A funny thing happened on the way to the written page….

Life. Life happened.


In the past two months, I’ve dealt with issues ranging from parental narcissism to child-abuse, from rescuing lost dogs to handling asthma so bad it nearly landed me in the hospital.

In all this time, how have we fared? Marriage: still rocking. Faith: stronger than ever. Breathing: not completely functional, but getting there.

(The child-abuse: still happening, by the way. I find myself disgusted with the lack of concern from legal agencies, but that’s a rant for another time.)

I suppose in the midst of this, it won’t be surprising that I haven’t been able to write.

On second thought, this probably won’t fix anything.

This is really funny considering my recent post on beating writer’s block. Of  course, this wasn’t exactly “block” in the traditional sense. I had story-stuff. I just had no time.

When finally, at last, time did clear up, I found myself staring at the screen and stuck because I could not figure out how to transfer the words in my head onto the digital page. It’s there. The story is THERE, but I didn’t leave myself enough spoons to get it out.

Can’t think to write. Okay. Here’s where stream of consciousness comes in.

Trust Your Brain

I took my own advice, calmed down, and focused.

I turned on some awesome, inspiring music.

And I wrote.

I wrote whatever came to mind.

A lot of it was pure crap. But that snippet from two days ago? That was the result of trusting my brain and letting the crap get out of the way.

In the process, I now have a new (made-up) city to play with, a whole new culture, and an entire segment of Notte’s immense history that he’d hidden from me before.

He even has a companion now. Yes, it’s a talking horse, but at least keeps him from being maudlin.

So, yeah. The advice is solid: [highlight]when you can’t write, write anyway[/highlight]. Just write. Whatever comes out is whatever comes out, and even if most of it is crap, some of it won’t be.

It’s worth writing crap to get to the words you like.

The end.

(Have a terrifyingly huge laptop-eating picture, gratis. You can thank me later.)

Maybe if I EAT the laptop, the words will leak from my fingers.

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