A Writer's Objectives

Too Much of a Good Thing

I’m a writer (well damn, what a surprise that is!) and while some people may not believe it, I get tired of writing sometimes. It’s rare, but it happens.

I have a huge list of stuff to write, not least of which is homework related. I have fanfictions, short stories, a handful of novels, poems and other creative pieces, too. I have this blog, plus a collection of other blogs I update either daily or weekly. And the list just keeps growing. Why? Because I’m procrastinating. A LOT.

I have plenty of things to work on, obviously. I’ve worked on some of it now and again, but my writing spurts don’t last as long (or come as often) as they used. At first, my mojo was missing completely. Now that I have it back, it is less that I can’t write and more that there are more fun things to do.

Wait, there is stuff more fun than writing? That can’t be right…

I have a tight little group of friends that live with/near me. We have been spending a lot of time together, watching shows on Netflix, playing games (D&D and WoW) and just all around having fun. Last night, three of us went on an impromptu trip to a waterfall near my apartment (at 11PM, mind you) so that we could gaze at the stars without the added light from the houses, cars and street lamps. It was one of the most awe-inspiring and fun things I have done in years. Years I tell you! And that’s quite sad, in my opinion.

In my writing, I can do anything that comes to mind. I can fly on a dragon, dance in moonbeams, get married to a prince. But it’s all on paper (or laptop). None of it is something that I can actually experience. I can’t feel the mist of a waterfall on my face if I simply write about it.

I’m not saying I quit writing; one cannot rid themselves of their soul so readily. I’m just saying that I am probably going to take a much needed break from doing so much of it once I catch myself up on my to-do list. Now that I can write again, I can also choose not to. And as soon as these 14 pieces of writing get completed, that’s just what I am going to do (except blog posts; those are a constant. No worries!)

Fast Fiction- Wait…

Hey everyone. Normally, being Friday, I would be posting a short piece of fiction (100-300 words) for everyone to read and asking others to join in by doing their own Fast Fiction.

Not today.

I’m starting to wonder if it is really worth me taking the time to come up with a story every Friday. My aim for this was to get other authors involved as well and have them share their posts with me and then on Saturdays I would have a post with a link to all of the TripleF’s so everyone could read them and enjoy. Saturday posts have been ‘Wild Card Days’ only because I really haven’t had very many people join in.

And now I am getting bored.

So, if you would like me to continue with Fast Fiction Fridays, please let me know. And, if your wanting of me to continue includes you joining in, even better. I just need to know if I should change my TripleF message (remove the “please join me, blah blah blah” part) or leave it as is. In other words, will I have a reason to leave the invite for ya’ll to join me?

If I don’t get any responses, I’m going to think up something else to do on Fridays. I’ll keep you all informed, of course, but this may mean that Fridays may go without any type of post at all (except maybe updates on my thought process) for a few weeks.

 

Thanks for reading and please let me know what you would like to see happen with Fast Fiction Fridays!

Thursday Thirteen

It’s been a very very long time since I have done a list of thirteen for ya’ll. This week, my list is 13 things I love about my life. Things have been a little stressful lately, so I’ve decided that I need to start looking at things in a more positive light than I have been. These things are not listed in any particular order. The more important ones tend to be more difficult to verbalize so they may be further down the list. I’m also just very random in my thought process, so I just add things as they pop into my mind. So, without further delay, here is my list of thirteen:

 

Things I love about my life:

1) My family. I don’t get to see them very often, but every time I do I remember why I love them so very much. And so many of them keep in touch with me through either facebook or texting. It’s always wonderful to get a message from someone just checking in to see how I am doing. I am blessed with a giant, crazy, loving family.

2) My friends/Chosen Family. Without these people, my life would be very dull. I’ve recently become very picky about my friends, but those that have managed to stick by my side through thick and thin, and those that have recently become major parts of my life are very important to me. They are the brothers and sisters I never had. They are the strength that keeps me standing when I can’t be with my actual family. They are what keeps me going and keeps me from going insane.

3) My pets. It sounds silly, but I have two cats, a hamster and a whole bunch of fish. When I am stressed or sick they cheer me up. My cats have been the only solid point in my life several times over the last couple of years. I would be devastated to lose them or any of my other pets. They give me a kind of strength and love that only pets can offer.

4) My writing. Despite its random hiatus recently, my writing is one thing that keeps me sane. It is a filter through which I sift my emotions. I can (almost) always rely on it to be there when I need it to. And it gives me hours of entertainment at any given moment.

5) My books. In the same way that my writing helps me deal with real life, my books help me escape to fantasy worlds and far from real life. When writing, I can occasionally do the same. But it is different with a book because I’m not (usually) constantly pausing to fix a spelling or grammar mistake or to fix a sentence. In books, I lose who I am completely and become part of another world entirely until I am ready to emerge and face my own life again.

6) My apartment. I could very well be without this. Money is more than a little tight these days, and it rarely gets any better. My landlord is amazing and understands my struggles and works with me. And, while I sometimes hate this place, my apartment is the first place I have been able to call ‘home’ in a while and truly feel that I mean it. Here, I can escape from the outside world. Here, I do my best writing and exploring through books. Here, the best times are had. Here, I am safe.

