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How to cure writer’s block - part 2

10/26/2014

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Where it comes to writer’s block there are a number of theories flying around on how to deal with this condition. Some work, some don’t.

As someone once said, “The more you write, the more you want to write”. So even if you experience a case of writer’s block, the worst thing to do is to give up.

But what to write if you can’t write?

Having been in this situation, there’s one method I find particularly helpful.

Take a piece of paper and draw a circle. In that circle, write what your book is about in one word. For instance, lies, abuse, loss, murder, money, dancing, etc.

Branch out that one circle into four circles and write a word associated with the centre word. If you had written “dancing” associated words could be: shoes, music, stage, audience.

Next branch out those four circles into eight circles, and again use word association to the four words in the four circles. This could be: heel, tap, song, symphony, curtain, wings, applause, appreciation.

You can branch out into more circles if you like. The aim of this exercise is to give your brain a workout. You’ll find that, when you’re no longer thinking of how to move forward with your story, word association opens up possibilities.

Another trick to get your inspiration flowing is to turn your spellchecker off. Some people can ignore those red squiggly lines, others can’t concentrate until they fixed a particular misspelled word. By turning the spellchecker off, you can type without interrupting your train of thought.

If all else fails, turn your back on your computer and go back to basics … write with pen and paper. Many writers can’t think while looking at a computer screen and moving their fingers at the same time. By writing with a pen, that particular problem is eliminated.

Chances are, once you write, truly write, your inspiration will run like a train.

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Lily - Chapter 1 - Page 7

10/26/2014

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in this school for another two years without them. Suppose I was the only one of us three who would stay behind in the two-year special program while they moved on to high school. 

When one of the teachers stepped onto the playground and rang the copper bell, we all picked up our cases and walked to class.

“Morning, students,” Miss Moon said when we were all seated. “I have a surprise for you. Today a consultant will be visiting us to talk about your future. Have any of you given any thought as to what you want to do now that you’re in your last year of elementary school?”

An excited murmur rippled through the class and numerous hands were raised.

“Yes, Piper?” Miss Moon pointed to a girl in the front row.

“I want to be a lawyer,” Piper said.

I had no doubt that she was serious. Piper was the smartest girl in class and had been since grade one. When she was called to the front of the class to write the answers to questions on the blackboard, she always got them all right. Whether it was math or grammar, history or geography, Piper always got everything right. She could sing like an angel, she could draw really, really well, and she was the most athletic girl in gym class.

“I want to be a doctor.” Vera followed Piper’s answer.

Vera was Piper’s competition, also smart, but she always seemed to come in second best to Piper.

Our teacher nodded in approval, then continued to point at girls who had their hands raised and listen intently to their plans. Some wanted to be teachers, others nurses, one wanted to be a hairstylist, and another a veterinarian.

I had wanted to be a veterinarian, too, until Dad said that veterinarians don’t only make animals better, that they sometimes had to put animals down. I no longer wanted to be a veterinarian after learning about that. I would never be able to kill an animal, whether it was for its own good or not.

I kept my hand down, shrinking in my seat as Miss Moon moved to the back of the class.

“And you, Chloe?”

Chloe hadn’t raised her hand and was obviously surprised by the question. “I don’t know, ma’am.”

“Have you thought about modeling? You’re still very young, but in a few years’ time, who knows? You’re quite beautiful.” 



Want to read more? "Lily" is available on Amazon and other online stores. 
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Lily - Chapter 1 - Page 6

10/24/2014

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I never would have come up with the right answer. I hoped they wouldn’t send me to high school. Lessons would be so much harder there and I wouldn’t have Luc to help me. 

If it were up to me, I’d never go back to school. 

Back in my room, I crumbled to the floor against my bed and started crying in earnest. Burying my face in the blankets, I sobbed. Stupid, I kept thinking. I am just a stupid girl.

When I arrived at school the next day, my friends, Anne and Chloe, were frantically waving at me from the playground. We were like The Three Musketeers, inseparable since grade one. Anne could have passed for my sister. We were the same height, the same build, and had the same blonde hair, except mine was very short and Anne’s was shoulder length. Chloe was very different. She was also tall, but she already showed curves in all the right places, and had black curly hair. 

“What’s up?” I said, joining them on a bench under the oak tree where we usually met in the morning.

“Did you do the math homework?” Anne asked.

“The one about the ants on a stick?” Chloe asked.

I nodded.

Anne hesitated. “Do you think you got it right?”

“I don’t think I did; I know I did.” 

“What makes you so sure?”

“Luc helped me.”

That was all the girls needed to know. If Luc had helped me with my math homework, then I was bound to have the correct answer. As one, they delved in their school cases and yanked out their math books.

“You don’t mind sharing, do you?” Both of them looked at me with big anxious eyes and eager faces.

“Of course not,” I quickly replied. “The answer is one minute.” Their books disappeared in half that time as they sighed with relief.

“Did you guys do the essay?” I asked.

“Sort of,” Anne said. “My mom helped me.”

“So did mine,” Chloe smiled.

“So did mine,” I giggled.

I wanted to ask my friends if they were planning on going to high school after the summer holidays, but didn’t dare to do it. Suppose they said yes; then I would be the one left behind. I couldn’t bear the thought of having to stay 



Can't wait for more? "Lily" is available on Amazon both as an ebook and in paperback form. Click here.
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How to cure writer’s block

10/24/2014

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The other day, someone complained that he had a severe case of writer’s block, did anyone have any suggestions for a cure? A number of people came up with a variety of ways to solve this particular problem.

Take a shower

If that helps, great, if not then at least the writer is fresh and clean.

Go running

Also a good idea, and even if the running doesn't help with inspiration, at least the writer will get fit.

Take a nap

Well, why not. Plenty of rest is important and who knows, while napping the writer might have a dream that “shows him the way”.

Eat bacon

While regular nutrition is just as important as plenty of rest, with the suggestion of bacon I hope the man’s writer’s block doesn’t last too long or he might develop cholesterol problems and high blood pressure.

Write about the color orange

That is the weirdest suggestion I’ve ever come across. I wonder if it helps.

While all these suggestions might help, the one that stood out for me came from Kimi P. She said … “ I find that when I have writer's block, it's because I've written myself into a boring dead end. It might be worth taking another look at what you wrote last.”

I found this to be very true while writing “Lily”. In general, “Lily” was the easiest book I’ve written. Compared to “Waiting for Silverbird”, “Voice of an Angel”, “Kitten Diaries” and “Debbie”, the novel “Lily” almost effortlessly flowed onto the page.

Still, there were times that I was stuck. That I wanted to push my writing speed into fourth gear, but instead ended up in park. So I would reverse, read what I had written and then start over with something different.

My biggest problem is typing when writing creatively. There’s something about looking at a computer screen and moving my fingers that interferes with my inspiration. On the other hand, give me pen and paper and the words will just come. My brain will go into such overdrive that my hand can hardly keep up.

Writing in solitude doesn’t work for me either. While some writers need peace and quiet, I’m like Leo Tolstoy, I need people around me.

I remember this one coffee shop in Toronto. It was barely more than a hole in a wall, crammed with tables, chairs and benches, and packed with students and office staff on their lunchtime.

On that cold, rainy day it was nice and cozy, with condensation dripping off the windows. With a coffee on my left, a pastry on my right, and listening to the buzz of conversation it was sheer heaven.

When I took out my pen and notebook, chapter 33 of “Lily” practically wrote itself.

There are other ways of beating writer’s block, but I’ll get to those tomorrow.



In the meantime, for those who are interested in "Lily", click here to be directed to Amazon and the "Look Inside" feature to sample the book. Currently only available in electronic format, but the paperback is coming shortly.
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Lily - Chapter 1 - Page 5

10/23/2014

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cross the stupid stick and I didn’t dare guess. If I got it wrong, there would be more yelling.

“How long?” my brother asked.

“Concentrate, Lily,” Mom hollered again.

“Mom, leave her alone,” Luc snapped, as he held up his hand. “Let her think for a minute.”

I read the story again, concentrating on each word, willing myself to find the answer. I briefly glanced in Mom’s direction. As our eyes met, I saw her shaking her head at me. 

Luc gave me a little nudge and I looked back down at the page, reading the story yet again. I would have to give an answer. Luc was waiting. If I got it wrong, Mom might yell at me again. I had to get it right. I just had to.

“Lily?”

“A minute?” I said softly, ready to burst into tears.

“That’s right!” Luc said triumphantly. “The longest that you would need to wait to ensure that all ants are off is one minute. Well done, Lily.”

“Huh,” Mom snorted. “Lucky guess.”

While Mom and Dad watched a movie on television, Luc and I played battleship. He won the first two games; I won the third. I wondered if he let me win just to make me feel good.  

When Mom glanced at the clock and announced it was bedtime, Luc and I packed up, wished Mom and Dad good night, and climbed the stairs to our bedrooms. 

At the top of the stairs I remembered that I had left my reading book on the table and went back down. I was about to open to door to the living room when I thought I heard Mom and Dad talking about me. 

“And you want that girl to go to high school? She can’t even do math without Luc’s help.”

“She came up with the answer, didn’t she?”

“She guessed it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course she guessed it, Albert. Do you really think she knew the answer? I don’t understand how one child can be so smart and the other so stupid.” 

“Don’t call Lily stupid, Marion.”

“She is stupid.”

I crept back up the stairs, my hand shaking on the banister and tears rolling down my cheeks. It hurt hearing Mom say that I was stupid, but she was right. I had guessed the answer to the math problem. If it hadn’t been for Luc, I 



Want to read more? Lily is available on Amazon and other online bookstores.

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Lily - Chapter 1 - Page 4

10/22/2014

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and helpful one moment, explosive and violent this next. My hair looked like rats had been at it, so Mom took me to our neighbor, Vivian, to fix up the mess. Vivian made an even bigger mess and I was left with hair no longer than an inch. When I looked in the mirror, I hated my reflection, but there was nothing to be done about it now. 

Dad was furious when he came home that night, saw me, and heard from Mom what she had done. After I was sent to my room, I heard him yell at Mom. Mom yelled too, and it went on and on. Then suddenly they grew quiet. When I crept back downstairs, I found Mom in the living room and Dad in the kitchen. I could feel something was wrong and I knew my hair was the cause of it. For the rest of the week, whenever Dad came home, he didn’t kiss Mom hello and didn’t talk to her. 

Then a voice snapped me back to my math. 

“Luc, your sister needs help with her homework,” Mom said, waving in my direction. 

“Let me guess, math?” he asked.

I nodded.

To my relief, Luc smiled and looked at the book in front of me. 

“Don’t just give her the answer,” Mom scolded, looking up from her knitting. “Reason it out with her and let her come up with the answer on her own.” 

Luc sat down next to me. “Okay, any ideas?”

“No.”

“Two ants bouncing off each other is equivalent to two ants that pass through each other, in the sense that the positions of the ants in each case are identical,” Luc began. “Does that make it any clearer?” I took a deep breath but didn’t say anything.

Luc demonstrated ants walking on the table with his fingers. 

I concentrated but didn’t get it. I just didn’t. Biting my lip, I looked up at him. Why did he understand this question after reading it only twice, while I had read it over and over again and had no clue? I suddenly felt very warm and nauseous. “Hmm  . . . Um, I don’t know,” I whispered, close to tears.

“Envision the ants walking, Lily,” Luc encouraged. “See them walking on that stick. How long is it going to take them to get to the other side?”

“Lily, are you concentrating?” Mom called from the sitting room. “Don’t let your brother figure this out for you. Come up with the answer yourself.” Swallowing away a lump in my throat, I felt tears burning behind my eyes. I hated being yelled at. I didn’t know how long it would take the stupid ants to

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Lily - Chapter 1 - Page 3

10/19/2014

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Math was my worst subject. I had no trouble with regular math—adding, subtracting, dividing and multiplying—but when it came to story-related math problems, I was lost. Without much hope, I looked at the first question:  

Ants on a stick

One hundred ants are dropped onto a meter stick. Each ant is traveling either to the left or to the right with a constant speed of one meter per minute. When two ants meet, they bounce off each other and reverse direction. When an ant reaches the end of the stick, it falls off.

At some point, all the ants will have fallen off. The time at which this happens will depend on the initial configuration of the ants.

Question: Given all possible initial configurations, what is the longest amount of time that you would need to wait for the stick to have no more ants on it?

I read the question again and again and again. My hands balled into fists as I racked my brain trying to come up with the right answer. I had no idea how long it would take for all the ants to be off the meter stick. 

“Lily, I can hear you sighing,” Mom called. “Don’t you understand the question?”

“I understand the question, Mom, but I don’t know the answer.”  

“Then you don’t understand the question,” Mom said, pushing herself out of her chair in the sitting room. “I don’t think I’ll be of much use, but let me have a look.”

Having put on her glasses, she peered over my shoulder and read the word problem about the ants. 

“Good Lord,” she commented, “I can’t help you with this Lily, but Luc will know. Ask him when he comes downstairs.”

Moments later, Luc sauntered into the living room. 

Even though Luc was seven years older than I, we looked very much alike. He was tall and lanky with blue eyes, a straight nose, and a generous mouth. His blond hair was cut very short.

My hair used to be long, almost to the middle of my back, but when my ponytail hung in my plate of soup one day when I turned to look at a bird on the windowsill, Mom cut it off. She got so angry that she went to the kitchen, took a pair of scissors out of the drawer, and cut the whole ponytail off. Luc gasped in shock and waited for my reaction, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I may have been young, but I had my pride, and I would be damned if I showed her how she hurt me. Mom was like that, sweet

 Anxious for more? "Lily" is available on Amazon and other online bookstores.

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Lily - Chapter 1 - Page 2

10/14/2014

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Yesterday I published page 1 of chapter 1. Today we continue with page 2 of chapter 1. 

Poor Luc; he would finish high school in June and might have to go to the university in September for who knows how many years. With a sigh, I turned my attention back to my homework. School would break for summer next week, but Miss Moon still gave us homework:  math and an essay. We had to write a two-page essay about what we were going to do during school break. 

I stuck the end of my pen between my front teeth and stared at the blank page in front of me. We would go camping, just like last year and the year before: sightseeing, visiting little markets, swimming, and generally having fun. But how to put this into words?

“How’s it going with that essay, Lily?” Mom asked on her way to the kitchen.

I shrugged helplessly. “Do you want some help?” I eagerly nodded.

“Okay, let me go and make some coffee and then I’ll come and help you.”

With a sigh of relief, I put my pen down. If Mom was going to help with the essay, it would turn out alright. Mom wrote all my essays and she always received good marks for me.

“What do you need to write about?” Mom asked.

“Our plans for the summer holidays.”

“Well, that’s easy.” Slightly irritated, Mom pulled the paper towards her. “We’re going camping. Why can’t you tell your teacher about that?”

“I can tell her,” I said, “but I don’t know how to write it.”

“Tell me.”

“You know what we do on holiday.”

“Yes, but I still want you to tell me. You can’t expect me to do everything.”

As I related the planned holiday from past experiences, Mom wrote everything down. Every now and then she would hold up her hand when I went too fast and she would nod to let me know when to continue. 

