During the writing process there are days when you just can’t get anything done.
You need inspiration.
I did what all writers do in this situation – I logged onto to Twitter and cruised the #amwriting tweets. This is where I discovered Haiku Monday (or was it Tuesday?).
I wrote this haiku:
“Paragraph or verse.
I string together my words.
Meaningful and terse.”
Then I started to write haiku as my main character. It was a fun way to get inside her head. Or just another way to waste time. A little of both.
I’m going to start my own version of Haiku Monday with poems (not all Haiku’s) I wrote from Dani’s point of view. Here is my first one. Please feel free to share. 🙂
In case you’re wondering what the hell a Haiku is…..
Haiku (hi-koo) – a Japanese poem of seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five, traditionally evoking images of the natural world.
Peace. Love. Haiku.
(This is has nothing to do with writing. But it’s my blog and I can blog what I want to.)
When I was a kid I probably went to two or three “gay” parades (don’t get all pc on me, that’s what it was called) and that was only to see the naked guy. Pride Parade was for Gay Pride and us straight folk understood that. We knew our place. It was ok to stand on the fringes to watch men and women proudly wave their rainbow flag. We didn’t participate….Because the event wasn’t for US. I’m not talking about family members who party and march in solitude with their brothers, sisters, cousins, mothers and fathers. I’m talking about the frat boy/hipster/tech/sorority types who like to kiss and hump each other at parties for shock value…you know who you are, you’re the same jerks that ruined Bay 2 Breakers for the last two years.
You dress in rainbow and where flowers in your hair because it’s SOOO San Francisco. You kiss each other in selfies with a rainbow flag as your backdrop, then post them on Instagram because you LIVE for likes. You could care less about the parade or the brave women and men who have endured hate and shame at the hands of, well, people like you, in high school, middle school, any school.
By all means show up and dress in a rainbow tank top, hell, even put flowers in your hair. Just please, please remember – Pride Is NOT About You! Show some respect for those who view the event as a celebration of who they are and what they have overcome to be there. Honor the fact that some of those people have been disowned by their families, they are searching for camaraderie and acceptance, not some drunk chick looking for a photo op and a great story to take back to the East Bay.
Respect. Love. Peace.
If you want to read an actual article on this subject. This is a good one.
This one entitled Gay Pride is a Great Place to pick up chicks. It just proves my point.
I’ve decided I need a new planner. I’m a Virgo. It’s in my DNA, or something like that.
I’ve chosen this planner from Erin Condren.I have a feeling this planner will change my life – or I’m just really hungry and this is another attempt to delay all the things I need to get done another three weeks until this planner arrives.
Should you feel the need to put off important things in your life while waiting for a very cute, very expensive planner. Click here and check them out.
My brother posts this to my Facebook every time I mention my upcoming book.
In the 6th grade my teacher asked us to choose a book from her classroom library for a book report assignment. I ran my hand across rows and rows (ok, maybe just one row) of paperback spines, searching for that one special book. A book that would transport me to another world, another body, another time.
Let’s be real. I was looking for something thin, that I could read in one bus ride home. And, I found it. The book that did, in fact, change my life.
It was called The Outsiders.
Pony boy, Two-bit, Soda Pop, Dallas, and a chick named Cherry – rich kids and poor kids that rumble for social standing and injustice – SCORE!
I read it cover to cover, then read it again and again and again. I’m not even exaggerating. I even remember all the words to the Jack Frost, oops, I mean Robert Frost poem Pony Boy recites when he watches the sunrise with Johnny. It’s the only Robert Frost poem I know, cause I don’t even know who Robert Frost is. I know of Jack Frost, he likes to nibble noses.
S.E. Hinton was my literary hero. I read everything he wrote. (I know he is a she, but I only found this out like ten years ago) Rumble Fish, Tex, That was Then This is Now – all of which turned into movies. Which totally blew my mind. A book that becomes a movie! A-mazing.
So, I set out to write a screenplay. I figured, cut out the middle man (aka book) and go right to the glory. In a 5 subject mead notebook, I wrote on the first page “Tough Love” It was a love story about a really tough girl named, Joey that falls in love with an even tougher guy. I wrote it like a play, because I had no flippin idea what I was doing. Only now in retrospect, do I see the genius, the drive, the beauty in it all.
I was inspired.
I totally forgot about my first love, the book that popped my literary cherry and the author that wrote it. It’s time I gave props where props are due.
S.E. Hinton, I raise my cup of now cold coffee to you.
And thank you to the genius that cast Matt Dillon in all of your movies.
On a new note. S.E.Hinton’s book Hawks Harbor is also an excellent read. Ahead of her time (as usual) this is very much like her earlier work as far as great character and voice, with a great twist on the “bad guy”.
1. Pretend I’m brainstorming new ideas or plot lines by
staring out my office window while listening to inspiring music.
2. Re-read everything I wrote the day before, make notes on things to change,
and never change them.
3. Facebook, no explanation required.
4. Twitter, see Facebook
5. Update my website. (LMAO!)
6. Write a blog. (LMFAO!)
7. Read books in the genre I am writing, critique them,
and decide the publishing world is going to shit…or
8. Read books in the genre I am writing and cry because
I will never be as good, as clever, or as lucky as the bastard
pictured on the back cover.
9. Soundtrack the story I’m working on by spending
countless hours trolling through iTunes, listening to music I will never buy.