7) Supernatural. It seems silly adding a television show to a list of things I love about my life, but it is true. This is a show that I have become fully immersed within. Not only the episodes, but the fandom as well. And what a fandom it is. There are some fairly amazing things that the Supernatural Family has accomplished and still hasn’t failed to shock me. I am proud to be a part of it.

8) My Online Friends. Just as the friends I see in person, the people I talk to online have become a sort of family to me as well. With them I know I can discuss things that I might not be able to talk to people around me about. They give me advice as someone who has  bias towards one side or another of a situation. And they are always willing to let me vent. On top of that, my online friends have become a bit of a community, a family, on their own. They are all pretty much connected in one way or another and I am so glad for that.

9) My Mother. This woman has been through Hell and back with me and on her own. She lost herself for a while, but has recently bounced back pretty thoroughly. She’s beautiful, loving and strong. She has taught me what it means to love with everything you have, but also how dangerous that can be to yourself. She is the person I turn to for advice, the one I look to for support above all others. She is my mother and I am proud to say so.

10) Gaming. Another silly thing. But gaming helps me deal with my emotions sometimes; if I am angry, there is nothing better than shooting some virtual aliens in the head. Gaming helps with my creativity, too. See, sometimes I have characters form, but don’t have a story to go with them. Dungeons and Dragons (D&D) helps with that problem. And gaming isn’t always about helping me with problems; it’s fun, too. And sometimes I need fun more than anything because I forget what fun is.

11) My health. While I get sick an awful lot (more than most people I know), I am still very much alive and strong. Recent events have shocked me into realization that there are people in the world (even people I know and love) who don’t get very lucky with the health card. People younger than I am are fighting life-threatening diseases or health problems while I’m battling a simple cold. While my thoughts and prayers go out to them, and I do everything I can to let them know I care… I also thank whatever higher being there may be that the worst I get is Bronchitis and a sinus infection tag teaming me.

12) My imagination. I suppose this kind of goes hand-in-hand with my writing (and gaming) but it can also stand on its own. Ever since I was really young my imagination has been more active than most children. I always had a few imaginary friends to hang out with (even into my teens) and while I thought that I was insane for doing so, I still loved it. My imagination allows me to fall deep into books and explore the world side-by-side with the main characters. It allows me to create worlds and characters for others to discover. It allows me to see and feel everything the character I am playing in a performance sees and feels. Without my imagination, I fear I would go completely mad.

13) Myself. This might sound a little vain; I love myself. But it’s true, despite what I might say sometimes. It’s important to admit you love yourself once in a while, and showing confidence in yourself helps others feel more confident around you. And besides, without me I wouldn’t have my life or all the other amazing things I’ve listed. So I guess loving me isn’t so vain after all.

 

Thursday Thirteen is not something I have created on my own. There is a large community of bloggers who participate in this and they can all be found on the Thursday13 main page. Please take time to view other Thursday Thirteen posts!

Wrapping

It’s Wednesday! That means it is time for a writing prompt! I haven’t done a prompt in a really long time, so I am hoping lots of people find and use this and then share it with me! 😀

Moving on, here’s your prompt!

 

 

Write about something that has been wrapped.

 

 

I ask that, if anyone chooses to use these prompts, they share them with me. In the comment section, post the link to wherever your piece of writing can be found(deviantART, writing forums, your own blog, etc.) If you do not have anywhere online to post the writing, you are welcome to either use the comment section to place your story, or email me at: FantasieAutor@gmail.com with either an attachment or the story as the body of the email. I will never claim your work as my own, just as I expect the same respect from my readers when I share my own works. 

Before I start, no, I did not lose my mojo again. Don’t panic; I’m back for good (I hope!).

Now, everyone calls their writing ability something different. Personally, I enjoy calling it mojo; it sounds silly. Recently, as I stated in previous entries, I lost my mojo. I’m pretty sure someone stole it, but that’s another story entirely. The point is that I was unable to write. Literally. I would get an idea for a story or poem or even for homework. I would sit down and start writing and after a few sentences it would just… stop. My ideas kept forming but hands wouldn’t type. It was like there was something stopping me from getting the ideas out. I’ve had a serial story on hold for almost two months, I have a huge list of requested short stories from friends that I haven’t done. My novels have all been severely neglected (though this really isn’t anything new). I even struggled with getting my D&D game going well because it was difficult pushing past the wall and allowing my creativity to shine.

Some would say it was just a form of writer’s block. I suppose I could agree; I wasn’t able to write anything. But it felt worse to me. I had all the ideas. The stories were forming in my head, including chapters for my novels. But when I would go to write them, I couldn’t. It was the worst feeling in the world. All this creativity in my head and I couldn’t get it out.

Sometimes it felt like my life force had been stolen from me. After I attempted to write and failed, I lost the energy to do just about anything. I read a lot, but it wasn’t doing much more than giving me ideas I couldn’t write down. My life was empty of the joy that writing brings. I enjoyed doing homework for classes because at least I was writing something (even if it was forced and far from my best work). To anyone who didn’t catch that, let me reiterate: I enjoyed doing homework. I feel like that was the low point. The point where I realized something was wrong and I needed to fix it.

