When You Have Nothing To Say.. This Is What Happens.

Writing cannot be done without the use of ones’ thought, mind, or imagination. There’s a lot of heart and soul in it, but if your mind is cluttered with way too many thoughts when you’re stressed… Heaven knows it’s going to be hard to pull something decent out of it. — As I sit here tonight, I have so much on my mind that I can’t think straight. I don’t know what to write tonight. Not in the book I’m working on and not even here. I’m at a standstill.

I’m sure I’ll get the spark back… I always do. Everything twirling around in my mind makes it so hard to concentrate on anything at all. — I’m an anxious person. I try really hard not to be, but let’s face it… somehow, it seems to find me. It pulls me into a place that tries to block out all the light in my life. It consumes me. — People make me nervous. Life makes me nervous. — I know in my heart that I’m bigger than this. I know that I have a God bigger than this. I also know that I’m only human… therefore, sometimes I fail. Sometimes I fail to pull myself up and away from the anxiety and the clutter surrounding me. — This past week has just been one of those weeks.

There are a lot of people out there that judge others harshly. They look at another person’s life and they think they know enough. This right here, all of this anxiety, it is how I learned not to be that way. People can look at me and see a lot of things… only, they don’t always see the struggles and the battles. They don’t know what’s going on inside. — That’s why kindness is so important. One never knows when they might be the only light someone sees that day.

It’s a very cliché phrase… WWJD? What Would Jesus Do? — He’d be the light. He’d be the kindness. He’d be the love. I was a child when I learned that phrase. I didn’t fully understand its meaning… but I do now. For that, I am glad. I never want to fail to be the kindness that someone else needs.. partly because I understand what it’s like to need the kindness and compassion myself.

I really don’t know what this blog post is all about. I came here and had nothing to say. What I ended up saying.. well, this is definitely one of the most personal posts I’ve written yet, lol. — I guess you can take it however you’d like to. I’m an overly emotional writer tonight, I think everyone should strive to be kind, or simply that I had nothing to write and came up with all this insightful randomness. — You can choose whatever you want. 🙂 —


A Pep Talk

4 A.M. & I can’t sleep. — I feel like writing.. but I also feel too overwhelmed to do so.

I read a lot. To be honest, some days I read more than I write. I pick up a book and refuse to put it down until I’m finished with it. Laundry goes unfolded, dishes go unwashed, and the house certainly doesn’t dust itself (Not to mention I don’t get much writing accomplished) … but I certainly enjoy every moment that I’m engrossed in a good book. — Sometimes I read one & think it’s a masterpiece. Sometimes I read one & think it’s pretty good or at least okay. Then there are those times that I read one & think, good heavens.. who published this & why? — Then I turn around & feel bad for thinking that, especially because I know someone worked hard on it, whether it’s my cup of tea or not… it means the world to someone else. —

The thing is, the rest of the world isn’t necessarily like me. They may not stop to think, wait a minute, someone put a lot of heart & effort into this and that means something. — & those are the people who scare me. — I completely understand that I will not like some of the things I read. Everyone is different.

Sometimes in the middle of life I just like to stop, pick up a simple, clean, happy-ending romance novel & take a break for a while. However, I know before I pick one out what I don’t want in it. I don’t want characters lusting after each other on page 5 & erotica on page 10. So I purposely don’t pick those, because I know I will be disappointed in it. — That’s not to say the author can’t write or that they don’t tell a good story… just that it wasn’t written for me. I keep that in mind any time I read a book. I remind myself that if I didn’t like it, then it wasn’t the book for me. That maybe the author’s style wasn’t the right one for me. I try not to be overly harsh on an author’s work when I know it most likely wasn’t my thing to begin with.

There is always a target audience. There is always someone who is going to love what someone else doesn’t. — I think on days like today, I forget that. I think about the people who aren’t like me & I’m afraid. I’m afraid that I will put my heart & soul into something so very important to me and that the world will think… good heavens, who published this & why?

My last post was about critics. It started from thinking of those belittling the talent & ability of an individual in the beginning of their career. — Today what I’m afraid of are the people waiting to tear you apart once you make it. The ones who read your work & have little compassion for what it took to write it.

Before I started taking  my writing seriously a couple of years ago, I had no problem complaining about someone else’s. However now that I know what it’s like… I always catch myself refusing to judge too harshly. — It’s amazing what taking a walk in another’s shoes will help you to see! — I guess I just need to remember that there is a target audience out there for me & my writing. I’m going to hit the nail on the head & I’m going to make it in this world. If for no other reason than sheer willpower alone, I’ll make it. (Well, that & God of course.. ) — & Once I do make it, the right people will enjoy it.

— It’s nearly 5 A.M. now. I don’t feel quite as overwhelmed as I did before. I think maybe I just needed to sit down & have this little heart to heart with myself. — Good thing it worked. 🙂