Take These Hands and Make Some Use

 I often ask myself "Who am I?" to speak, to share, to voice my opinion. 

I realized today that I am no one, but that I can become someone. 

I've had the tools at my disposal to elevate myself to a place where my voice can be heard. 

I just need to use these tools to create that voice, to make the person worthy of speaking and sharing. 

Once that elevation has occurred then I will be able to answer that initial question of "Who am I?".

I will be an author, a thinker, a creator, a storyteller, a listener, a scholar, a scribe, and eventually a sage. 

If you strive for mediocrity you will always succeed, if you strive for success you will fail until you succeed. 

An Artist on Art

I have a shining bobble, whatever shall I do? 

I have a shining bobble that I wish to share with you. You have shown no interest so I don't bother you with it. For a day or two it pleases my eye until with time I'm used to the shine and its luster. It soon losses all sense of brightness. I cannot muster another glance myself. 

I have a shining bobble that I wish to share with you. I bring it to you with an eagerness I have not shown before. You shun me and say its not that shiny or bear it no consequence. I look again and it appears duller. Was it really that shiny to begin with? 

I have a shining bobble that I wish to share with you. You look it over and comment on spots that are dim without acknowledging the spots that are bright. When you return it to me my mind fixates on the dull spots, though I scarcely noticed them before until all the shine is gone and the whole thing is dull. 

I have a shining bobble that I wish to share with you. You grow ecstatic at having been given the chance to share in the viewing but as soon as you get it your eyes close and your mouth twists up. I wait patiently for your ecstasy to return but it never does. I take it back and its turned black in my hands. 

I have a shining bobble that I wish to share with you. You take it and make note of its dullness and bright spots. You even offer to help me polish it. I'm worried at first but I trust you. Together we make it brighter than it was when I found it. We both share in its shine and the thought that we made something good even better. 

Turn the Page, Wash Your Hands

I've been thinking a bit recently about my potential as an author. I often second guess myself when I get a rejection, though when I pick up a new book to read and see what's been published I think "I can do this; I have done this."

The constant pull and push of doubt and self reassurance gives me mixed feelings about my future as an author. And questions plague my mind.

Will I ever get something fully completed and published? Will anyone read it and enjoy it? Will I be able to sustain my life with this endeavor?

I want to be an author, it's my dream in life. I just hope I'm cut out for it in the long run.

Hiatus

I've been absent from these threads for some time now, only really getting a few inklings of thought out. My biggest detraction causing this hiatus is my lack of inspiration for writing. The well has dried up and the ink has hardened.

The other factor is that I'm working on a new novel idea an spending less time on my actual computer to keep distractions to a minimum.

So if you've been wondering where I've been this is your answer. I'm away at the moment, looking for new inspirations, and penning new tales in secret.

Coffee Table Clutter

I've realized I'm bit of a hypocrite. (a bit?)

I don't read the same things that I write. I don't seek out and read poetry. I don't read YA. I don't read fantasy. (All that much)

Yet I hope to be known in the future for my writing. I've written a lot of poetry recently. (If you can really all it poetry). I've been writing two YA novels. (One more so than the other) Yet I don't read or engage in those works on the outside. In fact I tend to steer clear of them. YA especially.

I am a hypocrite. But I can't help it.

Exiled

I never claimed to know how to write poems. Frankly, I don't believe I've ever written one. The things I tag as poetry are simply my thoughts strung together.

My joy and my pain.

Prospects - The Journey Ahead

This is the first time in the life of the blog where I have posted something every day for a month. It's crazy considering in the 7 or so year span of it I'd have huge gaps in time of no posts at all. I didn't post anything for an entire year before.

Why have I been posting more in my blog? 

I've been trying to write more, produce more and work more towards writing as a career. Creative writing isn't simply or easy to make profitable. It takes a lot of practice, like any skill, to hone my abilities.

I've been writing a lot more poetry, attempting to write more shorts, and using this platform to flesh out ideas I hope to use in the future.

It's also an easy way to present my work to readers, people I hope will give me feedback on my work.

