What a Whirlwind of a Season!

Oh, how time flies.  If it wasn't for this heat, I could have sworn it was still March!  Maybe it was because of all the yard work I did that I lost track of time?

Yeah, maybe.  It was an everyday thing there for a while.

Yeah, maybe.  At least the yard is looking good!  I even have a tan this year!  You have no idea how weird that is for me.  My skin is fair, like, turns red at the mention of sun fair.  So, I guess that my idea of a tan may not be your idea of one, but it is definitely a huge change for me!  I can wear tank tops this year without glowing!  But the moment the outside temperature hit 90deg (Fahrenheit in case you were wondering), I was done.  The heat and humidity here are deadly.  I wish I was kidding.  For as long as I lived here, there has always been two or three, at least, news reports of some high schooler dropping dead at football practice.  Keep hydrated!  And take breaks!  This is why I am convinced I am living in the wrong part of the country.  Give me cold and snow any day!

After the heat kicked me out of the yard, I noticed that my social life became active.  No idea how that happened since I love hiding under my rock.  Maybe because of the road trip my husband and I took?  Or because my step-sister found an after-hours event at the zoo?  Or that it was my and her birthdays in June?  Or was it the traveling?  I've been on two major trips this summer (that's two more than my usual average).  Road trips don't count since I go on a few of those a year.  I guess I should define a major trip as one that would include airfare.

I feel like you want to talk about what's been going on.

I kinda do, but I also kinda don't.

Give the Cliffnotes version instead.

You asked for it.  Insert bullets!

• Yard was a disaster, after many fights with thorns and a new fear of coyotes dens (i.e. holes that you drop a foot into while mowing blind), it has been reclaimed.
• I got a tan!
• Roadtrip! Went to Stephenville, Texas for Memorial Day weekend.  My husband rode a horse for the first time.  We went to Dinosaur Valley State Park, twice.  That whole trip was full of adventures!
• Major trip one was to Lexington, Kentucky so I could see part of my sister's horse show.  The Kentucky Horse Park is massive!  And the distillery tour at Buffalo Trace was fascinating (I saw where Blanton's was made!)
• Zoo nights was a blast and I had no white clothes for the white-themed party, oh well.  It was a wine-tasting event and I somehow managed to win tickets to the Macklemore and Kesha concert that Saturday.  My husband, my step-sister, and I met up first then played a game of hide-and-selfie-seek with my sister.  That was funny, but we later found out that one end of our game she may have had a little too much to drink.  Long story short, do not pregame before going to a wine-tasting event. 
• Macklemore and Kesha concert!  It was much more fun than I expected.
• Major trip two was to Chicago.  A friend of mine, whom I have known since seventh grade, is pregnant!  I went to visit and help her move into her and her husband's new apartment since he was out-of-town due to work.  No problem!  I'm weird because I love building things and cleaning.  And if something happened to my friend, she had someone with her to help. 
• Road trip from Chicago to Lexington.  I was in Ohio for five minutes!
• Another Zoo night, rodeo-themed.  I got a free bandana and somehow managed to win, again, concert tickets.  Sugarland this time!
• Sugarland concert was interesting, but not how you would think.  The two opening acts, Lindsey Ells and Frankie Ballard, were good, but were, unfortunately, playing to a crowd who was not their target audience.  Then there was a plug for supporting a disadvantaged kid in South America.  Then there was some political stuff and my husband's and my fun were killed.
• Might go to Lexington again!

I should not have said anything, but you were right.  You have been busy.

*shrug*

However, despite all of this, you would think that, as a writer, I would have been able to sit down and write, right?  There were a lot of opportunities for inspiration to strike.  Well, two days, two days of writing, if you could call it that, was all I did.  Opened an old story and edited, then added some chapters, and changed the point of view from character A to character B for the sake of perceptions.  Okay, it was not as bad as I had thought, but two days!  Ug, I remember when I would write for days and nights on end, not wanting to sleep because I had to get the story out.  I miss those days.

