Why You Should Write with the Door Closed



Something’s wrong with me. For the past few weeks, I can’t seem to write anything; substantial or not. Stories form in my mind as a clear, still image, which means that the best I can get out of my head right now are single, mostly trivial, scenes.

Not good. To create a complete, compelling story, I need at least a vision of an important key-scene.

There’s another thing. What I do right now is worry too much about the end results; what readers or other writers might think when they saw my work. Completely ridiculous, of course, because by doing that I prevent myself from having any work to show in the first place.

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Update: ‘About’ Page, New Design

Instead of writing, I’ve spent the weekend:

  1. Changing my domain;
  2. Rewriting my “About” page to include the philosophy behind my blog—and my domain;
  3. Implementing a new design, which involved CSS editing, uploading new images, new fonts, etc.

What do you think? Please let me know in the comments.


Yes, Neil. I know. Right away.

When a Writer Calls Out for Help..

Help Wanted

Okay. So I need help. Not professional help for my mental health—although if this continues I suspect I may need some, after all—but in my writing. (Note: By “this” I mean “life”)

I don’t really have a writer’s block. What I have— nay, what I am, is rusty.Like my iron ashtray, left outside on the roofless balcony during the harsh winter months, I need to rekindle the fire—even if it’s with searing cigarette butts. Because the latter seems to be what my ideas are made of lately—dark ashes clouding my mind, clogging the blood vessels where creativity is supposed to flow, unhindered.
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Writing Is Meditation


Today I had an epiphany. Not the religious kind, more like a Joycean one. You see, I like to meditate. When I do, I don’t see lights or saints. I merely observe my breath as it goes in and out. Sounds simple, right? Well, many people think writing is simple. Sometimes, maybe. Most of the time though, it’s hard. This morning I was writing after a meditation session, when I remembered something a fellow meditator once shared:

A student went to his meditation teacher and said, “My meditation is horrible! I feel so distracted, or my legs ache, or I’m constantly falling asleep. It’s just horrible!”

“It will pass,” the teacher said.

A week later, the student came back to his teacher. “My meditation is wonderful! I feel so aware, so peaceful, so alive! It’s just wonderful!”

“It will pass,” the teacher said.

This is an example of anicca, which basically means: Nothing lasts forever. I believe it applies to writing as much as to anything else. Continue reading