Blockheads .... on a roll?

B is for Block.... as in writer's...

The only thing worse than the fear of publication is the fear of not having anything to publish. And so, the vicious cycle of doubt, depression and the horrors of the blank page do everything in their power to stifle the creative flow.... to create a 'block' as it were.....

The distraught writer can do little to prevent such tragedies, as 'Blocks' know how to creep up on the unsuspecting writer while his back is turned. And, the presence of the 'Block' is not discovered until the blinking cursor blinks in a stationary position or until the ink doodles in the corner of the page have suddenly covered the paper.

How do we survive such a menace? How do we overcome such a treacherous monster, bent on destroying our very spirit?

I say we do what we did in kindergarten----- take those writer's blocks and imagine each one as a building block, a square piece of wood or plastic. Each building block represents an actual creative block.... one for fear, one for doubt, one for time (or lack there of), one for the inner-critic, one of the inner-editor..... keep making creative building blocks until you have every pitfall visualized.

Now, build your block castle. Put every creative block in the form of a building block into the structure, with the least powerful blocks at the bottom and the strongest block at the very top (the higher this treacherous block is, the better). And once the building is complete, holding every creative block you can imagine, stand up and kick the bottom out of it! Really let the building have it. Those blocks should go flying, with the worst of the blocks going the farthest.

In essence, destroy your castle.... destroy your blocks!

There, now don't you feel better??

A to Z reflections....

Another A to Z challenge comes to an end--- another collection of posts and poetry have been written, another deep breath of relief is released. For my fellow bloggers that survived as well, it's another 'challenge-completed' notch carved into the writing desk. I've come to enjoy my yearly foray into the world of all things alphabetical. This was my third year, though it was only the second year I had a workable theme (which made the challenge substantially easier than the first year I attempted this challenge.) And, though my first year was difficult because my focus was so scattered, I found this year was more difficult because I lost the enthusiasm that came with the first year excitement----excitement which helped me plug along until the end of the challenge. Year 3 was a success in the sense that I completed the challenge, though, this was the year that almost wasn't---- Somewhere about a third of the way through the challenge, I seriously considered

A million lives, beneath a single sky.....

Though our feet leave different prints,our tongues sound different words, there's a mirrored rhythm in the beating of our hearts. Though born in different worlds, our eyes sharpened 'neath different moons, there's an unspoken truth in the warmth of our touch. We may walk in different strides and dream different dreams, we may speak in different voices, maybe swim in different streams. It's plain to see, when dark night falls, as all the stars shine through, that underneath it all, there's no difference 'tween me and you.

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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