Stuck In My Head rewrite

This is a rewrite of a poem I did about writers block. If you want to see the first version check through my archives. I am very happy with this rewrite, it says more then it did before. Not only about my writers block, but blending the pain and joys of my life into my writing. Hope you all enjoy. Leave me a comment and tell me what you think!

Stuck In My Head

Stuck in my head, what a sad place to be.

Words run round yet they elude me.

Images flash by, some real some only mine.

Sweet and colorful, terrifying and dark.

A mix of emotion blending to paint a picture of my being.

The mind of a tormented soul, both light and dark.

I stomp, I scream, I let it all out, no one hears me alone in the dark.

Dust rolls up, desert all about, no oasis to satisfy my thirst.

I wish for peace but my mind scrambles about.

Thoughts of dark times, past but still here tainting the joys of my life.

Am I to stay for all time, to run round desperate to fly.

If only you’d come lift me to the sky I could catch those thoughts that fly by.

I sit and I wait, wish for only you, hands full of desperate tears as they pool.

Mind full of hurt and love, joy and pain, yet my hands sit idly by with nothing to say.

How long shall I roam this desolate plain my mind calls home, unable to return.

Where have you gone, I beg wont you come save me from this depressing fate.

Still I sit and wait for your return, knight in shining armor won’t you come, return me to a life outside this dark and hurt filled hole.

Hands held high I will wait for the touch that brings me to life once more.

Starting A Writers Group

When I first decided I was ready to write a book it was suggested to me that I join a locale writers group. At the time I only found one, and it wasn’t for me. I can’t remember what style they wrote in, but it had to be that one, but I don’t write in their style. So I settled for online groups, but it’s not personal. Yes I got some good advice, and took heed of what most told me. However I also got comments that told me I should not post a thing because I wasn’t experienced enough, my work unpolished. Reading comments like that made me think ‘But How am I supposed to learn from this if all you have to say is I need to learn more before posting. How do I improve without critiques?’. So I recently decided to start my own group in my area, and open to writers of all forms. So I posted an ad on Craigslist. As of now including me there are three members. Our first meeting is Sunday June 2nd at Barnes and Noble in Webster, NY 7PM. I am  proud of my self for taking this step, for putting my self out there and starting this group. I don’t have a name for it, I don’t have a set meeting schedule, and we are few in number, but it is started. I have taken another step forward, a step closer to my dreams. Even if my group stays small, if it fails, or we gain more members, no matter what I know I tried my hardest. I can be proud in the fact that I did my best.

I want to invite all writers in my area to join us.

Barnes & Noble in Webster NY

Sunday June 2nd at 7PM

Every writer needs constructive feedback. I chance to learn what areas they are strong and weak in. The opportunity to converse with other writers. Find their voice. become a better writer.

I have read many blogs, books, and posts in online writers groups. But nothing can beat that personal connection. I look forward to my first meeting with great excitement.

Prologue for Helix first half rewrite

I have a few sites I post portions of my work to. I use multiple sites because I only get a few replies from each, the more I get the better I understand what should be fixed according to readers. The biggest complaint I got (Next to spelling) is my imagery is week. Now I don’t have this problem all the way through my novel, but in portions of it. As I am still learning I find taking the advice from more experienced writers is important. So I looked for a site that would help me and I found this  http://www.merriam-webster.com/  I spent a lot of time fixing the first half of my prologue, which is funny considering I don’t even know if I am going to use it. I have gotten mixed messages as far as that goes, some told me I needed one, others say I don’t. Time will tell, for now I will make it the best I can. If you want to compare you can find my first draft here : http://artfulhelix.wordpress.com/2012/01/07/rewrite-of-prologue-for-helix/

                          prologue
 

“Mr. President, may I have a moment of your time?”  Mrs. Pickett asked knowing he won’t listen, but Grace insists on trying one last time.

  “Yes, of course. Give me five minutes gentlemen,” the president says to those near him. “I will meat you in my office.”

  The President is very busy these days. Planing a war, making sure as many people as possible  are safe deep under the earth’s surface, all while keeping the peace would take a lot out of any man. Mountains of paperwork cover his desk. His food is often left uneaten. He would have little time for his family if they were still home. Five minutes is a lot to ask of him.

  “Grace, this isn’t the best time, the Secretary of Defense is waiting in my office. You are supposed to be in the Washington colony by now.” The presadant told her.

  “I know, that’s why we are here, this office has been empty for months. I had to come and say good bye, I had to…..” She said. Tears starting to well in her eyes, her words stop short. He pulls a handkerchief from his breast pocket, dabbing at the tears gently.

  “I know, I’m going to miss you too. I can’t go with you, no matter how many times you ask. My place is here. Our country needs me. I love you Grace, but I can’t go with you.”

