Writing Exercise

I’ve been thinking about a comment Selma made about blocks and baggage and how I deal with them. My answer? Badly. I usually fret, worry, gripe, whine, and play a LOT of solitaire on my computer. Those blocks are usually caused by too much stress and I’ve yet to find a solution to overcoming that particular steamer trunk of writer’s block.

However, sometimes a block is just too many words or ideas that have pressed themselves to the door and can no longer figure out how to get through. I won’t say this is an easy one to overcome, because I honestly don’t think ANY writer’s block is easy to break, but there is a way to get things moving again.

My favorite (lately, anyways) is to romanticize my surroundings. I made a post on my other blog about where I write, and while I didn’t exaggerate, I did omit: the mess around my desk? Gone. The cats? Skedaddled. The piles of stuff being stored in there? Invisible. Teetering stacks of books on a variety of subjects? Ignored. It’s a bit chaotic in my space, yet if I allow myself to only look at what inspires me, I can see the beauty of where I write.

Sound lame? Maybe, but sometimes if you look at where you are with different eyes, say the ones a real estate agent or copywriter would use to describe it.

Is the room small? Then call it cozy, or better yet, intimate. Is there is just enough room for you and your ideas? The walls embrace you. Do you share the space with holiday decorations? Give those decorations and the memories associated with them a thorough going-over: “Flecks of glitter wink from their confines, whispering memories of Yules past and hopes for those to come.”

Are the walls white? They could be blank slates for mental images, or don’t look at the color, look at any shadows that may fall on them. “Leaves cast hand-print shadows that wave a gentle ‘hello’ in the passing breeze.”

What’s your light source? Windows? Do they open? Are there curtains? What is the view? For instance, in the summertime, I cannot see much out my office windows because there are lots of trees close to the house. So, my view could be limited to… green. But, I can see branches and the little birds who flit among them. There are bugs (hence the birds), and if you really let go of conventional thinking; pathways for the fey folk.

No windows in your writing space? Then you probably have a lamp of some kind. What kind of glow does it produce? Soft? What color? Yellow? Green? Delicate pink? If it’s harsh, does it illuminate everything, or does it leave dark shadows that harbor mysteries?

Is the floor carpeted or bare? Wood or concrete, or even tile? Does it freeze your feet in winter, but keep them deliciously cool in summer? What sounds do your footfalls make as you walk across it? Soft or sharp, padded or staccato?

What sounds do you hear? Birds? Are they announcing their presence, or the hatching of their young? Proud? Alarmed? Or are they just vocally marking their territory with a merry song? Is there traffic of any kind, either foot or vehicle? Where are they going? Can you hear their voices or their stereos? Is it busy and constant, or infrequent and noteworthy when it happens?

Is your space in the middle of everything? What happens around you when you write? When I used to sit at the kitchen table, I could count on at least one interruption every minute or two, unless I was writing late at night, then the frequency declined somewhat. How does your environment color your writing? Does it allow you to slip into your story, or does it remind you of everything you “should” be doing instead of writing?

Which brings me to the next topic I’d like to discuss: Writer’s guilt.

Until next time.

-Karen-