or watch a movie that’s closely related to my manuscript. Again, this is to rejuvenate my interest in my work and possibly inspire a new idea into my theme. However, taking a break is a tricky thing to do during writer’s block. All too often, I get suckered into taking too long of a break. So, if you’re like me, set a time limit on when you’ll get back to writing again. A day usually does the trick, but no more than a weekend. Then, ready or not, I work on one of the stories in my “to-be-finished” pile.

There you have it: the five things I do to combat writer’s block. What’s on your list?

 

 

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I Have a Domain Name!

That’s right. I finally buckled down and bought rebeccarpierce.com so I can start the process of having a professional website and look like a serious author. (I hate that phrase “serious author.” I can crack jokes while being ambitious, right? It just conjures to mind someone of a stodgy disposition and that is SO not me.)

Because I want it to look nice, I’m saving up to hire a professional web designer to do it, too. (Plus I know nothing of SEOs and whatnot. Remember my post about how technology isn’t my friend? Yes, this is why I need a tech wizard to help me. And as far as I can see, my friend is Harry Potter.) To help give him an idea of what it is I want, I polished up my own Wix site. If you want to see what I’ve got so far, you can view it here. The poetry section is empty at the moment, but if you check back later, I should have at least three poems up.

Anyway, some exciting changes are in the air. Ooh, I can’t wait!

“I Woke Up in a Cage This Morning”

“I Woke Up in a Cage This Morning”

 

I woke up in a cage this morning.

Couldn’t breathe. Even the air

Felt trapped and recycled

Heavy and stale from too much care.

We’re broken under all that weight,

All that wait.

My heart tick-tocks like grandma’s clock

Wound-up tight until it just can’t take

It anymore. An alarm sounds

Just like a scream.

I bury myself under pillows, trying to disappear

Back inside a dream

Where I’m not me, and I’m not air

But I’m the cage and the gate and the key

So somehow there I can learn to be free.

“Seams to Be”

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“Seams to Be”

Late at night, cracking my head on a pillow,

My thoughts spill out like a runny egg:

All fragmented and sorry

With how I  should have spent my time.

 

My bones feel heavy yet hollow,

Like I’ve fallen wind chimes for arms and legs

Laid out under a starry

Sky, all misaligned.

 

I used to pray because I believed.

Now I pray because I want to.

It’s hard to sleep when you’re

So far from your dreams

 

And so jaded you’re almost relieved

When they’re not there to haunt you

Lying in bed, wishing there was more

While Fate picks apart at your seams.

Poetry Publication News

I’ve already made this announcement yesterday on Facebook, but since I need to test my auto post function from WordPress to Facebook anyway, here it is again:

Four of my poems, “The Moon and the Sea,” “Slow Burn,” “Breadth of Life,” and “In the End” have been accepted for publication in Our Write Side’s Primal Elements Anthology! I’m so excited. As you may have guessed, one poem represents water, fire, air, and earth. For being my test subjects, I’ll go on and tell you a little more about them.

“The Moon and the Sea” is about that first flush of love, the twisting, gnawing, yearning one feels when love is new. “Slow Burn” is appropriately the opposite of the water-themed poem. It’s fire is about mature love, the kind that lasts until the moment of death. “Breadth of Life” is self-explanatory, but its title is a play on words. (Breath of life. Get it?) And my earth poem, “In the End,” is about death but specifically about death through war. (Extra, extra tidbit here: “In the End” was inspired by the song “Price of a Mile” by Sabaton. )

Anyway, thanks for reading and sharing in my good news. Until next time…

Technology is Not My Friend

While I love technology, it’s become apparent to me that the feeling isn’t mutual. I swear machines laugh at me when I approach and lately, to be honest, I feel bullied. There are just too many buttons with too many menus that lead to even more options. And then, just when I think I’ve figured it all out, along comes an update and I’m humped, having to relearn it all from the beginning. I know, I know, they have these wonderful “What’s New” pages for me to read and with the internet at my fingertips, I could look this all up but who has the time?

Anyway, this post is mainly to figure out how to get my blog to auto-post to my Facebook Author’s Page because lately, it’s not been acting right. It used to do it just fine–and WordPress diligently posts all of my entries to Twitter so I know WordPress is fine. So that leaves me glaring at Facebook with a raised eyebrow. What have you done, Facebook? Or maybe it’s me. Who knows what I unchecked and/or checked? Either way, bear with me yet again as technology and I face-off. I’m drawing a deep breath as I roll up my sleeves, knowing I’m about to get my ass beat again.

“Sidestepping on a Moonlit Beach”

“Sidestepping on a Moonlit Beach”

The pulse of shushing waters quakes again

And retreats.

The earth sifts upwards and aside.

Out climbs the many-legged shell,

Its tendrils tap the air, clicking,

Making fire to unheard music.

Dancing on shifting sands,

This lover, with arms raised,

Cannot quite embrace

The heavenly white crab he thinks he sees.

He digs himself once more in the sand

Where salty disappointment buries him.

 

author’s note: on occasion, I write poetry. Last night, while battling a little insomnia, these words came to me. I don’t usually indulge in free verse (since I consider myself bad at it), but for some reason this poem wanted to be written. This actually turned out decent so I’m sharing it with you. :*

“The First Kiss of Spring”

“The First Kiss of Spring”

 

The trees, flowering, fragrant, and heavy

With birds and bees borne within their boughs,

Made a splendid home for such a bevy

Where love and labor exchange their vows.

 

Upon sun-honeyed sweet songs, they carouse.

And butterflies stretch from papery wombs;

Trumpets of daffodils wake and arouse

The sleeping dreamers to their gold-filled blooms.

 

When heaven aloft softly bends to kiss

The green grass, no other seasons exist.

In Search of a Literary Agent

I began the process of finding a literary agent today. After sending out my first query letter, my nerves are shot. I don’t know if I want to cry and then vomit, cry while vomiting, or just pass out altogether. As if the fear of rejection isn’t reaching its all-time high, Impostor Syndrome rears its ugly head and my subconscious becomes verbally abusive toward me. I’m scared.

I’m scared, but I’m doing it, anyway. Putting yourself out there for judgment is frightening work, but it has to be done and I’m glad I can just click a mouse and send my audition in via email, form letter, or snail mail these days instead of having to meet someone face to face for an interview. God, I think I’d freeze if that were the case. Or maybe I’d stammer it out until I become so used to the process that the shaking stills. I guess the point I’m tap dancing around is that it doesn’t matter how you feel so long as you keep trying. Eventually, all this practice pays off and you’ll get it right. We’ll all get it right in the end and that applies to anything you have set in your mind to do.

Rejection may come again and again, but I can’t reject myself by not trying. If I don’t leave these familiar grounds, I’ll never learn to fly. And I really, really want to fly.