Until I can provide a satisfying answer to the question “Why do you want to be a writer?” I will be on hiatus.
I went through a similar experience last Saturday. Though I decided to re-evaluate where I am, it’s nice to have some strategies to pick yourself up again. Also: I need a dog.
Be sure to check out the rest of Deborah Lee Luskin’s work!
What to do when words fail to come? It happens sometimes. Yesterday morning, in fact. I had a post due on Living In Place, and I didn’t have anything to say. Worse, my brain was foggy, possibly due to the antihistamine I succumbed to the night before. Or maybe it’s my broken sleep cycle. I’ve […]
I’m considering the creation of a flash fiction series for Word Salad Spinner, where I write a 250 word story then expound on how the story can teach you about writing. With Flash 365, I have a good model for such a story. The author captures the feeling of not connecting with people only a few years younger than you. It’s easygoing, but also engaging. A perfect model for me, perhaps?
I stand in my little brother’s dorm room, visiting. It’s been almost a decade since I’ve sat in one of my own. He is working on some school project or another. I am cooking dinner. My brother’s phone buzzes. He looks at it then yells, “Yeah, come in!” The door opens and some late teen […]
“Those Who Leave Everything In God’s Hands Will Eventually See God’s Hand In Everything,” Part 1
MAN 1, facing away from audience, holds a box at waist length. MAN 2 enters.
Hey. I think it’s stuck.
Ah. Well, God wills it.
I found this great crime novel parody by Tara Sparling! She has a history of writing award-winning blog humor, and I think you’ll enjoy this one in particular.
Anyone who’s ever lived in shared accommodation will know that flatmates can be difficult. But what would it be like to live with the sort of crime novel cops whose innate mix of inner demons and public doggedness usually ensures them an eight-book deal?
It is 7.30 am. You are about to depart for work from the bland, nondescript starter home of a cop in a crime novel. You wipe down the countertop of the dated beige kitchen, clearing the last crumbs of toast away, when you notice a crime scene photograph of a horribly mutilated woman beside the exhausted coffee machine. Trembling, you pick it up. You’re sure you’ve seen her somewhere before.
Crime Novel Cop: [sneaking up behind you] You don’t want me to tell you what…
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