I've had a lot of distractions lately, family stuff, the cabins, the chapel, doing an academic course (horribly behind on that too) remodelling Kingfisher Barn to make it more marketable,,,
I'm blocked, have been for a while.
Am I filling my life with "things" to cover over the cracks in what really matters to me (writing) or is this just a phase where genuinely, the many other things are in the way, have to be done and are taking my physical and psychical energy?
Or has the well run dry?
I usually poo-poo "block". It often comes down to laziness, self-indulgence, the attitude of the wimp, but my problem is less about wanting to write or being able to put sentences together, right now it's a deep lack of worthwhile themes, kernels, ideas that will produce a story that could be aimed higher than some lowly ezine.
I'm back from a week away, trying to kick some ass in Boot Camp (feels like wresting with a blancmange) and subbing the many stories still not packed away (why does the better stuff languish, the comfortable fly off the shelf and into magazines)
That's another point, dissillusionment with the market, especially the UK.
But I know the way out of these things. READ READ READ, poetry, shorts, newsprint, and write ANYTHING. A poem, a rant (hell I could wrie an article about how to break block, I've given enough advice on the subject)
But I still feel impossibly barren.
Today's Boot Camp Early Morning Prompts.
Not Required on Journey
Behind the Mask
The English Civil War, 2027
Why Ping Pong Balls Are Never Pink
The Man Who Rushed to Catch United Airlines Flight 63
Blossom's First Kiss
Running Lights, Running Scared
Google "Slate Dreams"
A story beginning: "We were on the outs, had been for a couple of months..."
A story ending: "... but then, what did she expect?"
and these were posted too
Giant Lizards, Flightless Birds with Whiskers and Penguins in a Rainforest
Burning Ciphers on the Round of Space
Bloody Heroes, Dirty Zeroes
My Life With Master
Eating From the Freezer of Doom
Attention Scum! – A Guide to Parenting for The Working Classes
How to Divide and Conquer Via Taxation
Watching Paint Die
Bye, Bye Shadowlands
I Have Heard the Big Music (and I'll Never Be the Same)
I Left My Heart in Aberaeron
When I'm on fire (about 200 years ago) I'd get seventeen stories from the above, might well write a story combining 4-10 prompts. Now I look, read, look, read, and nothing happens, nothing happens.
You think I'm beat?
Just watch this space.