How to get over the writer blues

Do you need to work through the winter blahs?

Well, I do.

Cooped up inside and too sick to write, my brain turned to mush. Every time I sit down to write takes a monumental effort. The words won’t come. But today, lo and behold, other writers came to my rescue.

This morning over coffee I opened my email and read…

How to Start and Keep Writing After a Long Break

Ask a question and someone has an answer. I really enjoyed reading READ TO WRITE STORIES and the suggestions in this blog post. And I can’t wait to get the recommended book.

There are a few exercise suggestions in the post. Some you may be familiar with, others may help jog your characters.


Think about that for a minute. I’m sure y’all have been in a room where everyone tip-toed around an elephant.

After you read the article, tell me what you think.

How do you get back into the writing groove after a long break?


Want to read more tips on jump-starting your writing?

Click and read…

4 Left-Brain Exercises to Jumpstart Your Writing By: 

Stimulate Your Mind With These Writing Exercises!

12 Ways to Kick-Start Your Writing By CHARLOTTE RAINS DIXON




Is laughter really the best medicine?

If laughter is good for the soul maybe it’s good for the blahs. 

And just maybe fun is just what a writer needs.

Has your muse has gone into hiding with a case of Spring fever? Then a good dose of fun might draw her back into the game.

We’ve all used prompts to write quick flash fiction, short stories or articles as a break from the arduous task of writing a novel. Right? So how about just for fun!

I recently found a generator and produces the goofiest prompts.

Below are three samples I generated. Click on the link and see what outrageous ideas you can come up with at Writers First Line Generator. 

  1. The day my mother was kidnapped, we all got religion.
  2. The day the parrot bit my Dad, we buried the vicar.
  3. It was a grey morning in September when the house fell down.

I chose the first one to play with, hope it makes you smile.

The day my mother was kidnapped, we all got religion.

They say there are no atheists in foxholes. Not sure who “they” are or what a foxhole is, but I’m sure the saying has something to do with praying. And there sure was a lot praying going on the day mama was kidnapped.

Aunt Bertha walked the floor hollering for the Holy Spirit to smite the devil that took Mama from her babies. Mind you I’m fourteen and Randy just turned sixteen. There are no babies left in our house. But that didn’t stop Aunt Bertha. No, she grabbed Daddy, who hadn’t seen the inside of a church since his wedding day, fell to her knees and went to praying so loud Mama’s commemorative state plates rattled against the wall. Sheriff Taggart had a real hard time writing in his little notepad what with all the caterwauling going on.

Randy and me hid up in my room because, truth-be-told, we were glad to see the last of Mama’s sharp tongue the day she rode off with Reverend Malcolm.  Yeah, everyone found religion that day, especially Mama.


Okay, did you try it?

Please share yours in the comment section or leave a link! I’d love to read it.

Do you think laughter can lure your muse out of hiding?

Talk to me – I love reading your comments.

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Images courtesy of Pixabay.


What do you think about, writing prompts?

Love or hate them?

Me, I’m on the fence.

I use them to jump-start my writing. But rarely for my WIP.

Writing a short 100-500 words helps me get my thoughts churning and I think brings my characters out of hiding. Maybe they get jealous my thoughts are elsewhere.

So today I participated in one from The Daily Post. Hope you enjoy.

The DailyPost Aug 4, 2016  DAILY PROMPT  Craving

She stared as he walked from the car. Her hands gripped the open door, knuckles white with restraint. Breathe she reminded herself to just breathe. In a few seconds, he would be within her grasp. Her tongue traced and moistened her dry red lips.

At last, the tall drink of water she’d been waiting for reached her front door.

“Hi,” she said.

He acknowledged her whispered greeting with a nod as he followed her into room 117. She closed the door against the hot afternoon sun and the reality of the seedy motel. The where didn’t matter as long as they were together.

Still practicing my craft with a prompt or two.

How do you practice?