Nothing freaks writers out more than the inability to write. It can happen at any point in a project but most often strikes mid-stream. You are stopped cold, confronted by a startling realization that your story has lost direction and is sinking into an abyss of confusion.
There are countless reasons why writers stumble, lose focus, and end up suffering the paralyzing effects of writer’s block. A few quick fixes: Continue reading
I am four years old. My mother has taken me grocery shopping, one of my favorite outings. As we roam the aisles, I traipse behind her as she checks prices and places items in the cart. I ask for cookies and treats, but she says no. I am distracted and don’t notice her rounding the corner. When I look up, she’s gone. My heart stops, or at least that’s what it feels like. I stand still, paralyzed, and in a tiny voice I say, “Mommy?” Continue reading
Your day has been derailed. You’re unmotivated. You’ve lost focus. You can’t concentrate. You would rather do the laundry, wash the car, or file your back taxes. Most writers have days when writing is near impossible. We have weeks when the stars refuse to align, forces conspire against us, and ideas that once seemed brilliant have lost their sparkle. At these times, my friend, you have two choices: give up and quit or do what I do: “DIS” yourself. Continue reading
Sticky Bun Coffee Cake from SiftingFocus.com
Cecilia Rose, or Cece as called by her friends, ventured into town reluctantly. She had agreed to visit an old friend and now regretted it. After ten years in Los Angeles, her small, Northern California hometown made her uncomfortable and claustrophobic. She did not relish the prospect of running into people she used to know. But the desire to avoid being seen did not dissuade her from taking a quick detour . . . Continue reading
The man crumpled to the ground, bawling like a baby.
My brother, Johnnie, leveled the rifle. “What d’ya want me to do?” Continue reading
“More sex,” he said.
I was having coffee with an old friend, a publicist, who had offered advice on book promotion. I hadn’t expected “sex” to be on the agenda, but he was the expert, so I went with it. And he was, after all, doing me a favor. He even paid for my double-shot, low-fat, half-caff latte.
I took a sip and licked some foam off my Continue reading
“Come on, it’ll be fun. Besides, you’ve had a crush on Patrick since third grade.”
“No I haven’t.”
“It’s not a big deal, everyone knows.”
“He doesn’t,” I argued.
“Oh, I think he does.”
And with that, Ally convinced me to go to the new James Bond movie with Patrick and Steve, two boys from school. It was 1973. We were thirteen, and Ally desperately wanted a boyfriend. Continue reading