  Fighting back tears of his own, trying to be strong for her sake. He holds her close pressing his lips to hers tenderly. They melt into each other, unwilling to let go, wanting this moment to last for ever.

  “If you stay you could die. I don’t wont to live in a world without you. I know we may not win the war… I may never see you again… I’ll stay here with you. I’ll die, I don’t care as long as we are together!” She said

  She realizes she has raised her voice too much. Regaining her composure, she breathes in slowly, deeply.

  “Don’t worry about me, Grace, I’ll be fine. We will win the war, and then we can be together again. Just give us some time.”  He lies to her knowing the United States is out matched. Trying to lie to himself, convince himself its true. He will go down fighting, he is no coward.

  “If that’s true, why can’t I stay with you?”

  Her makeup is running, her tears flowing black. She doesn’t reach to wipe them. Shunning away from him she doesn’t want to appear weak, that would be worse than dying.

  “Grace look at me.” He grabs her chin, gently turning her head to face him. Etiquette is not important when the two of them are alone. “You know I love you, that is why you can’t stay. Put my mind at ease Grace and get into the Washington colony before the doors close. With you there safe I can concentrate on the task at hand, and when it is all over you can come back to me.”

  “I will go my love, just know I leave my heart with you.”

  Pressing into each other, arms locked, reluctant to let go. The moment can’t last. He gives her his monogrammed handkerchief to wipe the tears from her eyes. Staring at him, hands shaking she reaches to give it back.

  “Hold onto it Grace, you can give it back when I see you again.”

  She looks at it for a moment, unable to raise her eyes to meet his.

  With one finger he lifts her gaze, locking his lips to her’s, forceful and wanting. Knowing it’s time, they let go. She pulls down on her jacket, runs her fingers through her hair, and wipes the black smudges from her face. Woefully she walks to the door. She pauses for just a moment with her hand on the doorknob. She knows she has to go. If she hesitates any longer, she will stay. She must make it to the colony before it closes.

  He stands in the hallway watching her leave, his heart pulling at him to follow. He knows he will never see her again, or his wife and kids, but it is his duty to stay and fight, to die like a true soldier.

How rude!

 

I had joined a writers group some time ago called My Writers Circle. I had stopped going there because people there don’t seem to have any manners. It is one thing to give constructive criticism, another to be plain rude. Its like what the heck did I do for you to get such an attitude with me. Yesterday I decided to give the site one more try. I figured it couldn’t heart right. I posted my poem Stuck in my head there, witch is about writers block. This is two out of the three replies I got :

 

When I get ‘writers block’ which is hardly ever, but when I do
I just write. I write anything, even words about not being able to write, but I don’t poet them.
This comes across as no more than a mind-dump.
Very poor post.

 

Now this one is just rude. Plus writing about not being able to write is exactly what I did, but in a structure. The way he said he dose it is a mind dump if you ask me. I chose to create something out of my writer‘s block. How is this comment helpful, it only said he doesn’t like it, and that he is sapearier to me.

 He then said after a little back and forth.

I am absolutely positive that there “are people on other sites that loved it.”
You may find some here. I did not.
If you choose to stay in RMP you may want to indicate
what level of criticism you are comfortable with.

1. I found the opening lines to be weak and Telling.
2. The rest of S1 is very unoriginal and over-the-top. It lacks any inward visual that a reader might expect.
3. The first line of S2 is naively retro, romantically rhetorical and frankly dopey.
4. The rest of S2 is repetitive and platitudinous.
5. The lines in S3 are just ridiculously blah -

“How long shall I roam
unable to return home
o muse where have you gone
I beg you wont you come”

6. The last stanza is stunningly predictable and poorly expressed.

I usually don’t offer a detailed review for such poor writing, but you requested it.

Learn!

**********

 

A first draft?Pick another subject maybe? This didn’t work for me. I will see if I can dig out an old one that was my take on writer’s block.

 

Found it…………..

 

A writer’s life

 

Mont Blanc
in sweaty grip, he stares
at the empty sheet of vellum
in front of him on the cracked antique bureau
with a sigh he leans back in his Chippendale chair

 

stands up, wipes his watery eyes,
cleans his Ray Bans, slips into
his Barbour, green wellingtons,
takes the shotgun from the rack,
rubbing the polished stock he smiles
and closes the back door firmly

 

Now this one at least is a little more constructive, but still trying to tell me he is better. This peace is not clear its about writers block, it sounds more about suicide. It isn’t that its bad, simply not clear.

 

This is the poem that prompted these responses. I have posted it before but in case you haven’t read it before I figured I would add it.

I am stuck in my head

what a sad place to be

words run round and elude me

Images flash by

some real some only mine

I stomp I scream I let it all out

I wish for peace but scramble about

Where have you gone o muse of mine

am I to stay here for all time

am I to run round desperate to fly

if only you’d come lift me to the sky

if only I could catch those thought that fly by

I sit and wait hands full

I sit and wish for only you

you fill my mind

yet my hands sit idly by

How long shall I roam

unable to return home

o muse where have you gone

 I beg you wont you come

 Make my idle hands fly

 across my keyboard words wont come

still I sit and wait for you to return

 Not every line rhymes, but this is called free form poetry. That is the only site I have gotten any bad comments at all. On the other sites I posted it to I have gotten nothing but good, two spelling fixes and that they really liked it. I even posted it to http://xynobooks.com/ and got this comment from one of the admins :

 Maria, please, talk to Nick the editor about writing your thoughts on the main site–in addition to your novel aspirations.

 I did, and was then asked if I would blog along with there other writer, and before I could reply he upgraded me to an author account. I of course accepted. But here is a good question, if it was so bad Then why would they have asked me? A family friend in FL even read it to her church, and it reseaved grat aplose from the hole congrigation. So give your honest opinion. Am I over reacting, I may be just a little. But on a post about my book on the very same site I was told I had no taling and shouldn’t be writing, no ideas on how to improve just hertful words I egnored.

Here are some sites I do like for writing, you can get good constructive comments :

http://www.ladieswhocritique.com

http://xynobooks.com/

http://allpoetry.com

http://www.writing.com

http://wherewritersmeet.proboards.com/index.cgi

Stuck in my head

I am stuck in my head

what a sad place to be

words run round and elude me

Images flash by 

some real some only mine

I stomp I scream I let it all out

I wish for peace but scramble about

 

Where have you gone o muse of mine

 am I to stay here for all time

am I to run round desperate to fly

if only you’d come lift me to the sky

if only I could catch those thought that fly by

I sit and wait hands full 

I sit and wish for only you

you fill my mind

yet my hands sit idly by

 

How long shall I roam

unable to return home

o muse where have you gone

I beg you wont you come

 

Make my idle hands fly

 across my keyboard words wont come

 still I sit and wait for you to return

 

This poem is not what I intended to write when I started this post. I have to admit that for several days now I haven’t bin able to write a single word. I feel like my mind is empty and full all at the same time. I get this way sometimes. A wall goes up in my mind when my spirits are low, when I am uneasy even in my own home. considering this poem is ruff, and it just popped out without my control I think its good. So to all my readers, to the writers, to the poets tell me what you think? If you see any errors, or ways I could improve it let me know. this is the first poem I have written in about 3-4 years, something like that.

#1 The Mirrors at Barnard Hall (Chapters 1 & 2)

Reblogged from MovingForeword:

 

I am posting a draft of the first two chapters of my story The Mirrors at Barnard Hall .  The amount of feedback I receive  will determine my posting frequency.  For now, here's a preview of what's to come:

Callista Franklyn knows the year is 2012; however, the handsome stranger living in her antique mirror is determined to convince her that she is 110 years off the mark.

Read more… 4,181 more words

My artist of the day, A very talented writer. I read the hole post, but shortly after I had started I knew this would be my artist of the day. She has two other posts up already with more chapters. I can't wait to read them! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. Happy reading, and don't forget to let her know What you think!

Another little snippet

Their response was more than I expected. Every person in the room applauding, cheering for me. Even the stranger in the corner claps his hands, a glint of a smile on his face. My uncle remains silent, glaring at me with as much anger he can muster. His face reddens with the strain to keep control. I step down from the platform. Those who knew my parents well are the first to shake my hand and congratulate me. My mind is elsewhere, far from here. The only thing I want now is to deal with my uncle.

Voices fill the room with conversation and discussion. My uncle Cerny seated with the council, they are whispering back and forth as I approach. I address the council calmly, ignoring my uncle’s presence.

“May I have a moment of the councils time?”

Edger price, the oldest member of the council is the one to speak.   “Of cores child. Please approach.”

“Thank you. I wanted to inform you that I will be willing to do my demonstration at any time you wish. I am honored to be the first woman to lead Helix. To be the one to turn Helix around, bring us back to where we belong. I believe we have a lot to discuss. But that is for another day. I will be available tomorrow morning to make plans.”

The council converses for a short time, whispering back and forth. My uncle never takes his eyes of me.

 

I know it isn’t much more then yesterday. It’s hard to write with three kids running around and beating each other up. lol

Look what I found

http://www.mywriterscircle.com/    This link will take you  to a forum for writers.  Post parts of your story and get good feedback, critique others, and just hang out online with other authors. Every type of writer is welcome there, short story, poetry, or novel, children’s books to just for adults. There are rules, make shore you read them, they are there to protect everyone. Hope you like it as much as I do, I joined only a few days ago finally checking it out today, I’m sorry I waited. Have fun with your art and happy writings.