I am a writer, one who has had horrible writer's block for a while, and, while I believe this is something I will struggle with forever, I have seen tiny glimmers of inspiration in the tiny details of life that have sparked mini stories to form.

While, at first, these little sparks amount to nothing major, their combined influence is significant.  I have doubted myself for my lack of creativity and loss of words.  My pen has not been moving, my keyboard has not been clacking, and my writing life has come to a standstill, stagnating in the heat begging to be refreshed, begging for water.

It was last night that I realized that I still am a writer.  I still am creative.  It has just been muted, hidden, sleeping if you will.  I had been lying in the dark, waiting for sleep, when a sentence popped into my head: "Two beasts meet on the battlefield."  This may have been from me playing Jurassic World Alive thirty minutes before, which reminds me, I should check if there are dinosaurs nearby!

*grabs phone*

You're obsessed.

It doesn't help that it is like Pokemon GO.  It is very similar, and some people say better.  And, hello, dinosaurs!

Okay, you have a point.  Dinosaurs are cool.

But you're right, I'll focus.

The image of two shadows formed in my mind's eye.  Two beasts.  Why would they be on a battlefield?  What kind of battlefield?  Were they enemies?  What were they?  What kind of beasts?  I was stuck on this for the next half hour before my sleeping medication kicked in.  At least I was smart enough to write down my thoughts, the following sentences that formed.

I was proud this morning when I woke and remembered the sentences.  Perhaps the scene that began will be useful?  Maybe it will be used in a story in progress?  Maybe it will become its own?  Maybe it will be dead by the end of the week?  Who knows?  That's the unholy fun of my writer's block!

You're weird.

Weirdness aside, the past few months have had me thinking.  Why did I start this blog?  Was it simply a whirlwind fancy?  Something to add to my resume?  Was for me to work myself out of my writer's block?  Why?  I have come to the conclusion that this blog, while it is fun to research, needs to adjust the direction it has been going.  Why not become more of a diary instead?  Show how my everyday life influences my writing?  Such as my travels, who wouldn't notice something sitting in an airport?  One of my favorite games is watching people and creating lives for them.  I did that with an old neighbor of mine too.  We hardly spoke, and he gave a vague description of what he did, so when I would wonder about who he was, silly stories popped up.

And I shall leave you with a song.  I heard it during the first concert of my summer and it was catchy!  Willy Wonka has found its way into my playlist and I love listening to it whenever I need to focus.  Enjoy!

A Cause of my Infernal Writer's Block

"Writer's block doesn't exist... lack of imagination does." - Cyrese Covelli 

I have always had a strong aversion to large crowds especially when it comes to public speaking.  Not to mention that I am terrible when it comes to sitting still.  I find it incredibly difficult to sit there and listen to someone talk for more than five minutes.  If my focus doesn't shatter because of my wandering mind, I get bored.  I need to keep moving or fidget just to pay attention.  Back in middle school, I had a teacher use me as an example.  I still remember her words: "Look at Lindsey, you think she's not listening because she's staring out the window, but her grades reflect the opposite.  I know she tries and her grades show it.  For those of you who are staring blankly at me, I can tell you're not paying attention or simply do not care because your grades tell me so."  Embarrassment flooded my cheeks because I was the center of attention for a few short seconds, but I held onto that.  My Language Arts teacher did more for me that day than I realized at the time.  In her own way, she told me that it is okay to not make eye-contact with someone to learn and retain information.  It has become a part of how I learn, how I communicate.

Speech.  Text.  Television.  Advertisements.  Looks.  Emotions.  All communication.  Writing, I will dare to say, is among the dominant forms of communication.  Every day, how often do you see words and letters?  I bet that you cannot turn your head and not see some form of writing.  Go on, take a look.  I'll tell you what I see, a box of granola bars, my go-to snack food.  I see the brand, the flavor, the ingredients, and that's just on the front.  I turn my head and I see a television with a Maybelline advertisement playing.  Looking to my left, there's my bookcase with titles gracing spines hinting at the many words hidden between covers.  So, what about picking up a book?  It's the same thing, right?  An author is communicating a story through their own words.  Words that took hours upon hours upon days and weeks and months and years to be put together in a manner satisfactory enough for the author to hand off to their readers, you.  It is hard work.  Work that can flow easily onto paper, or become the writer's worst nightmare, writer's block.

