The problem with living an interesting life surrounded by interesting people is that you’re constantly inspired but can never write anything for fear of insulting someone…
I find that just sitting and listening to music is one of the best ways to get inspired. I like listening to instrumental movie soundtracks to pump up my muse and get her ready for the next writing session. If you are interested in listening along, I have put together a Writerly Concerns playlist on Spotify. Come be inspired!
Good writers are good readers.
I never believed in this sentiment. I thought that any story worth telling would pour out of you, unhindered and unadulterated by the influence of others. Until now. Thanks to a fairly intense editing class, I have been force fed an abundance of short stories by American greats, analyzing them to death in quick succession and without time to pause for breath.
I have also started writing short stories, coming out of a year-long writers’ block by breaking into a format I had not seriously attempted before. Coincidence? I think not…
There is always something extremely lonely about the feeling of inspiration. When the puzzle pieces finally fit together, when it clicks, when the shadowy, tenuous plot holes are suddenly stitched up with a glorious, glowing thread … No one but the author can truly understand how perfect and complete that moment is.
hiraeth (Welsh, n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.
Have you ever wanted to write an entire novel based on a single definition?
Still trying to come up with the perfect formula for an inspired writing session. I’m curious for feedback:
Do you prefer to carve out a tight hour or two in a busy schedule? Is it more helpful to have an entire lazy weekend in which to write several languid sentences? At this point I’m willing to try anything . . .
I just saved a new work-in-progress with the title ‘The Book I Wish I’d Written’. The prompt is really helping . . . I’ve pumped out 3,000 words in under two hours!
Today my older cousin had a baby. What a contribution to the world – a brand new human being, a soul, a real live person. Nothing I could ever write – no matter how brilliant – could compete with that kind of pure, sacred creation.
When I idolize those authors who became famous through their works, when people in my life insist upon predicting my own fame, it is easy to lose sight of the goal. Today I shook myself free of the burden of needing to become famous. Ultimately, I need to be writing for passion, for me. Fame, posthumous notability, the opinions of others must all be secondary.