Imput Overload


Have you ever felt your brain was working but in a way you couldn’t follow. So many thoughts going every which way. Unable to organize them. Unable to put them to paper. Your head hurts with all that input yet no output. It hurts to have the radio, TV or even the chirping of the birds outside your window. What to you do to work through it? I decided to write about the frustration, the ache, the tenaciousness of it. “IT” of course being writer’s block.

I wrote the seven free verse poems to start the 30 Poems in 30 days in April challenge from Camp NaNoWriMo’s. They don’t make since. Just a jumble of words that sounded find when I wrote them. I have read books from the era of the early 1600’s for my novel “City Upon A Hill.”  I decided to set it aside for now to work on the April challenge. My mind keeps drawing me back to the novel. Ahh! I just had that Ah Ha moment, as soon as I typed “my mind keeps going back to the novel” my head started to clear, the confusion easing away, the hurt subsiding. The novel is like your child who wants your undivided attention, yelling “Mom will you listen to me now?” “Look what I have to show you.” I finally get the hint. Discard your challenge, give the love, attention and tenderness your child needs to that child or in this case my novel. My head is clear, the hurt faded to a dim memory, I am ready to spend time with my “child” creating that bond that last forever, tweeting Isaac’s character, filling in the blanks of the town, the family and even the confusion that is his about coming to the wilderness that is 1630 New England. I will shed my confusion of reaching out of my comfort zone to write about Isaac’s life in a novel. I do have the strength to carry on, to achieve this frightening thing called writing. If Isaac can boldly traverse the unknown waters of the Atlantic Ocean, leave his mother England for the wild wilderness that is New England, I surely can leave my fears behind or at least over come them and forge on to tell his story.

Freedom! I can write again! Confusion gone. Wires arranged as they need to be to send the brain the messages of his story. I discarded the Camp challenge. I bid you Ado as I focus on “my child.”


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