Oh, the dreaded block!  How horrid are the terrors that emerge from its dark and vile shadow?  Dost thy cower to its evil or 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them?  Uh oh... sorry about that.  I just quoted Hamlet by Shakespeare in a lame attempt to sound amazing.  At least I'll admit my fault.  Whenever I get writer's block, one of a few things happens, including randomly quoting books or movies.  Overcoming writer's block is definitely not my forte and I have written about it on here Writing about Writer's Block).
before (See

But that post was about how I confronted writer's block, never what caused it.  Sure it happens out of the blue and frustrates all it touches, but seriously, why?  Why do we have to deal with this?  Why do writers have this problem?  Is there a specific cause?  I have asked myself this many, many times.  Diving into the internet, I straight up googled "causes of writer's block" and I found a couple sites that were surprisingly helpful.

The first site is a blog maintained by the author, publisher, and co-founder of The Hot Sheet, Jane Friedman.  On October 22, 2015, she posted an article, 5 Reasons You're Experiencing Writer's Block, and in the article, other than being wonderfully, blunt and brutally honest, she lists good answers to my questions.  If I could copy and paste her article into mine, I would.  Go check it out, it really is a good read.  Yet, the first thing she opens with is this simple line: "We're going to go there, right now, even though it might lead to automatic resistance: Writer's block is a myth."  When I read that, I scoffed.  Yeah right, do tell.  And I continued reading.  Friedman goes on explaining how the term came about and about how adults in our world don't like to think.  She continues with writers are thinkers and are required to think hard in order to create "works full of meaning, purpose, and nobility."  I liked that.  Then came the list:

1. You've lost your way
2. Your passion has waned
3. Your expectations are too high
4. You are burned out
5. You're too distracted

Despite being a pantser (someone who lets their imagination go and write as their story as it comes forward, normally does not outline), I love lists, especially when they mean something.  The cause of writer's block is not that someone pulled inspiration out of my grasp, it was me.  I've changed since I started writing.  The days of doing nothing but spitting words onto paper, the days where I craved to open my laptop and simply write what came to mind have slipped through my fingers.  I know that I love writing.  I know that it allows me to disconnect and live in my own little world.  When I started, it was freeing.  It helped me improve myself and push aside my problems.  Then it disappeared.  I had three books published, one being written, dozens of others that I scribble in on those days I needed something new.  So what happened?  The words, the stories, the way I communicated was gone.  For the past year, everyone knew that I constantly and begrudgingly had hit a wall, but the way Friedman put it made me feel better.  All I was doing was thinking hard.  I lost my way.  My passion waned from forcing myself to open my laptop.  My expectations were set too high because I needed to get that book finished.  I burned myself out by forcing myself to write.  I became too distracted when I told myself I needed something else to inspire me and looked everywhere but my writing.  I was exhausted.

This past year, I have blamed writer's block for my lack of writing.  I blamed the stress wafting from others and buried myself in my self-pity.  Criticizing myself for my lack of productivity because I involved myself with too much, allowed myself to be swallowed by my emotions and drowned by a sea of self-loathing.  Yes, it has been difficult, but was it my environment to blame?  Has it really been that I have lost my passion?  Or that my expectations were set too high after I published a book, expecting myself to write another within the same timeframe?  I put to much pressure on myself and in the end, destroyed what I had wanted to create.  I was my own enemy.  I failed myself.  My techniques for getting out of this funk were foolproof until they weren't.  There is still that spark of passion but without fuel, it will only smolder.  After reading Friedman's article, I can only agree with her.