This blog started out as a way to vent my problems, used more in the first few years as more of an internet journal than a writing platform but recently I've decided to forgo my old uses and concetnrate more on writing.

Will I post every day in February? 

Probably not. One of the things that this month has showed me is that in the pursuit of trying to produce on such a busy schedule I'm not able to produce the quality that certain levels of time off can give me. I don't plan on taking huge amounts of time off between posts but they will be come more infrequent.

Why am I telling you this?

Well if you're reading this you're one of the handful of people I've given this link to. I value you as a reader and I value the time you take to read these pieces. I figured I should take a second to inform you of the future and say a little thank you.

My posts have been more read in the past two months than the past 7 years I've been posting. Mostly due to the fact I'm writing more prose/poetry than ever before and that's easier to give out to people and the fact that I think I've honed my skills a considerable amount in the in interim. My writing is much better to read, and having palatable writing that people enjoy is a good motivator to keep writing and to keep progressing.

I hope that over the next year I can learn more, produce more quality writing, and get closer to my readers (You) with my craft.

I love to write and I love to share my stories. I'm just glad I have a few people who enjoy them as well.

Thanks again.

Whisper In My Ear

My old muses have died and been buried in the dark. Heaped under clothes piled high on the corner of the bed. Lost in the cold and silence of that cage.

Her name, my dark muse, is Ash. She caked my skin and filled my lungs. Weighing me down and keeping me low. I felt the dust irritate my skin and my eyes. I needed to cast her aside but she clung to me tightly.

She had a sister, who was cold and bit equally deep into my skin. They locked me into solitude, deep in my hole, but they gave me fuel. Fuel for the pen which I'd pour onto the page.

Those muses are gone from me, cast away and buried deep. Now replaced by a new muse. One of warmth and light, that lifts and embraces with love not contempt. I hope she stays with me.

Pilot Light

We're entering into a wasteland of ghosts and lost hope. There is only one way Marshall knows how to stay sane in this lonely world and its with the help of a radio.

A new project on the horizon follows Marshall Pope as he attempts to stay sane in a world of isolation with on the help of an old radio station and his love for music and books.

Keep an eye and ear out for stories/broadcasts from Marshall as he keeps the Pilot Light on.

The Cycle

I've published 200 posts and have been writing in this blog, more of an online journal at times, for over 7 years. I started this blog in my college apartment and was lamenting about girls and a failed relationship and now, most recently, I've been delving deeper and deeper into poetry and more contextual writing endeavors.

This blog has been cathartic for me, a cry for help in many ways, a way to dump my destructive and creative thoughts. I've cried while writing in it, laughed while writing in it, lost myself in some posts and felt embarrassed by others.

If anyone went back and started from the beginning, I don't recommend this, they'd hopefully see an evolution. A change of ideas, feelings, and a growth from then to now.

They'd see the destructive side of depression but also the creative that lies within the darkness. I've written some of the best words while in dark places but I hope now that I can write more while in the light.

Here's to another 7 years of ups and downs, more growth and hopefully a publication.

dreamless

I'm thinking in a more poetic mind. Short and stilted. Emotional and incoherent. Raw and unclear. 

I hope the long form isn't dead in me. For now it's quiet, sleeping dreamless. 

With Heart and Pen

"If a writer falls in love with you, you will never die." 

I'll write you into every word, every picture of the mind, and every star in the sky. You're the breath filling my lungs and the warmth in my heart. You are the inspiration behind every sweet declaration, every whisper of love.

You will never die as long as the words ring true and beyond. Once uttered they float into the ether and become one with the other muses scattered throughout time.

I weave you into the fabric of my imagined worlds. You are the gift in dreams.

Perhaps, you're the girl down the block or the queen in the castle, the mermaid in the ocean, or the spirit in the moon.

Whoever you may be in the story I hope you can see the level of attention I paid, the delicacy I used to tend to you.

 Worthy of attention and love; never ceasing to warm my soul.

Writing Update: December

As a writing exercise I decided to start a short story with a random word. I found a random word generator online and all the only rule is I need to start the story with that word.

