“What I try to do is write. I may write for two weeks ‘the cat sat on the mat, that is that, not a rat,’…. And it might be just the most boring and awful stuff. But I try. When I’m writing, I write. And then it’s as if the muse is convinced that I’m serious and says, ‘Okay. Okay. I’ll come.” ― Maya Angelou
And while you’re playing mind games with your muse, try some mental manipulation. If invention is the mind’s misfire, the key to inspiration lies in self-deception: http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius?language=en
Of all good writing. What is at stake in yours?
Description necessities human observation.
What does your setting word choice imply about the personality and preferences of the narrator?
How can these intentional choices develop plot or poetic theme?
Don’t let the “yellow drapes description” be a missed opportunity.
If I had a wish, it would be for your continued success in your craft. Warning: that success might take the form of failure. Sorry, I know how the hurt pounds. Breathe (seed-blown wishes). They will settle. They will grow.
Threatening storm. Pastel. GLYN OVERTON. 14 : 1 : 2015.
Sustainable Arts Foundation Writing Grants
Spring deadline: February 27, 2015 (5 p.m., Pacific Time; note that the online application will be activated and available on January 15.)
NO APPLICATION FEE
“Our program focuses on awards to individual artists and writers with families. Specifically, the applicant must have at least one child under the age of 18. We welcome applicants from anywhere, but will give some preference to residents of the San Francisco bay area.” NB: “There will be multiple winners” for both the Writing Award and the Visual Arts Award (each award pays $6,000). Also note: “Additionally, we will be awarding a number of smaller Promise Awards to those applicants whose work may not qualify for the main awards, but nonetheless demonstrates both skill and potential.”
Go to: http://thisboringdiscomfort.tumblr.com/post/109265704269/on-february-24-discomfort-by-evelyn-hampton-will
From the site: “On February 24, Discomfort by Evelyn Hampton will be released. On March 2, This Boring Apocalypse by Brandi Wells will be released. In the near future, these books have already been printed. They are in the world. They are riding subways, they are wandering streets. Find these ghosts from the future, capture an image of them, and send the image to us. You’ll be entered in a drawing to win a copy of each book. Four names will be drawn. You may enter once.
Images will be posted on this site as we get them.
The contest is open from February 1 – 20. We’ll announce the four randomly chosen winners here on February 23rd. Winners will also be notified by email.
Send a picture of the ghost from the future of Discomfort and/or This Boring Apocalypse by February 20 to: email@example.com”
Check this out: http://www.ted.com/talks/mihaly_csikszentmihalyi_on_flow
“The wise man knows himself to be a fool,” Shakespeare (the fool).
In an article William Leith in 1991, DeLillo said, “I write to find out how much I know,” he said. “The act of writing for me is a concentrated form of thought. If I don’t enter that particular level of concentration, the chances are that certain ideas never reach any level of fruition.”
There are many ways within you, some carpeted with bright electric light, some slippery as stones strung through a pond. How very brave that you should venture forth despite reflections, murky and florescent; to uncover what you know.
Even the discarded bits of life can be distracting. Don’t let anything occupy those precious moments carved out for writing.
Obligations and people demand time. If they love you, they will understand. “‘It is only half an hour’—‘it is only an afternoon’—‘it is only an evening’—people say to me over and over again—but they don’t know that it is impossible to command oneself sometimes to any stipulated and set disposal of five minutes—or that the mere consciousness of an engagement will sometimes worry a whole day. These are the penalties paid for writing books. Whoever is devoted to an Art must be content to deliver himself wholly up to it, and find his recompense in it. I am grieved if you suspect me of not wanting to see you, but I can’t help it.” —Charles Dickens (writing to Maria Beadnell Winter, a childhood sweetheart, who wished to make an appointment with him)