WRITER'S BLOCKA Lesson by Domenic Luciani
tips on kicking writer's block in the figurative nuts.
At some point, this happens/happened to every writer who has ever written, even the famous ones. You'll be writing a story, it sounds great, you're excitied to write more, and then . . . bam. Something happens in your mind and you can't think of what to say. The story comes to dead halt. You're sitting there, eyes bloodshot, heart pounding, the only thought in your head is what the hell? Maybe you have thoughts of throwing your computer out the window.
Anyways . . . The best way to get over writer's block, is to write, and the best thing to write when you can't think of anything else is a short short story. That's not a typo. A short short story. These stories are anywhere from a paragraph to a sentence in length, should take only a few seconds to write, and (I'm serious, people) it works. This story can be about anything, any character, and at any point you want it to be. It could be smack in the center of an action. It doesn't even need to make sense because this is for you.
Here are two examples. The first is by Antonia Clark, the second by Brian Hinshaw.
Excuses I have already used---
He hit me first. She called me four eyes. The dog ate it. It's not my turn. Everybody else was doing it. My alarm didn't go off. I didn't know it was due. My grandmother died. It went through the wash. My roomate threw it in the trash. He got me drunk. He said he loved me. He said he'd pull it out in time. She pulled out right in front of me. I didn't know how you felt. I was only trying to help. was in a hurry. It was on sale. I needed a little pick-me-up. It calms my nerves. They looked too good to resist. It sounded like such a good deal. Hospitals give me the creeps. He's probably tired of visitors. He didn't even recognize me last time. There were extra expenses this month. My vote wouldn't have counted anyway. The kids were driving me nuts. I didn't have time. My watch must have stopped. I couldn't find the instructions. The dishwasher's broken. Somebody else used it last. I forgot my checkbook. I gave at the office. I've got a headache. I've got my period. It's too hot. I'm too tired. I had to work late. I got stuck in traffic. I couldn't get away. I couldn't let them down. I didn't know to say no. We were thrown together by circumstance. He made me feel like a woman again. I didn't know what I was doing. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I've been up to my eyeballs. The flight was delayed. The car broke down. My hard drive crashed. I've got a call waiting. I'm flat out. Life is too short. It's too late to go back.
The job would get boring if you didn't mix it up a little. Like this woman in 14-A, the nurses called her the mickingbird, start any song and this old lady would sing it through. Couldn't speak, couldn't eat a lick of solid food, but she sang like a house on fire. So for a kick, I would get in there with my mop and such, prop the door open with the bucket, and set her going. She was best at the songs you'd sing in a group -- "Oh, Susanna," campfire and stuff. Any kind of Christmas song worked good, too, and it always cracked the nurses if I could get her into "Let it Snow" during a heat spell. We'd try to make her take up a song from the radio or some of the old songs with cursing in them, but she would never forget those. Although I once had her do "How dry I am" while Nurse Winchell fussed with the catheter.
Yesterday, her daughter, or maybe granddaughtercomes in while 14-A and I were partways into "Auld Lang Syne" and the daughter says "oh oh oh" like she had interrupted scintillating conversation and then she takes a long look at 14-A lying there in the gurney with her eyes shut and her curled up hands, taking a cup of kindness yet, And the daughter looks at me the way a girl does at the end of an old movie and says "my god," says "you're an angel," and now I can't do it anymore, can hardly step in her room.
If you want something shorter, there are sentences fragments. I wrote these myself.
-- The dentist looked up from the mouth of his latest patient to witness a man enter the room with a gun held to his head. Not again, the dentist thought, shaking his head.
-- If ever there was a moment when one was in love, it was when he gazed upon the carny woman with no arms and four legs.
-- a bomb had exploded in the car next to him. He wasn't surprised, or even fazed. In fact, he was annoyed it hadn't gone off earlier.
-- The sky darkened, but over to the left of the horizon. He judged the wind and realized he wouldn't get a drop of rain. Oh, well, he thought. He guessed his crops could go another century without water.
-- Something fell from the sky, a piece of paper, black at the edges where it had been burned. Above it, a flaming city crashed into the earth.
Write your own stories and get rid of that damned writer's block.
Added on August 25, 2010
Last Updated on August 25, 2010
AboutThat is my real name, and that is really me in the picture. Like Patrick says, I'm not in the witness protection program. I mostly write books and stories. I like fantasy, or fiction, but if..