My first 3 attempts at this are under the heading "First Words". I will likely continue this exercise incrementally like my poetic series Cryptic by simply adding roman numerals to each iteration.

The lack of work on my novel won't keep me from writing. I won't let it.

In other news, since it is now December I should comment on how NaNoWriMo went...I didn't write anything.

After giving a short explanation to a few fellow authors one day at the library, whom all told me that NaNoWriMo was a waste of time, I decided not to go through with working on "The Elevator" which was my tentative novel idea. I started and completed a project in NaNoWriMo in 2015, (I say completed but I simply hit the 50k requirement) and passed it up in 2016 since I was in England then. This year I had hoped and planned to do it again but after the responses from the others I decided not to pursue it again.

Since August, I haven't worked much on my novel Dreams of Machines. I'm hoping my new reader will give me feedback soon because my progress in hinging on their input. Over the past month I've been reading Dostoevsky again and have writing shorts here and there, mostly on here, to keep my motivated.

My motivation and creative are lacking now that the seasons are changing but hopefully the changes will full some sort of inspiration.

That's why I'm doing the writing exercises. I'm not putting to strict of constraints on myself yet just testing the waters. So no word limits or subject restrictions. I might do that in the future (doubtful).

Anyway, keep an eye out for "First Words" in a few days.

Reboot......99%

I've been trying to think of what would engage me as a reader so I can translate that to writing. Problematically I haven't been reading as much so my mind has lost that framework for now and I can feel it.

My novel ideas always stemmed from the fact that I didn't read many books myself because I couldn't find books I enjoyed to spend time reading. The ideas in the contemporary fiction that was put out for my age group never intrigued me or felt geared towards me.

Since then however I've felt myself falling into a world of literary fiction that has engrossed me and I've stepped away from fantasy.

My best writing, according to a few readers, has been my topic of real life issues with characters that are based off myself in some shape or form. That's not hard to understand as one usually writes best about oneself. It does make it hard to translate that effectively to purely made up stories however, when you need to add fantasy elements.

I've been stagnant in my actual writing over the past two days. Last night I attributed it to a creative overload and a much needed break from trying to squeeze my brain of ideas, but I'm not sure that is completely true.

I need to reevaluate my purposes for writing so that when I sit down I have a clear goal as to why I'm sitting down that day. Whether it be to translate a story, to challenge myself with a certain task, or to make something that is marketable and ultimately fruitful monetarily.

These are all challenges I face as of this moment. 

Draft #105

I realize I write certain things, attempt certain genres, not because I have a story that can only be told in that way but because I want to challenge myself to write that way. I want to have a go at making someone scared as they read, or feel emotional pain, or joy.

I assume that is the purpose of any writing, to have an emotional reaction on the part of the reader. I think in my way I need to break it down and see things more as genre instead of as all encompassing.

I can only be scary in a horror piece. I can only be romantic in a love story. I can only have action in a fantasy novel.

It's hard to parse that kind of thinking and make it integral to my writing as a whole. Writing a piece that has all the elements of the separate genres and in turn can't fall into one specifically.

I think in that way a piece of writing will be too stark in ideas to be coherent as a story. You need to take one or two elements that are prominent in a certain genre so that a combination of which is still digestible and not just a mishmash of ideas.

Finding this road in my own writing is hard. My best pieces deal heavily in depression, and the way people act or feel in that state. There aren't elements of horror, elation or even love. It's simply a dark glimpse.

To find a way to place one of my prominent characters inside an existential horror full of suspense, a yearning to find love in a dark place as a means of salvation and the actions needed to achieve that are extremely hard to put together.

I think for me though being able to write something that is suspenseful and not just emotional or tense and not just dark is the real dig.

I use these exercises in writing different genre tropes to tease out those elements, become familiar with them, enhance them and ultimately, if things go well, add them to future projects even if just in pieces.

I haven't been that successful yet, having only a few attempts under my sleeve. Writing suspense effectively and getting a real sense of horror or terror on the sheet seems elusive. I hope that in analyzing other work, exposing myself to experiences and trying my best to pen them out will lead to a level of success.

I can only try.