Writing about Writer's Block.....go figure.....
I made a woeful showing in last week's lj_scribe , but C'est la vie, as they say - many thanks to my lovely f-list for kindly +1-ing me - I appreciated the support.
Pity, I quite liked it, for a rush job - as, if I'm being honest, nearly all my stuff is, my poetry and lyrics, that is, and sometimes prose - it tends to either come in one big rush, or not at all -
I tidy up afterwards, but if the initial idea and basic outline doesn't come in about 20 minutes, I find it usually doesn't come at all, for me.
There's always exceptions, but that's how it usually is, anyway.
I do enjoy working from a prompt, however, I find it fun, so thought I'd pop over again and see what they had for me this week -
“Underneath the starless skies, where the mud flats met the lake, sat a girl with wild eyes, burning with an old mistake”...
It did absolutely nothing for me..... the cadence was wrong for a rhyming poem, and I thought it bore too strong a resemblance to last week's prompt - but I got out my notebook, wrote it down, (I still like to write my poetry in longhand) and tried.....nada.......so I wrote about that.
Life's a funny thing, sometimes, isn't it?
Writer's Block by darklotus1211
“Underneath the starless skies,
where the mud flats met the lake,
sat a girl with wild eyes,
burning with an old mistake”......and then...........nothing.
Nothing but a swirling mist, rather turbulent from her efforts to fish something out of it - with the barest glimpses of words, phrases and half formed ideas rising to the surface, just discernible enough to tantalise - then being swept beneath the surface again, before she could hook them and anchor them firmly enough to even get a decent look.
She tore the page from her notebook, crumpled it, and shook her head sharply and repeatedly in frustration, as if her train of thought were scribed on an old etch-a-sketch, and the action would leave a blank, silver surface on which to begin a brand new work of scribbly art.
A not completely successful tactic, for, as is like an old etch-a-sketch, the ghost of the previous effort was still lingering, keeping her from starting anew.
She hated it when this happened.
_________________________
It was supposed to be no more than 100 words, not including the prompt - I went over, but ....oh well, shit happens, as they say.
It's up now, here's the link ( Writer's Block. ) and if you like it, do the +1 thingy - really, though.... no pressure, and if you feel inspired to go for it yourself - please do -