Tag Archives: Inspiration

BATTLING THE BEAST

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BATTLING THE BEAST

I gaze into the eyes of the beast searching to find its soul. I am caught in the childhood game of “the first one who blinks looses,” yet he shows no emotion, no rising of brow, no blinking or shedding of tears, just a long menacing stare.

The creature’s leering eye grows brighter with every passing moment, seemingly intent on seeing the space of my existence. My vision is full of his sight, yet I see nothing.

I study his unrelenting look, my mind searching the far corners and deep recesses, constantly swirling, struggling to find some strategy, or weapon or even one simple word that might defeat my enemy and win this mind-numbing battle.

The desire to close my eyes tugs at the lids. The moisture surrounding my orbs in their sockets has become dry and I struggle against the urge to rub them. The creature shows no signs of weakening and continues to counter every glance.

Without my consent, sudden darkness is all I see. I blink. I am immediately torn between two emotions. First, relief. Moist droplets flood my eyes like waters of the sea crashing onto the shore. The fetters that once restrained the rubbing of my eyelids have now been unfastened.

And second, In the darkness of my blink, dread fills my mind as I wait for the wrath of my opponent to be unleashed. Or perhaps he has already struck with such a swift penalty that I didn’t feel the pain. In the deafening silence I dare to open my eyes. To my surprise I find that it was not I who blinked first, but the computer screen upon which I placed these words.

Rory C. Keel

BATTLING THE BEAST

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BATTLING THE BEAST

I gaze into the eyes of the beast searching to find its soul. I am caught in the childhood game of “the first one who blinks looses,” yet he shows no emotion, no rising of brow, no blinking or shedding of tears, just a long menacing stare.

The creature’s leering eye grows brighter with every passing moment, seemingly intent on seeing the space of my existence. My vision is full of his sight, yet I see nothing.

I study his unrelenting look, my mind searching the far corners and deep recesses, constantly swirling, struggling to find some strategy, or weapon or even one simple word that might defeat my enemy and win this mind-numbing battle.

The desire to close my eyes tugs at the lids. The moisture surrounding my orbs in their sockets has become dry and I struggle against the urge to rub them. The creature shows no signs of weakening and continues to counter every glance.

Without my consent, sudden darkness is all I see. I blink. I am immediately torn between two emotions. First, relief. Moist droplets flood my eyes like waters of the sea crashing onto the shore. The fetters that once restrained the rubbing of my eyelids have now been unfastened.

And second, In the darkness of my blink, dread fills my mind as I wait for the wrath of my opponent to be unleashed. Or perhaps he has already struck with such a swift penalty that I didn’t feel the pain. In the deafening silence I dare to open my eyes. To my surprise I find that it was not I who blinked first, but the computer screen upon which I placed these words.

Rory C. Keel

Massive Chills

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

Massive Chills

The words feel like velvet. The author’s voice, quiet but strong, yanks my attention and holds it in a steel grip. The plot thickens in such a tight mesh it seems all options are gone. And then, with a few simple syllables, all is revealed.

My arms are covered with bumps while my eyes react by filling with tears. Of course! How could I not have seen such a thing! Perfect sense!

And then I turn the page. Nothing. White space is all that greets me. The End.

My breath is gone. I have to blink my eyes to get my vision back from the world contained between the front cover and the back cover. For the rest of my day, reality is caught simultaneously in two worlds: the world of real life and the world I just left.

And the single thought that runs through my brain is, Give me a pen and paper NOW!

If you ever need inspiration, go back and read your favorite book. Allow the author to be your professor. Absorb the words again and feel the tone of perfection. And even fantasize about what you might have done differently.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.

Nandy Ekle

 

The Journal Jar

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Outtakes #34

 The Journal Jar

I believe writers should write something every day. I do have an advantage as my job requires me to write. That does not mean it’s always easy to be creative in my commercial endeavors. Unfortunately, sitting at the computer forcing words on to the screen does not always provide useable material. That’s when I look for alternative inspiration.

A Secret Sister gave me the best gift for a writer—a Journal Jar. The jar is full of slips of paper with writing assignments. Subjects include music, art, family, friends, school days, holidays, and dreams. I have a special journal I keep with the jar. When I get stuck or don’t have hours to sit at my computer, I pull a slip out of the jar, paste it to the top of a blank page, and begin to work on the request.

There’s true liberation in this type of journaling. The writer is not confined to reciting historic events in a who, what, where, when, why format. Instead he is permitted, encouraged to relive an event. Recall the sights, scents, sounds of the occasion. What about creating your dream job? What would you do? How do you envision your day? What kind of education would you need? In a few minutes, a couple of pages are filled with creative details.

Not only does the Journal Jar provide a creative outlet for the writer, it is a record of the times. It may also give your children and grandchildren a chuckle when they read about your youthful exploits.

So where do you find Journal Jar strips? My Secret Sister found mine on-line. Fire up your favorite search engine and browse the web for journaling supplies. Don’t forget a book or notebook to record your assignments. Oh, yes, you’ll need a pen. I like gel pens in different colors. Open your journal and your mind. It’s fun.

Cait Collins

Inspiration

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Outtakes 23

Inspiration

I work in the complaints and correspondence department of a major annuities company. I’m often required to review old documents to verify names, dates of birth, contract ownership and so on. Clients have provided wonderful glimpses into their lives by the materials they send. I’ve received French Canadian birth certificates, Mexican marriage licenses, hand-written records, legal documents that appear to have been typed on old onionskin paper. But the most interesting was entitled Non-Relative Affidavit.

Even though it was scanned into our files, the age and fragility of the document was obvious. The shading indicated the page had yellowed over the years. Wrinkles and tears marred the submission and made reading the information difficult. The affidavit verified a birth in 1929, but the verification was not entered into the county records until some fourteen years after the birth. The age and unique format fueled possible reasons for the delay in filing the birth of this child.

My speculation went along these lines. This was a point in our history when home births were more common than hospital births. Perhaps a doctor did not attend the birth and record it. If the parents were not married, the event might not have been registered in an attempt to spare the mother and child embarrassment and ridicule. Was the child of minority origins? In the Old South, were minority births always registered? Some folks did not trust the government; therefore they might not want to have the birth registered. With this in mind, I realized I had the beginnings of a possible short story. I have not filled in many details;  so for now, this sketch will go into my story ideas notebook.

The point is that our story inspiration comes in many forms. Why not take a few minutes to go through boxes of old paperwork molding in the attic. Or maybe visit the archives in your local library or museum. A name or a place or a piece of paper might just trigger the next best seller.

Cait Collins

Rejection and Inspiration

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Rejection and Inspiration

By Natalie Bright

The rejection came in the form of an email at 9:57 P.M. Extremely nice note encouraging me to “keep trying”. The first thought in my mind is to head as fast as possible to the nearest Barnes & Noble. This may seem twisted in some way, but to surround myself with aisle after aisle of books restores my soul and reminds me why I love to write; I love to read even more.

Every section offers so many undiscovered secrets and delights, how can you pick just one?

I enjoy holding a new found treasure in my hand, flipping the clean pages, smelling the newness, and getting lost in the tale. Sometimes I can’t help but to glance at the ending (yes, I’m that person). To feel sad when I reach the end of a good story inspires me to keep digging and learning and discovering, ‘how’d they do that?’

Where do you seek refuge to renew your creative spirit and find inspiration?

Natalie Bright