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Tuesday
May 21, 2013
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Writing in Snow
Rated: 18+ | Book | Writing | #1649240
Breaks the spell of Writer’s Block
Staring at a blank page is like staring into a snowfield. The snow, untouched by civilization and unmarked by living creatures, blinds you for a few minutes, it glistens reflecting subtle shades of pure white and rainbows at odd angles. If you stare at the snow too long, you get lost in the interplay of light and shadow.

As the day wears on, you become awestruck at the beauty of the snow’s perfection. You marvel at the way an oak tree cast its ebony shadow across the pure white snow. You watch the tree’s shadow change, grow and shrink, as Earth turns and the sun moves from morning to evening. If you stand out in the snow too long without moving, you risk snow bite or freezing.

If you are fortunate, a red fox will walk across your line of sight. The fox will leave his footprints written in the snowfield. As you watch the fox move, the spell holding you in one spot staring at the snow is broken. You are free to go inside out of the cold and out of danger.


I must say,
writing 500 words a day
isn’t difficult,
unless I’m attempting to write
on a single subject.


June 7, 2012 at 9:14pm
June 7, 2012 at 9:14pm
I’ve encountered an impasse
I sit staring at the computer screen. I’m working on a story. I’m attempting to write the story as a serial, but I have reached an impasse. I have written the first two parts in "Snow ~ Sorry But I couldn't Accept This Gift and "Snow ~ Thanks I Just Can't Resist It of Snow Melt. I am working on the third part, but I only have the first paragraph begun.


Candace Wade sat on the stone bench, staring at the center of the courtyard. How, she thought, could Gregory and Lora have evaded the magic of the ring.

I don’t like that beginning to the third part of the story. I just can’t seem to think when it comes to this story. I don’t know if the problem is the weird weather we’re having in Las Vegas or something else. Perhaps I should attempt that again.


”Candace,” she jumped at hearing her father’s voice. Master Jeweler Wade sat down on the stone bench next to her. “Have you seen the ring I made for Merchant Holland?”

“Yes,” she removed it from her purse, “I was going to have Father Joseph bless it.”

“That’s a lovely thought,” he patted her shoulder and then took the ring, “we don’t have time for that. Holland wants to give it to his wife today.”

Damn, Candace reluctantly handed the ring to her father, if Father Joseph doesn’t bless that ring, that capture spell will be activated.

That’s better, but still not what I want.

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