I have found that writing has become my favorite form of communication.  When I speak, I feel like I am unable to be completely coherent and end up relying on waving my hands in order to make sense.  My favorite phrase is "Words are hard!" because they are.  Writing is easier.  I am able to think about what I say and delete it if it does sound stupid.  Backspace, you are my saving grace!  However, writing stories, while it may seem like a hobby, has become my way of communicating my thoughts.  Not just a plotline, but hardships, challenges, and hopes.  A reader may bypass this as mere words on a page, but the hours spent behind those words are what makes me proud of them.  As long as my personal writer's block has held me, the more my written words hold value.  It took an effort to get them onto paper.  It took heart and soul and tears to convert them into something legible.  While I may have stumbled a lot lately, those words have never left me.  They have merely been hiding, waiting for me to rekindle my passion and light my path.

"Instead of feeling like a failed writer, be patient and kind toward your writing self until the situation changes.  The less you fret and put a negative spin on it, the more small pockets of time might open up.  And, since you have been wise in keeping your writing brain primed, you may find it easier to write than you imagined." - Jane Friedman

M.I.S.S. - "I Feel Love" by The Blue Man Group feat. Venus Hum

About this story:

"The history of the Blue Man Group originates with three friends fresh out of college who made a life-defining decision together.  Chris Wink, Phil Stanton, and Matt Goldman determined they would achieve lives of meaning and purpose, forging their own road, following their own path.

"When their creative impulses led them to develop a bald and blue character they called Blue Man (to evoke the word 'human'), more than a few people raised eyebrows.  Undeterred, the partners invested their time and resources into following this curious character into a small theatre in New York City.  What transpired was a ground-breaking performance that moved and inspired audiences.  This unprecedented theatrical success led to ongoing accolades, awards, and genre-jumping opportunities.

https://www.blueman.com/about-blue-man-group 

Who here is a Blue Man Group fan?  I am!  And I've loved them since high school.  I have been to a few of their concerts and it is quite an experience!  I highly recommend going.  Or at least listening to their music.  It's a bunch of fun!  If you choose to watch the video I have included, the song itself starts around three minutes in (the first part is the men having some fun).  As for the story, it is really short.  What?  It is a short story challenge.  The song, when you listen to it, is mostly music.  Sounds that create emotion.  Despite the words, I led with the emotion.  I wanted to embrace the feeling of love and trying something new.  Now, some people might take the whole "I feel love" theme of the song and make something sexual out of it.  I went a different route.  Who likes fruit?  I thought it would be funny to have the reader believe that the person experiencing this immense love be for something as silly as a little fruit.  Read and enjoy!

Title: Nectar

I have never experienced this sensation before.  It was so good!  What would a normal person call it?  Love perhaps?  Am I feeling love?  I'm not sure.  Could this emotion be that strong?  Letting that word fall freely between us.  Just me and this wonderful freefall into bliss.  All I did was have a little taste.  Let my tongue savor that sweet nectar.  But what should I do?  If the others find out, would they try to take it away?  Laugh at me?  Make fun of me?  Finish this before it began?  But, I think I've fallen in love.  That is the only answer to what I felt.  The feel of the soft skin against my fingers, the warmth I feel when I see that color, I didn't know that one bite would cause this.  All I can think about is the nectar from that fruit and how I wanted more.  Reaching out, I grabbed the spoon, scooping more peaches on to my plate.  "I guess you like them, huh?"  Stuffing a forkful into my mouth, I smiled at her.  Who knew trying something new would be love at first taste?

Lyrics:

Ooh, it's so good
It's so good, it's so good
It's so good, it's so good

Ooh, I'm in love
I'm in love, I'm in love
I'm in love, I'm in love

Ooh, I feel love
I feel love, I feel love
I feel love, I feel love

I feel love
I feel love
I feel love

Ooh, fallin' free
Fallin' free, fallin' free
Fallin' free, fallin' free

Ooh, you and me
You and me, you and me
You and me, you and me

Ooh, I feel love
I feel love, I feel love
I feel love, I feel love

I feel love
I feel love
I feel love

Ooh, I'll get you
I'll get you, I'll get you
I'll get you, I'll get you
I'll get you

Ooh, what you do?
What you do? What you do?
What you do? What you do?

Ooh, I feel love
I feel love, I feel love
I feel love, I feel love

I feel love
I feel love
I feel love