A beautiful essay for writers, on listening and following. By Tommy Zurhellen on Atticus Review →

“Lately I’ve been thinking about how stories — all stories, not just novels or films — work in circles, like loops on the same chain. These days I tend to believe creativity has less to do with starting something “new” and more to do with simply tapping into the stories that already surround us. Sometimes as writers we believe that we create stories, but more and more I’m thinking that it’s the stories that create us. Look at me: right now I’m sitting in front of La Samaritaine because I saw it in a movie once. Pretty soon, I’ll find my notepad and write a scene where my character is sitting right where I am now. Sometimes we need to remember that stories are bigger than the people who try to write them down. They’re the ones that work on us, even when we’re asleep.”

Posted a story on Wattpad - Such Sweet Sorrow - Chapter 3: Words, Words, Words
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I used to think there was some secret to writing in the process. There had to be something out there that made it just click—some method of getting words down that made telling stories easier and better and faster.

For years, I wrote by hand. I chewed the ends of Bic pens until they were mangled little flags that waved surrender while I wrote.

Then I switched to pencils, so that when I got antsy in the middle of a scene, I could stand up and go over to the pencil sharpener and burn off a little energy.

I had my grandmother’s old typewriter for a while, and I’d clack away at that thing like it was a snare drum.

And of course, I used Microsoft Word a lot.

I also tried mimicking things I heard great writers did. I dressed up in business attire, I stood up while I wrote, I set apples around my desk to smell them gently rotting all week. I drank many cups of coffee.

But nothing I tried made it any easier.

Because there isn’t any secret to the process. There is no way to make it easier. There is only getting more experience and developing instincts.

It comes down to putting in the hours and putting down the words. Thousands of them. I was just lucky that I never quit while I was trying so many different things.

I was still doing the work, slowly getting better. That’s the secret.

Original picture from: nevver:

Typewriters of Writers

(via thetinhouse)

Posted a story on Wattpad - Such Sweet Sorrow - Chapter 2: The Good Fight
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Posted a story on Wattpad - Such Sweet Sorrow - Chapter 1 (continued)
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Posted a story on Wattpad - Such Sweet Sorrow - Chapter 1: We Are But Players
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Still life with couch in weedy city lot. I love my ‘hood. (or, as we often shout in irony, “UPTOWN!”) (Taken with instagram)

Free Fiction for Mother’s Day!

FREE FICTION! I’m giving away a novella and some story sets and selling my novel for just 99 cents on Amazon to celebrate Mother’s Day this weekend!

It’s in honor of all mothers, but especially in honor of my wife, who is my first reader and sharpest critic, and who is celebrating her very first Mother’s Day as a mom!

Check it out:
My novel, THE BATTLE HYMN BLUES, is just 99 cents all day! http://www.amazon.com/The-Battle-Hymn-Blues-ebook/dp/B007OVUJ0O/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_1

My FREE novella, “Tracks” is at http://www.amazon.com/Tracks-bonus-story-Indiana-ebook/dp/B005MJ37Z4/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_3

FREE story sets: “Regulars” is at http://www.amazon.com/Regulars-bonus-story-Funeral-ebook/dp/B005QDU0JM/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_5

and “No Jazz in Indiana” is at http://www.amazon.com/Jazz-Indiana-bonus-story-ebook/dp/B005S34AT6/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_4

Hope you enjoy them! And Happy Mother’s Day!

“In the end, watching the Hawks get eliminated from the Playoffs gave me a curiously empty feeling, like when you reach into the bottom of the bag of Doritos and realize there are only jagged corn pebbles and flavor dust remaining: We are done, and so we shrug and, yet again, we wait for next year.”

Perhaps the greatest metaphor for lackluster success I’ve read in a long, long time. Maybe ever. Courtesy of my cousin, Lang Whitaker, in GQ. If you’ve ever rooted for any team, in any sport, ever, read this:

Requiem For A Team: The Q: GQ

I’ve had many, many jobs. So many that I started developing theories.

One is: Don’t work where you’d like to spend your free time. It ruins something you enjoy.

I developed this theory while working at a Barnes and Noble. Extremely boring and to this day I get queasy inside a B&N. Our manager had been hired from a Kentucky Fried Chicken and treated us like we worked there.

I always wanted to shout, “I’m an ENGLISH MAJOR graduating WITH HONORS! I don’t even have to LOOK UP WHO WROTE THE BOOK when I get asked where it is! HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS CASH REGISTER WORK?!?!?!?!?!”

My other boring jobs have included:

Movie theater ticket taker, where we stole popcorn and had contests over who could hide in the stockroom the longest without getting caught (2 hours was the record!)

Lifeguard, at a pool where nobody ever came because it was indoors in the summer. Well, there was one kid who just played by himself. I did a lot of writing that summer, so it was cool.

School Uniform Salesman, in New Orleans to the rich kids going to private schools. All summer, nobody ever came in the store, but I had to stand at the cash register anyway, then EVERYBODY in the entire city who needed a uniform came in the week before school started. My buddy worked the back, stamping the logos onto the little polo shirts and whatnot, and he messed up so, so many of them. I’m sure there were hundreds of kids getting detention because their logo was on the wrong side of their shirt…

Anyway, boring jobs aren’t bad. They teach you to work for work you love, and if you’re a writer or storyteller of any sort, they give you knockout material. Think the guys who write “The Office” would agree?

theclearlydope: