Blocked?

He sat under his favorite tree by the river, enjoying the cool late summer breeze as it passed over the water. This was HIS place - his getaway for a bit of solitude and a few minutes away from everyday distractions. Yet he sat with pencil in hand, unable to break the block. The blank page seemed to mock his inability to fill it...

A number of years ago, I was the "he" in the brief scene above. Writer's block had morphed into full-blown writer's constipation. Every project I was working on sat unfinished. The time I set aside for writing would come and go with nothing but blank pages, or maybe a few scribbled out sentence fragments. So I ventured to my favorite riverside spot, figuring it would inspire fresh work. It did not.

I arrived home dejected, and suddenly was hit with a bright idea. I would break the block by crafting a story ABOUT writer's block! Genius, right?

Umm, clearly that didn't work either, since I didn't get any farther than what you see above.

I was rummaging through some old scrap work and journal entries looking for prompts or ideas for a contest piece, and discovered the little snippet from years ago. I smiled, feeling good that I'm not suffering through the same struggle now.

Then I reflected a moment. The novel I set out to write many years ago still sits in a dusty binder, no closer to finished than it was eight years ago when I set it aside. The novel project that "replaced" it? Stormed along at a breakneck pace - then stalled. It hasn't been touched in close to a year. Frankly, the only long piece I've made progress on began its life as a 1000-1200 word short story for a contest.  It quickly outgrew that, but I have no idea where it's going to end up - the story just keeps pouring out.

Meanwhile, things that I want to work on, like other contest pieces, are a battle.

Maybe I smiled too soon.

Capture

These few lines have taken on a life of their own since I wrote them nearly two years ago for a writing group I belong to, and are the first lines - and the driving idea - of the novel I am currently working on.  Maybe it will even be finished some day.

Beautiful is far too cliche for a girl like her - and not terribly accurate either.

Entrancing, or maybe captivating?

Yes, captivating - that's the right word. I was definitely a captive from the first moment I looked into that girl's intoxicating deep brown eyes.

Listen to me, calling her a 'girl' like I'm some pubescent teen chasing the head cheerleader - no, she was all woman.

And she turned my world inside out like a tidal wave - completely fascinating, yet utterly devastating.

It's a little bit funny.......

As I write this post, I find myself thinking of Pedro Cerrano.

Pedro Cerrano was the home-run hitter for the Indians in the hilarious movie "Major League".  But he had one major problem:

He couldn't hit a curveball if you gave him a sniper rifle and stopped the ball mid-pitch.  Which led to many very humorous moments throughout the movie, until at the end of course, where in cliche Hollywood style he finds a way to hit the curveball to be one of the big heroes.

What exactly does any of this have to do with writing?

Well, I find myself facing curveballs lately.  For example, the pieces I mentioned for the Safety Pin Review (see previous post) were all rejected.  Not fun, right?  But the email I received from the site's owners was not only personal (rather than a cheesy form letter), but it contained positive comments about my writing.

And those positive comments are the only non-familial positive feedback I've received in a long time.  In a freaking rejection letter.

Another example: my book(s).  Several years ago, I began work on a novel.  A novel that has sat dormant for months because I kind of lost my way on the story and haven't had the energy or inspiration to try to drag it back on course.

Meanwhile, the only real productive work I've accomplished lately is on what I think is becoming a novel.  A piece that started out as a six sentence short, but somehow took on a life of its own.  A book that I didn't set out to write has far and away eclipsed the book that I've struggled toward for the last few years.

Which of course, isn't productive at all in the short run, leading to curveball number three - the only writing that seems to be flowing out of me lately is work that isn't suitable to submit to paying markets or contests, while I'm so blocked on those type of pieces that I've missed deadlines on well over half of the contests and markets I've targeted.

I need a bigger bat.