Random Acts Of Mental Constipation

[erise]

Some of the more prominenet authors out there seems to preach that the key to doing this is to write. To never stop and never wait for the muse to whisper in your ear. Sit down and type stuff, it will wake up the muse, an she will start whispering in your ear eventually.

Fine, but what if you're high on jasmine tea, your guinea pig is an attention junkie and the inner dictionary is glued shut?

That is me right now. I sit down, not trying to write a masterpiece, but just anything. And not one single word comes out. You would guess that I could at least steal a "It was a dark and stormy..." but not even that occurs to me. I open a blank Word document, and as long as I look at it I can't even form a coherent thought.

Pixie needs pellets and a playmate, so I shut down that mocking blank page. I'm a loser, a failed writer. Pixie loves me anyway. But she loves pellets more, and starts whining when my presence doesn't immediately include fresh grub.

Just thought I'd share my afternoon with you. How has your day been?

 

[neonlyte]

Write about Pixie!

When you get to the end do a search and replace, fur for skin, four legs for two, you can probably leave the whining in.
















I jest.

 

[rgraham666]

Are we related? Or is my bunny at least related to your guinea pig?

Haven't written a word for two days.

And my bunny isn't an attention junky, although he demands a fair bit. He has become addicted to lettuce. Every time I re-enter my room, he runs up to me with a look that says 'lettuce?' I gave him some five minutes ago and it's now gone. Now he's moved on to his other addiction, alfalfa hay.

Sigh. I think he eats more than I do.

Luckily, he's never made a noise.

 

[CharleyH]

Some of the more prominenet authors out there seems to preach that the key to doing this is to write. To never stop and never wait for the muse to whisper in your ear. Sit down and type stuff, it will wake up the muse, an she will start whispering in your ear eventually.

Fine, but what if you're high on jasmine tea, your guinea pig is an attention junkie and the inner dictionary is glued shut?

That is me right now. I sit down, not trying to write a masterpiece, but just anything. And not one single word comes out. You would guess that I could at least steal a "It was a dark and stormy..." but not even that occurs to me. I open a blank Word document, and as long as I look at it I can't even form a coherent thought.

Pixie needs pellets and a playmate, so I shut down that mocking blank page. I'm a loser, a failed writer. Pixie loves me anyway. But she loves pellets more, and starts whining when my presence doesn't immediately include fresh grub.

Just thought I'd share my afternoon with you. How has your day been?

The muse is awakened by living and fantasy, friend. I have never heard a writer here say write when blocked When blocked, I give a concept, or talk about something, and people respond. Sometimes it spurs me to write, but mostly,walking, listening to conversations in restaurants, or riding the crowded subway with tits and asses in my face? It is how you see the world. That - simply - is writing.

 

[Colleen Thomas]

Some of the more prominenet authors out there seems to preach that the key to doing this is to write. To never stop and never wait for the muse to whisper in your ear. Sit down and type stuff, it will wake up the muse, an she will start whispering in your ear eventually.

Fine, but what if you're high on jasmine tea, your guinea pig is an attention junkie and the inner dictionary is glued shut?

That is me right now. I sit down, not trying to write a masterpiece, but just anything. And not one single word comes out. You would guess that I could at least steal a "It was a dark and stormy..." but not even that occurs to me. I open a blank Word document, and as long as I look at it I can't even form a coherent thought.

Pixie needs pellets and a playmate, so I shut down that mocking blank page. I'm a loser, a failed writer. Pixie loves me anyway. But she loves pellets more, and starts whining when my presence doesn't immediately include fresh grub.

Just thought I'd share my afternoon with you. How has your day been?

Erise,

Do you not realize you have just written something powerful? I feel I know Pixie, and I know her only through your words. That's the essence of writing, communication through words of concrete concepts, delivered in the abstract of words.

Write about your day, about your pet, about her pellets, but just write. If you can bring a loveable, if slightly vexing pet to life for me, you can you do so much more. You are on the right track, even if you feel sometimes a train is coming.

Colly

 

[Guest]

What Colly said.

Put 'em to work. Write up your furry friends.

http://www.addis-welt.de/smilie/smilie/tierbunny/c02.gif http://www.addis-welt.de/smilie/smilie/tier/c03.gif

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Write what you dream about.

As long as it isn't cream cheese and bagels, it should work out.

 

[logophile]

I open a blank Word document, and as long as I look at it I can't even form a coherent thought.

I can sit and stare at that blank Word doc until my eyes hurt. It's like waiting for a stop sign to turn green. Takes a long time.

Maybe our muses ran off together, cause mine's gone right now too. And she stole my whiskey.

 

[sophia jane]

Maybe our muses ran off together, cause mine's gone right now too. And she stole my whiskey.

Thieving bitch.

SJ

 

[cloudy]

Thieving bitch.

SJ

Y'all haven't heard? They all followed Min and Becca to Vegas, and the last I heard, they were still there.

 

[Guest]

you can probably leave the whining in.

And the purring. All my lovers purr contently after...

 

[shiresa]

Maybe try reading someone else's stories?

Not saying to use their ideas, just use the story as mental drano

 

[Guest]

Write what you dream about.

