Rites

I’d like to say that I’m practical and have a lot of self discipline when it comes to my writing, but as the old saying goes, there are no atheists in the foxholes so when I hit the wall and I feel writers block hitting me but hard I have a rituals for helping me over that wall.

First off when I’m searching for ideas (  I used to use a phone book but that’s another story ) or story prompt I play this song until  get a few good ones down.

By ‘good ones’ I mean I look at a prompt and go, ” I get it now.”

So when I have issues and need help, I call on Jim Dandy.

Sometimes when I’m writing, it really drives home that I’m in this TOO alone and I sort of loose steam. So I play Mozart for company and lo and behold I start writing again.

and then there are times when I need to focus and I can’t I play my cd’s by the Runaways- I’m not sure why they cut out the white noise swirling around my head, but they do.

So there we have it, the music I listen to when I have to clear my head and get to work.

Rock on.

anita

Not The Clink!!

RDP Saturday: CLINK

photographer/subject unknown

When I was in high school I took a creative writing class and it was wonderful.

It was great for you if you wanted to write and it was great for students and who wanted an easy credit.  So along with a few aspiring writers, there were also a few athletes and  pep club types and stoners- most of them looking for a class to sleep through.

In that mix there were a few students who really did want to to learn  about writing and the process.

Our teacher did realize his class was a dumping ground for students just looking for ‘an easy credit’, so he had this this grading system. If you showed up, kept awake  and after he read the writing assignments,  if you offered a word or two to prove you were sort o paying attention, you got a ” C ”

I was terrified of getting a ” C ” because in the real world that ” C ” was a half step above a Failing grade. That ” C ” meant you were being thrown into the clink- as in the notorious ” Clink ” in London.

Clink Museum- London
Photographer Unknown

There was another thing that would earn you a trip to the clink- even if you were a writer.

Every morning our Teacher put a word on the blackboard and circled it.

That was our ‘prompt’ and you had until the end of class to write about it.

He didn’t tell you how to use it so you didn’t get to write things like ” not feeling it” or ” hard pass, I don’t like this word”

If you were going to be a writer, then  get to writing and if you want to be a creative writer then this shouldn’t be hard.

Well it was hard- but no WAY was I going to get sent to the Clink over one word- and do you know what this little exercise taught me?

To not be afraid to write.

Clink.

 

 

 

Let’s See What We Have Here

Since we have been in lockdown, I haven’t been going out and filling that creative well I visit before I write.

So I have taken to looking at artwork and as I do I listen to music and it actually works. I am inspired!

I would like to share these two works and the music that fired me up.

I will leave it to your imaginations to decide how such two different expressions and two totally different mediums lit my brain up like the an epic fireworks show on the 4th of July:

Artist, Jane Patterson

Great Temple of Ramses II. First room with eight statues of Ramses II as the god Osiris. Abu Simbel.

This was the music video I had running-

 

I know, it’s all random but I think that’s what works for me.

anita marie

The Little Ghost

Word of the Day Challenge: Hiding


Bo Fransson, Watercolor

When I was little, I used to like to play hide and seek.

I never  in things, or under things- I used to hide up in the trees, on a roof, somewhere up high.

Then I could watch the game.

I could see people running for ‘base’ I saw them being found, I watched them moving from one hiding spot to another- which I thought was cheating. But really it did take nerve because if you got caught you could get tagged and you were it.

From my perch I could watch the efforts to find me-

sometimes I’d see people looking in cars, knocking on doors and asking a neighbor if I was hiding in their house.  Sometimes I’d hear wild theories about how I might be hiding in that refrigerator in the alley that we were supposed to stay away from, or maybe I got kidnaped or maybe I went home or maybe ANITA WAS LOST.

Sometimes they gave up on me and the game went on.

Sometimes I would drop down and run for base.

Sometimes I’d go to the corner store and buy some candy and go back up my tree.

Once I was up there watching the game roll on below me and I thought all I had to do was cough or sneeze or say’ hey ‘ or ‘look out below’ and someone would see me and I’d be back in the game.

I’d be back in the thick of it, just be a kid playing hide and seek- but really what I liked was the feeling of being there, but not there. I felt like a ghost just waiting for the right time to say ‘boo’ and the beauty of it was I never felt the rush to do that.

Which probably explains why I loved to play hide and seek so much.

It was a game for one little kid who would grow up to be a ghost one day.