Patron Saint Against Writer's Block

Sometimes I just have to remember that everything I do is writing. It may not look like it to anyone else (it doesn't even seem like it to me!), but what I am doing when I'm doing nothing is writing. And when I'm doing something other than writing, somehow that is writing too.

Take this week, for instance. All week I tinkered with the wording of two lines of a poem that is essentially finished. But I just kept messing around with it, because trying to start something new was getting me nowhere. The notes I had jotted down in my notebook didn't connect, didn't start any synapses firing. So I tinkered with the old poem. And felt frustrated, like I am getting older (which I am) and not getting anything done in the meantime (which I wasn't).

Then I did have an idea. It involved the Patron Saint of Gravel, something I had jotted down in my notebook. So I thought about that awhile, and went online to get some background information that might inspire me. That's when I learned that the actual title was Patron Saint Against Gravel. Well, that was problematic. I mean, who is against gravel?

So I took some time looking into the matter. I never did find a definitive answer, but I did notice that the listing was often Patron Saint Against Colic, Fevers, Gallstones, Gravel and Kidney Stones. Which led me to believe that we aren't talking about gravel, as in gravel pit or gravel road. I'm guessing that this gravel is the tiny stones or sludge that builds up in the kidney or the gall bladder prior to the actual formation of kidney stones or gallstones. (But I'm just guessing, so if anyone knows, please tell me.) Anyhow, it did seem likely that this gravel was a medical condition.

Needless to say, there went the poem.

However, sitting there at the computer rueing the loss of my gravel inspiraton, I suddenly recalled the Facebook status of a friend this week that had involved a fox. I don't know why it popped into my head just then as I was despairing over gravel, but it did. And it reminded me of my own two incidents in life involving a fox, and then I was suddenly writing one of those down quickly in verse and it paired with a line in my notebook that I have been saving to build a poem around, which had nothing to do with foxes but still fit perfectly. And then, after a week of feeling like I was spinning my wheels, I suddenly had the first draft to a poem about foxes but not about gravel.

And that's how writing goes. I can't get to what I need to write without periods of being unable to write, without days (or weeks) of being stuck first. So being stuck is part of the writing process, which means that when I'm not writing, actively not writing as opposed to avoiding writing, I really am writing.

Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

(And I saw the funniest quote about writer's block this week too, from Quotes4Writers on Twitter: "Writer's block: when your imaginary friends won't talk to you." Anonymous)

Who Writes Short Shorts?

Here's a post on writer Simon Kewin's blog, in which he lists Twitter Fiction markets. Many of these are also Twitter Poetry markets, since when you are limited to 140 characters, the difference between poetry and prose does tend to shrink a bit.

I actually have two poems (and a third forthcoming) from one of the venues listed, Cellpoems. Check my two poems out here and here if interested.

So if you dare write short shorts......

(And if that song is stuck in your head now, here it is on YouTube.)

Prompt-O-Rama

Last week I tried a writing prompt with interesting results. I think I got this prompt from Diane Lockward's excellent monthly newsletter (which you can sign up to receive at Diane Lockward's blog here), but I'm not entirely sure, since I jotted the exercise down in my notebook but failed to cite the source (sorry!).

Here's the deal. Choose a poem you admire or like, or one that has huge leaps in it (that last suggestion is mine). Delete every other line, as in, delete all the even-numbered lines or all the odd-numbered lines. Fill the emptly lines in with your own  words.

Next, delete the lines which you did not delete before, the ones that remain from the original poem. If you deleted the even-numbered lines before, now delete the odd-numbered ones, and vice verse. Now fill in those lines with your own words, so that the only lines that remain are ones which you have written. Voila, you have a new poem, which should have the same number of lines as the original, but contain none of the original lines in it at this point.

This exercise was tons of fun for me as, having chosen a poem with big leaps in it as the original, I had to make tremendous leaps of my own to fill the alternating lines in. It was challenging and exciting and much out of my comfort zone, which often elicits interesting results. I highly recommend this exercise to you. In fact, I've chosen two more poems to work with next, as this was such a fruitful exercise for me.

So go write.

Or, if you have a favorite prompt of your own, do tell.

Shakin' It Back: Fundraiser in Tokyo

This Sunday, May 1st, Sun and Moon Yoga is hosting a fundraiser in Tokyo called Shakin' It Back: Writers for Charity for Tohoku. It will feature readers including Sawako Nakayasu and Leza Lowitz, plus music and an open mic.

The event will run from 4:30 to 7:30 at What the Dickens in Ebisu. Admission is 2000 yen. Check out their Facebook event page for more details.

What Editors Want

Here's a very good article by Lynne Barrett in The Review Review entitled "What Editors Want; A Must-Read for Writers Submitting to Literary Magazines." The first two sections are specifically about short stories, but starting from the third section "Submission" and following through "How to Receive a Rejection," "How to Respond to a Minimally Encouraging Letter," "How to Respond to a Longer, More Personal Rejection," to the concluding three sections, there is a plethora of excellent advice for anyone submitting to literary mags, including some specific, brief and appropriate language to use when it wouldn't be advisable to say what you really feel.