As long as it isn't cream cheese and bagels, it should work out.

Got something against cream cheese and bagels? Add some lox and you got a nice BDSM.

 

[Guest]

Got something against cream cheese and bagels? Add some lox and you got a nice BDSM.

Nahhh, it gets all sticky in the nipple clamps.

 

[sophia jane]

Nahhh, it gets all sticky in the nipple clamps.

Nothing worse than sticky nipple clamps.

SJ

 

[Guest]

Nothing worse than sticky nipple clamps.

SJ

Ain't that the truth.

 

[Guest]

Nahhh, it gets all sticky in the nipple clamps.

That sounds fishy to me.

 

[RhymeFairy]

Sorry to hear about your constipation.

I am just the opposite today,
been writing and posting ALLLLLL day long.
Wow what a long day for me. I have had so much fun.
I do know I have to quit soon, or I am gonna go berserk...

Pardon my gustiness ...
Why don't ya try reading the threads, all over Lit..
Here at AH and also on the Poetry boards...
It seems to help me a lot..
Just my opinion~

Good Luck to you my friends~
Happppy Happppy Writing~

Like a faucet, once ya cut it on ...
ya might not be able to cut it off...

 

[erise]

Write what you dream about.

As long as it isn't cream cheese and bagels, it should work out.

Guess what I dreamed about last night...

 

[erise]

Thanks for all the great advice. I wasn't really asking for it, just whining about my droll day. I could write a whole novel on Pixie and her quirks, but I think I'll pass. She couldn't read it anyway.

Sticky nipple clamps? Yeah, I could do something with that.

 

[RhymeFairy]

he whispers in my ear
telling me naughty things
what he wants
my desire
zingssss

whole night of love
taking our time
lighting the path
all is mine

to be and have
take command
my muse tells me
mmmmm what a man

he is the light
my tunnel he dives into
ears ring
from all he does do

champion of all
taking what he wants
telling me
what I can do

showing the path
all that is a naughty delight
whispering tales
of sin ... contemplation's hand

grabbing his head
pouty mouth that locks
locking him there
where it all clicks

moist wet center
alighting the gloom
as passion explodes
baby ... shoot for the moon~

 

[Virtual_Burlesque]

erise,

I am one of those writers who recommend writing until something in the putrid mass solidifies into a story. Then, edit it (a LOT of editing sometimes) into a useable form. (If you show confidence in your Muse, she will show confidence in you.)



Anyway, I just want to add my vote to the thought that Colly first mentioned.

You just wrote a great vignette about your relationship with Pixie. Not only that, but the line you wrote about jasmine tea and a glued shut inner dictionary, was a winner (both as picturesqueness and as humour.)

I understand that the market for guinea pig stories is limited, but have you considered writing a story that features Pixie as a human with a fur fetish, played for humour?

It seems like you are in the proper mood for that.

 

[cantdog]

Colly and Burley have excellent points (as all can see!), but so does Charley. Life. It is, after all the grist. Without it, a mill is so much sterile machinery.

Perceive your existence. Describe your perceptions. If the Bijou is not inspiring, look at the front of the Bijou fron the other side of the street. Not working? Try the upper left hand brick.

The subway is good, too. The girl asleep next the soldier-- what is her story? Does she sleep on the Metro to horrify her mother?

 

[SeaCat]

LOLOL When I first saw this thread I thought it was about some of my co-workers.

I agree with Charley here. Write about life. Use something from what happened to you. Maybe you can expand upon it or maybe you can write about something that happened to someone you know. Look around you, life is full of interesting stories. (All are worth writing about, it just takes the right author.)

Cat

 

[RhymeFairy]

The moon shines bright
This is our time
Watching
As he comes to me
Paradise is so close.

To the steamy depths
Quivering an shivering
Wanting so much
I need this so
My heart grows.

Feel his warmth
upon my lips
Needing that kiss
he promised
Jerking him close
Cupping his ass
Feeling his hard body
pressed to mine.

Mouth to mouth
Chest to breast
Hip to hip
Thigh to thigh
Mmmm yessss!

Tongues finally meeting
Dancing upon the moon
Hard an greedy
Taking so much
Soft sighs
Warm breaths
Lil sexy pants.

Bodies clinging
Hands capturing
Lips melting
The wait was so long
Never letting go.

Nibbling upon each other
Taking our hearts desire
Worshipping
as only we can
Long hard love
Slow sweet swivels
an grinds

Fireworks exploding
all around
Touching the moon
Heaven bound
Sweaty~ sated bodies
Touching the ground

Beeper blasting
Time stops
Waiting for that moment
I know our time is
at an end.

Softly he whispers
"I have to go."
Heart stops
Breathing no more
Eyes pained
Empty again.

Watching him leave
Yet again
Thinking
an dreamin
Wanting
an craving

When will I learn
I cant stop the wind
The moon shines bright
Heaven was so close
His taste still upon my lips

Waiting here
once more
For my man
Watching the sun
Knowing the moon
will rise again
And maybe
Just maybe
Bring him back
to me~

~~~~~~~~~~~

Had to be said ~

Me~