Plotting, planning, always writing


“There is just something so freeing in writing by the seat of your pants, the flow simply pouring into any tale possible… but the editing of said supposed masterpiece is pure hell!” Gun Roswell

Plotting, planning, always writing

The guidelines for any good writing, apparently are those of careful planning, plot devising and character development, not to mention world building and keeping it in the rigid story structure as taught by the myriad of books out there for novice and even the more advanced writers and those whom are still searching for their, thing?

Sure, but if those same teachers also urge the bard to write what they know? About their lived life, the things around them, the daily grind? Well, then far off are we as life, really has no such structure. Unless you count the birth, living and death as such, a three act structure perhaps?

But then, how can you write that story if you are still living?

Okay, taking things to the very extremes as this author usually tends to do, no matter life, writing or well, plotting the secret world domination…oops, that one was supposed to be a secret? Guess the cat is once again popping out of the bag eh?

But I do digress.

The type of writer, no matter what the books, the tubes, the articles might just suggest are only guilders, recommendations. After all, writing, is an art form along any other similar activity. And whether you prefer to write whatever pops up into your wicked little mind and do not care about plotting, planning and such, then you are as correct to be doing so as those whom simply love to plot and plan and whatnot.

It’s all good, as long, as you keep on, writing.

As there is no right or wrong way, to simply sit down and write.

Selfies in the Mirror for The Daily Post (Two)

Posted in the Daily Post: Mirror
Photography /Poetry /Humour

"I stare at myself in the mirror and I think,
'Wow, I'm really great-looking.'...
I think I'm the greatest, anyway"
Iggy Pop

Selfies in the Mirror for The Daily Post

Around and around we all flock
Each other’s views trying to block
Stabbing each other’s backs
Until the mirror almost cracked

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Quote a Week Tuesday (2016-05-24)

Posted in Quote a Week Tuesday

Write, Think, Read

“I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.”
― Flannery O’Connor

Quote a Week Tuesday (2016-05-24)

For this week’s quote, I have chosen two thoughts for those moments, when you hit that phase, where you are staring at the blank screen, ready to start pulling your hair and pondering on; WHY? WHY? WHY?

“I write only because
There is a voice within me
That will not be still”
― Sylvia Plath, Letters Home

Why Write

Serially Lost in Fiction (TBT)

Posted in the Throwback Thursday weekly series
Poetry, photography, tales and things that nature!

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“Row, row, row your boat, Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Life is but a dream.”

Serially Lost in Fiction

Writer’s note: This content is the work of pure fiction and is in no way associated to the writer ;P

The best guideline for any writer is to read, read and read some more. With all available resources, carrying a “book” around is easy as pie and you can read anywhere. There is a downside to this though and I found that out the hard way: I got caught between the realm of reality and fantasy.

It started slowly, reading a short story here, another there. Then things started to escalate. I was hooked up on longer stories, even sequels and serial ones. It had gotten to the point where I was reading on the bus stop, in the bus, at lunch, on coffee break. When I got home from work I could not wait to rush through my daily chores and emerge myself in more stories.

Feeling like the children who found Narnia, I was devouring all kinds of the stories. Re-enacting some of them in my sleep. Even taking part in conversations with my imaginary new friends in my head.

Staying up until late hours, reading, reading, reading. Sleep was scarce, almost non-existent. Drinking lots of coffee was the only remedy to somehow muddle through my work days. Even during the day fantasizing of the time I was back home and able to fully concentrate on my reading.

Then I got a wake up call. It was in the form of an intervention from my family and friends. I was on my way from work like usual and happily thinking on my next read. And there they were, sitting in the living room, waiting for me. Not a tablet, laptop, book reader nor an actual book in sight!

They sat me down gently and told me in no small way how my constant reading was affecting them.
I could not believe they would dare confronting me like this. After all, I was only reading for leisure.

Bewildered and utterly distraught I dwelled in self pity for a few days. Locking myself in my room and reporting in sick. I decided “to hell with it” and emerged in even more reading. For four days and four nights apart from potty breaks I read anything and everything.

After those days, I guess something got me thinking. Could have been the sleep deprivation, could have been the fact I had hardly eaten, but I realized I was in over my head. Then and there I decided it was time for a change.

 Next stop: Reality? Who’s Brilliant Idea Was That?

help

Reality? Who’s Brilliant Idea Was That? (TBT)

Posted in the Throwback Thursday weekly series
Poetry, photography, tales and things that nature!

Part Two of Serially Lost in Fiction

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“Losing an illusion makes you wiser than finding a truth”  Ludwig Borne

Reality? Who’s Brilliant Idea Was That?

“You really need to pull it together and clean up your act!”

The words still echoing in my head from the intervention. The whole thing had made me extremely angry. But after my initial tantrum had subsided, I was willing to admit I had a problem.

So now, I needed a plan, but it was going to be hard. I had two choices, to gradually wean myself off of all that fiction and fantasy or go cold turkey. I estimated it would take around two to three weeks or so either way. I chose the latter option. I did not trust myself, suspecting the gradual way I would only make excuses and not read any less.

The options at hand would be then to:

a) Get rid of every single piece of technology or readable book.
b) Lock myself in an empty room at home.
c) Travel to a far away place, preferably a cottage in the middle of the forest somewhere without any creature comforts.

