IWSG: Springspiration!

It’s the first Wednesday in May and so far what a month it is. Due to the weird weather we’ve been having in the Northeastern United States, I keep having these dreams lately that we have snow in May – and I mean a lot of snow. Last night, I dreamed we were having a blizzard and I had to cancel plans because of it. That said, in reality, the weather has been great, finally getting a warm. For now….

This month’s optional IWSG question asks whether we write better in springtime. And absolutely! Actually, I do a lot of things a lot better in springtime, like spring cleaning, long leisurely walks, occasionally yard work. This year feels different though. Trees are finally starting to grow leaves but it’s taking them a while.

This spring feels, in a way, more so – because it’s been such a long time coming, and now I’m so glad it’s finally here. I hope. For real this time. (It may still start snowing again….)

How about you? Is it spring where you are? Does spring make you feel inspired?


IWSG: Writing Is


I decided to be a little lyrical with this one. Sorry I’m posting it late, but with work, moving and a bout of poison ivy I’ve been going a little crazy lately.. Anyway, here’s my post.


Writing is hard, I say in passing, as if talking about something
not that important to me, really.

Writing is something I feel slightly ashamed of and when I ask why I realize that – like many – as a child writing was another escape, another way of doing something other, something more


My fantasy world must not be talked about. My fantasy world must not be known.

So maybe that’s why, a little at a time, like the turtle peeping its yellow-veined green head slowly, methodically out of its shell, I speak with my tongue tasting the air all the while, sharing

Little thoughts, words, ideas,
not that much really.

Do you ever wonder how to resonate….
how two people can somehow share the same idea, the same thoughts?

How can the private be so shared and how can the shared be so private?

Writing is hard, like a turtle shell, like stubbornly choosing to be brave, to not always play it safe, while knowing at the same time you’re concealing all those things you’re revealing, all those things that can never quite be shared, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you want to. Because they’re yours. Inside.

If any of what I’ve said makes any sense – And God Knows Sometimes I Wonder – then maybe you can understand why I say: writing is hard.

Building Bridges & Finding Inspiration

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I keep meaning to blog more and it’s hard largely because my thoughts feel all frozen. Today, I had lunch by the Susquehanna River and took this picture of the river, which is completely frozen over.

We’ve had an especially cold few days and today was the first day it was not dangerously cold so I was pretty desperate to get outside, clear my mind and find some inspiration. Yesterday I spent most of my writing day annoyedly poring over a fiction novel that needs some heavy editing, to the point where I wonder – in all seriousness – why bother? Like the river covered with snow, doesn’t seem like a whole lot is happening here.

And who knows if the water is running beneath the ice? (Probably.) And who knows what would happen if I set foot onto the ice and tried to cross over? (Probably not a great idea.)

As I gazed out at the frozen river, I found myself thinking of the Bering Strait and how ancient peoples braved that icy abyss in order to come here and claim this land. Some of those people, in fact, gave their name to this river – The Susquehanna.

Who knows what will happen if? All I know for sure is I need to continue to try, because – there really is no choice. It’s write or die, live or die, venture out into the unknown or acquiesce to what is inevitable.

Such is life, I suppose.

What do you think?

Looking for Inspiration (and Discipline – Mostly Discipline)

I really want to be able to say I just don’t feel inspired. I don’t have anything to write about. But the opposite is true. There are so many ideas running around in my head.


Throwing things.

Looking for attention.

The trick is to try and catch just one or two of them and get them to sit still for long enough to decide if I can get them to be well-behaved enough to be interesting AND open to being captured in the written word.

I wonder how often writer’s block is really just that – the moment when your mind goes blank as a hundred thoughts clamber for your attention.

This is probably why God invented meditation.