When I was finished saying what I had to say, Mom rewrote what she had on the paper. Twenty minutes later, the essay was finished. Mom read it aloud and I glowed with enthusiasm. Mom had written what I had told her, but Mom’s version was so much better than mine.

“Now then, do you have anything else to do?”

“Math.”

Mom frowned and got up. “Can’t help you with that, but Luc will. Better get started.”

 
Want more? “Lily” is available at Amazon and other online book stores.

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Lily - Chapter 1 - Page 1

10/13/2014

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As promised here is the first page of the first chapter of “Lily”.

Chapter 1  

1969 “She’s a girl; she doesn’t need an education,” Mom sneered, swatting a hand through the air. “She’ll get married and have kids.”

Dad didn’t agree. In his opinion. I should go to high school. He was about to come up with yet another argument, when Mom cut him off.

“She’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, Albert. She won’t be able to cope. She hates school. Why put her through another six years?”

“Well, then maybe an art academy,” Dad reasoned. “She’s pretty good at drawing. Let her develop by doing something creative.”

“I don’t know, Albert.” Mom shook her head in doubt. “If we were talking about a boy, I’d say fine, let him go to an academy instead of a high school, but we’re talking about a girl—a girl who will meet a boy, fall in love, get married, and start a family. She’ll be a housewife like me. So why does she need a fancy education? I say let her stay in the school she’s been in for the past six years; let her enter the special program where she’ll learn to cook and sew. That will be all the education she’ll ever need.” “Luc went to high school,” Dad remarked.

“Luc is a boy; he’s smart and he’s got a great future ahead of him. Did you know he wants to become a math professor?”

I was hunched over the dining room table with my back to the fireplace, glancing from my mom to my dad as they argued about me. I wished they would stop and give me a say in the matter. I would tell them that I hated school, hated it with a passion. The teacher liked nothing better than to put me on the spot with questions I couldn’t answer and my classmates took pleasure in my humiliation. Every time the teacher called me to the front of the class, I could hear the whispers behind my back.  



Can't wait for more? "Lily" is available on Amazon and other online bookstores.

 

 

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It's turkey time

10/13/2014

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I’m not a turkey lover. That is, I like them just fine while they’re alive. They have beautiful feathers, intelligent eyes, their strut has character, and when they start gobbling it’s hard to keep a straight face. But dead I don’t like them at all.

Still, after fifteen years of a turkey free Thanksgiving, I’d thought I’d break my tradition and give the bird a try. My resolution didn’t last long. In our local supermarket I looked at a number of frozen turkeys and I was shocked to see the prices … $35, $42, $50. Good grief, these birds certainly didn’t come cheap. Not to mention the size of them. Dieter and I would have to eat turkey for a week to finish the bird.

So, to pay honour to the millions of turkeys who lost their lives for this holiday, and gushed liters of blood, I celebrated Thanksgiving my way … by going bowling.

In case you’re wondering what bowling has to do with Thanksgiving … three strikes in a row is called a “turkey” and between Dieter and myself, we made so many triple strikes it’s was turkey galore.

When you compare preparing a real turkey with bowling, there are certain similarities.

You go into the kitchen – I go into the bowling alley.

You put on an apron – I put on bowling shoes.

You get the turkey out of the fridge – I get my ball out of its bag.

You coat the turkey with oil – I ask for lanes that have been coated with oil.

Both in the kitchen and the bowling alley, it takes a certain amount of experience, expertise and a cool head to produce a perfect turkey. When things go a little wrong, you have to keep a cool head.

The big difference between a real turkey and a bowling turkey comes later. While the satisfaction of having produced such a bird is the same, having consumed turkey meat tends to make to eater sleepy, while a bowler feels exhilarated.

And while a real turkey dinner leaves a ton of dishes for the cook, a bowler takes off his shoes, puts the ball in a bag and the cleanup is done.

No mess, no fuss, no bloodshed.  All things considered, I prefer my way of celebrating Thanksgiving.

 

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