I chose plan c. It seemed the best option, since my family owned a cottage some hundred kilometers up north. There was no electricity, no running water, basically nothing but survival against the wilderness. Well, to be honest, the nearest shop was only five kilometres away, so not a god forsaken place after all.

Since the margin of me running off mid process, my family opted to drive me there and I would then have a bike to use for my trips to buy groceries. And that being my only option of transportation, it would be highly unlikely I would run off on a bike.

So it was agreed and I was on my way to the cottage in the woods with only my necessities.

reality?-rant

Next stop: Time for a Reality Check?

Time for a Reality Check? (TBT)

Posted in the Throwback Thursday weekly series
Poetry, photography, tales and things that nature!

Part Three of Reality? Who’s Brilliant Idea Was That?

reality?-rant

“It is strange because sometimes, I read a book, and I think I am the people in the book”

Time for a Reality Check?

So there I was, in the middle of the woods, all by my lonesome. No where to hide, no where to run.
I was in for a challenge. Not only because of me detoxing from the fiction I was greatly hooked up on at this point, but also living in an archaic house without any creature comforts.

I watched the car drive off, and then I was finally alone. Time to start the battle with the demons!
I went inside the wooden cabin finding a layer of dust settling on the surfaces. Sighing deeply and thinking ‘Welcome to the labour camp’. Placing my rucksack on the chair closest to me, I rolled up my sleeves and started cleaning up.

Windows and door open to get the air circulating. Making do with an old broom to swipe the floors. Luckily I had brought some cleaning wipes with me. Those would come in handy while dusting the surfaces.

A few hours later I looked around and the place was spick and span clean. It was time for the evening meal and I was unpacking my bag. I had several cans of food, some crackers and a juice canister. Now all I needed was water and wood!

The rest of my day went pretty much doing chors like cutting wood and hauling water from the well.
A few more hours went by and I was inside getting the wooden stow started. When the fire was burning nicely, I opened one of the cans, pea soup of course, good for any camper!

It was night fall and I had my little oil lamp burning and the fire was going keeping me warm. It had been a little bit of an effort, but luckily some smart Alec had written instructions now hanging on the wall next to fireplace.

So there I was without a care in the world, my stomach full with soup and juice. I was wondering how people managed to get anything else done in the olden days. Most of the daylight hours seemed to be wasted on cleaning and gathering necessities for meal preparation.

Then I realized I needed to use the facilities. Unfortunately there was only an outhouse and it was a bit tricky to navigate there in the dark. I had my torch with me so that helped a little. I just hoped no wildlife were close by feeling peckish and thinking I was food.

The routine for the two week period was pretty much the same every day. Get up at dawn, because the birds were screaming in the trees, hunt and gather for nourishment. The cottage grounds actually had a pretty good assortment of various berries and luckily it was the season for most of them.

In the end, I did not even miss reading, anything, fiction or otherwise. I didn’t have time, when the real life hit me hard, and using a log to do it!

Let’s see what happens when I finally get back home, where all the temptations await me!

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Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, and a Writer (Repost for TBT)

Posted in the Throwback Thursday Series
Poetry, photography, tales and things that nature!

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“I’m a writer and, therefore, automatically a suspicious character” – Alfred Hitchcock

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, and a Writer

Looking into
A writers mind
You may phew
On what you find

Look in,
Carefully

Surprisingly
Lurking
Emerging

A

Tinker, Tailor,
Soldier, Sailor,
Rich Man, Poor Man,
Beggar Man, Thief

Peeping Tom, Stalker
Pervert, Prude 
Sister, Brother
Loud Mouth, Mute

A

Antagonist
Protagonist
Killer, Saviour
Bad behaviour?

Winner, Looser
Coward, Hero
Or simply a Zero?

Storyteller, Liar
Truth teller, Denier

A questionable character?
Or just a clever Actor?
Psychopath,
Or, on a Path?

Writer, Politician, or a Crook?
Did I get you hooked?

hitch

Stuck Between a Poem and a Hard Place (Repost for TBT)

An homage to Poetry

“Breathe-in experience, breathe-out poetry” Muriel Rukeyser

Stuck Between a Poem and a Hard Place

I am a poet
But did not know it
Now I am writing
Lyrics without biting
The bullets
My mind to the fullest
Hammering the keyboard
Not a big chore
No, not anymore

Ever since I started
I cannot be parted
From the blank page
That clean slate
Words pouring
My heart roaring
I feel elevated
Totally animated
Full of excitement

I am completely and utterly
Lost in Poetry

A poem a day keeps the Shrink away!

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Farewell (Writing 101, A Poem A Day)

Writing 101, A Poem A Day, Day 10, Farewell
Poetry & Photography

Write a poem about a farewell today: perhaps this image may bring back memories of loved ones who passed, or revive memories of those that departed from our lives. Or you could focus on the more mundane, but still powerful moments of your daily goodbye rituals, whether it’s a friend, partner, or member of your family.

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“Farewell, fair cruelty” William Shakespeare

Farewell

Farewell, good bye, so long
Everyone try to stay strong
Sadness, drama, comedy
Who said saying farewell was easy?

Farewell may be forever
But never say never
Our world is still round
And what is sometimes lost
Usually, can be found
After all, we are all bound
In this tiny part of universe
Our paths may once again cross
May we remember this verse

Farewell, good bye, so long
Consider life a song
Keep chanting and stay strong
Old friends may soon come along

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