“my blood is a mix of coffee & tea”


coffee1circle

Recently I spoke to a friend about writing, specifically poetry. A couple of verses I wrote came to mind, verses I feel define me:

my blood is a mix of coffee & tea
and words from authors long dead

I wondered, how much of me is made of the words of authors long dead? Where do their voices end so mine can begin?

The question hit me because I’ve been trying my hand at poetry. Perhaps this is a case of Poet’s Block (a new phenomena to me) but when I try tapping into my deepest emotions–I rarely find words.

It’s easier for me to write poems about quarrels with my muse. I’m a creative being, but I don’t have secrets to spin poetry from–it’s all about writing, arguing with the elusive muse. I wonder if somehow I’ve set myself aside.

tearound

How do I absorb every book I read without canceling myself out? I’d already set this year aside as one for self-reflection; I know a writer is a thousand people in one, but it feels like I’ve made my own voice less audible.

It’s why I’ve gone back to keeping a journal. The root of the problem might be that I hadn’t kept a journal for the entirety of 2015. Journals help us keep in touch with our inner selves.

I know there’s a person in me aside from the books I write, because I encounter her in my old journals.

A writer might be a thousand people in one, but there’s still the soul who types the story. Things we read and experience shape a unique voice. In a bizarre way, I’m eager to find out what I have to say.

How can we use our unique voices if we don’t know what they sound like? There’s no problem living by truths taught in books–that’s what they’re for, and one of the reasons they’re beautiful!–but. As people, we are unique and have new truths to tell.

Keep a journal–you’ll learn so much about yourself, and years later will be glad you made the effort!

coffee2round

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#wordstorm: looking at flowers


flower3

At the grocery store yesterday, I photographed many flower arrangements. It’s not spring yet, but flowers remind me of what’s to come! Time flies, and soon it will be warm. There’ll be more flowers, ladybugs, even bees (which I hate.) I’ll be able to wear shorter sleeves.

There’ll be a smell of new in the air.

A year ago today, Dissonance hadn’t yet been published. I was in the process of completing edits and honestly, I might not have published it had people not encouraged me. To put your book out for others to read and go from writer to author–that’s scary.

Sometimes I still can’t believe I went through with it, that people have read and enjoyed it.

That smell of new in the air could be new stories (I’m working on them,) new dreams, new friends. Springtime is exciting; there’s always a surprise! I look forward to sitting outside with my laptop and finishing Serenade so you can read it.

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Winter isn’t bad, either. Those moments I spent huddled in bed with frozen toes were useful for meditation and plotting. I realized how much I’ve achieved since the book release, things I hadn’t dreamed of when Dissonance started out as a mermaid story.

I thought about new friends I’ve met, marveling that some have Dissonance on their shelves!

There’s beauty in the new and the old–the problem is finding balance, learning to anticipate the future without losing sight of the past. There are lessons to be learned and memories to be kept, even as we hold our breath for May.

I’ve never been good at living for the present (that’s something I’m working on.) However, I do feel that when I published Dissonance, I embarked on the path always meant for me. I started my career as an author, and things will only get better with time!

This year, I will get another potted plant and put it on my window. I’ll embrace the blessings I’ve been given since embarking on my path as an author. I thank every person who might take the time to read those 200 pages I worked so hard on.

Your time means so much to me.

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New things emerge in the spring–friends, ideas, stories. I can’t wait to see what I’ll dream up in 2016–it’s a matter of controlling my procrastination. That way I can instead embark on more #wordstorms.

Those can lead anywhere, even to a new story more people will enjoy.

These flowers are for you, I hope you find them as beautiful as I did.

wordstorms


Write.

A very important word. I should put it on a sticky note on my computer to remind me to write. But I shouldn’t need a reminder–I mean, that’s what I do, right? Right?

It’s been literally years since I’ve kept a personal journal consistently (meaning I wrote at least one entry per month.) For some reason I can’t think of anything to write when I sit down with a fancy leather journal. It’s all about the novels; I suppose that’s normal, since some of the writer goes into the characters.

The thing is, I consider myself a thinker. If I set an alarm on my phone to let me know it was time to look at words closely…write something related to my own life…but then, that can’t be forced.

Can it?

After all, writing is hard to achieve without habits.

And if I were to write down a fraction of the epiphanies that go on in my head when I stare at the wall overthinking, maybe I could figure out why these topics are so important to me.

My New Year’s Resolution for this coming year is to find my voice again–my voice–to set an alarm, a reminder, and look away from the novel for a while so I can transfer the storm of words in my head onto paper. Maybe even a blog post. Perhaps some words only come out if they know they’ll have an audience. Perhaps I need the Publish button to feel it was worth writing the wordstorm, worth sorting out these questions and ideas and epiphanies.

I can keep a journal of sorts on here. I need you, readers, to keep me going. Even if you don’t comment, knowing I have an audience might help settle this ever restless, loud Muse…maybe sometimes you could comment and opine, or remind me via tweetspam to keep blogging.

My blog theme this year is the sky and the universe because that reminds me of the infinite supply of ideas we have. Sometimes we choose Writer’s Block, because there is really so much to write about…so much. Look at the sky next time you get Writer’s Block and pick a star. Then close your eyes and choose an idea and grasp onto it, stick to it, follow it everywhere. Really, there’s no stopping you…only fear can keep you blocked for too long.

2016’s goal is pay attention to wordstorms.

There’s always something to say.