Except I couldn’t fix it.

I tried all kinds of mind exercises to see if I could get the writing flow back. Nada. I tried telling stories to friends or reciting the poems that came to mind. Still couldn’t write them. Nothing was working. It terrified me. I honestly wondered if it was possible to have my writing mojo stolen because how could I ever be so careless as to lose something so precious to me?

At last, a few days ago while I was home sick, I sat down to browse the internet (as had become habit when I wanted to write but couldn’t) and before I knew what was going on, I had opened a document and was spewing the scene that had come to mind onto the pages before me. I got three pages typed up before I had to force myself to stop so I could go and eat dinner. Ever since, writing has been no problem.

I’m not sure where my mojo went (who stole it) or how it came back (why they gave it back to me), but I am more than glad it is back. I feel whole again, and like I can face anything that the world throws at me. I have a bounce in my step that was gone when my mojo was missing. And I don’t have to force out the painstakingly boring homework assignments; I can just toss them onto the page, add the citations needed and call it completed. And it looks good!

Life has been scary without my mojo. I rather felt like I wasn’t a whole person. Now that it is back, I have to figure out when to do creative writing; my homework piled up suddenly and I must have it completed much sooner than I would like. I do know, however, that it feels good to be whole again.

That’s what I’ve been going through (or at least some of it) lately. Has anyone else ever lost their ‘writing mojo’? Was it as scary for you as it was for me?

Hello! *Shy wave* I know, I was supposed to have this blog up an running again. Two weeks ago. It wasn’t my fault this time… fully. I sprained my hand, so typing became very difficult. That lasted about a week (though I still have my days). Then I chose to focus on another blog as a dear friend fights a life-threatening tumor in her stomach. I’ve been so focused on getting word out to the fandom she and I are both part of that every other part of my life has been neglected.

But she is stable, now, and life is getting a little better. I also have my writing mojo back, which is helpful.

Today’s post is one of many, this I swear. It’s Monday, so I am sharing an excerpt from a short story. The story is titled ‘Death Inside’ and it is based on a young man who makes a living as an assassin. His dear friend (and perhaps love interest) calls him, in danger, and he rushes to her rescue. The piece I am sharing is an interaction between the two characters. The rest of the story is marked ‘Mature’ for the guns, violence and language. If you would like to read the entire story, you will need an account on deviantART.

Without further ado, here is an excerpt from my short story ‘Death Inside’:

 

Without needing a light, I crouched in the darkness and reached ahead of me, feeling the panel of wall behind the few buckets, mops and vacuum. At last my finger traced over the oh so subtle protruding knot. I pressed it. A square of light lit the closet, and I quickly and quietly maneuvered around the cleaning supplies and ducked into the opening in the wall. I slid my palm along the trigger that closed the panel as I continued down the small passageway I had entered into.

As I reached the last few feet of the passage, I paused, listening to any sounds beyond. I heard nothing, but that didn’t have to mean that Allie wasn’t there. She was quite skilled at keeping quiet in circumstances such as this. I cleared my throat softly and tapped lightly on the wall of the panel three times. I heard a release of breath and shuffling ahead of me.

“Jaden, quickly.” She hissed. I crawled the rest of the way through the passage and entered into a small room lined with shelves. Every shelf was loaded with either some sort of canned food, bottled drink or, not surprisingly, various types of weapons. The single cot against the far wall was empty, but had clearly had someone sitting on it from the indent I could see still slowly working its way out of the material. I glanced to my left to find a pair of disturbingly light gray eyes watching me. I sighed with relief and quickly engulfed Allie in a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry,” I said softly against her hair. The blond was starting to grow out and reveal her dark brown roots. I kissed the roots and then pushed her gently back at arms length. She gave me a lopsided smile.

“Jaden, I’m fine. I just can’t take them on my own.” She said softly. I shrugged, knowing the truth but having to have seen it for myself.

“We’ll have to get out of here, soon.” I said quietly, crossing the room to inspect the weapons she had scattered about.

“They won’t find us, and we will know when they leave. Geare will go to your place to look for me.” I met her knowing gaze. “I guess you were right about hiding it elsewhere.”

“When will you learn that I am always right?” I wondered before turning back to the weapons shelf.

“It’s debatable,” she said quietly and I could feel those near-white eyes watching me closely. “You told me they wouldn’t come after me.”

 

Feet

As promised, here is my Monday post! This is a poem I wrote not too long ago. It’s a mix of humor and emotion.

 

I’m so sick of feet.

I’ve always wondered why

I have an aversion to feet;

Not the smell, or shape.

Looking at them

doesn’t bother me.

But if they touch me?

It’s like a spider walked

across my exposed flesh.

I jump, shudder.

I might even gag,

a little.

It’s a response

I never understood.

Until now.

So tread lightly;

I’m done being

a doormat.

 

I may not have a post for tomorrow (Tuesday) but I will for Wednesday. I injured my hand this weekend, so typing is difficult. But short posts I can manage. Tuesday posts are rarely short, however, so I believe I will skip it. Have a wonderful Monday night!