Writers Write…
I have found that if you are going to call yourself a writer, you need to do the work. No matter what. No matter the circumstances, no matter your schedule, no matter how you’re feeling, you have to write. All the time. Whenever you get a chance.
“Writer’s write. Everyone else makes excuses.” – Jack M. Bickham
So I write, and sometimes it’s not easy. I thought I would share my process with you, more or less. Some days it’s more, some days it’s less.
The Witching Hour…
I haven’t slept through the night in years. It’s not every single night, I have cycles of sleeping through. But then there are a few consecutive times I wake up in the middle of the night. A third of those wake ups are for the kid, the other are dog related and the last are just me, waking up.
When I wake up of my own volition, I don’t even need to check and see what time it is. I know it’s somewhere between 3 and 4am. I use the time wisely, taking a slow shuffle walk through the house. Visit the restroom. Double check the locks on doors and glance out the window, the way they say you should for Neighborhood Watch purposes. Then it’s back to bed.
I sometimes purposely don’t look in the mirror and I think to myself (as I am not looking into the mirror) “Don’t think the phrase Bloody Mary three times.” That’s just my overactive imagination, the darkness, and an adolescents devoted to cheesy horror films and Stephen King.
I have never given much thought to the time I usually wake up. But then in conversation, The Witching Hour was brought to my attention.
By my sister.
Who thinks I’m a witch. Continue reading
Falling Quotes…
The temperatures have dropped in my little corner of the world. The leaves laugh at me as I try to gather them for compost. Those still left in the trees, that is. They wait for a clean canvas of green and swirl, twirl their way from the branch to the ground. Another build-up of work to be done.
The colors draw my eye, invite me to stare and contemplate the day away. The sun, it seems, is more playful with the shadows this time of year. Or perhaps I’m heightened in my awareness of the lively shades that dare me to daydream the day away.
The light is more auburn, gold, red. Depending on the time of day. It arcs across the sky, drifting like the leaves, to dip the horizon. To give us more darkness and cool weather, to temp us to more hours of snuggling with books, blankets, conversation, each other.
The rain will come and change the sound of crunching leaves to an earthy squelching; still inviting, delightful, for children to romp among. Full gray clouds will enhance the light and seasonal sunset of leaves on the ground. Brighten the reds, set a flame to the golds.
Oh my friends, it’s this spirit of autumn and earth and light that has me thinking literary thoughts. Quotable thoughts, if you will. Continue reading
Click on over to Always A Cappuccino : The Coffee Chronicles.
I am a fiction writing lover of coffee. I swig the stuff like a sailor does whisky. I take pictures of a perfect cappuccino when it sits before me, snuggled in its saucer with an accompanying spoon. The perfect cappuccino makes my day. A cappuccino is my coffee drink of choice. Hence, Always A Cappuccino.
Most of the pictures people have taken of me while I’m writing has one item in common and that is a coffee cup within reach. Creativity runs on caffeine after all.
Most of the freelance writing I’ve done in the past few years has been about coffee. Be it a specific coffee shop or the
beverage itself. When friends travel, especially to Italy, I’ve found myself giving them a list of places “they must try.”
So, I thought to myself, “self, wouldn’t it be fun to have a little place dedicated to coffee? The cafes I love. The drinks I’ve tried.” My self thought Yes please!
A few announcements you might be interested in:
Monday. I call it Monday’s with Master Shakespeare. You see, I’ve acquired a Shakespeare cut out that comes with an insult for every day. Oh, I’ve got such plans for him! If you’re interested in following his journey, you can do that here. The link is also found above.As always, thank you for your continued support!!!
Short Story…
Some of you might be new to my blog and wondering about my writing. I write books and short stories. My books are crazy adventures with elements of ridiculous entertainment, a dash of bizarre twists, a splash of spies and sometimes murder. They aren’t romance, but there’s occasionally kissing. There isn’t in depth personal analysis, but there might be some human truth. I write to entertain and keep myself engaged and it seems to work for my audience.
Now, my short stories are not a reflection of my books. Sure, they have the same voice and tone that are all mine, but I’ve always found my short stories are my time to get my angst out. Most of the time, after I’ve written a short story, I’m not sure where it came from or where its going. I so love the process.
Here’s a piece I wrote a while back based on a challenge set forth by Terribleminds. It was something he did every Friday. (A writing challenge that is.) He hasn’t done one in awhile, but the man’s life has gotten significantly busier.
This challenge was easy. First, get a title from a random title generator. Then tell the story in 1000 words.
Here’s the title: The Apocalypse Ticket
Here’s where the story took me.
A Consideration of Knots…
So I’m a writer. It has taken me a long time to admit that out loud. I held it close, like a secret identity for so long. For years I kept my writing between myself, the local magazines I wrote for, the literary journals that published my short stories and the large number of agents that requested my full manuscripts. To the rest of the world I was just…well, “just”. Just a librarian. Just a barista. Just a tour guide. Just a lover of coffee. Just a purveyor of world travel. Just someone who learned the Italian language for love of the country. Just a member of a book club. Just a Capricorn. Just a kid from Stone Mountain, Georgia.
We do that to ourselves though, don’t we? We “Just”-ify ourselves. I was talking with a physical therapist, (I’ve got a ‘hitch in my giddy up’) and she asks questions while she works, and who knew all my angst would come up through the work. I used the word ‘Should’ a lot with her. She shook her head and gently said, “there you go again, should-ing all over yourself.”
Changes…
Hello Friends!
So a few changes around my writing world. This might result in a few mistaken emails to your inbox. If that happens. I apologize, and hopefully it won’t be that intrusive.
What changes are afoot you might wonder…well!
First, the lay out of my blog has been tweaked just a bit.
Secondly, I have had a lovely long relationship with the Italian cappuccino. Aka a love of coffee. My four faithful readers will know about this. I started a side project blog awhile back, where I wrote about my love of coffee and ended up reviewing many of the coffee shops I went to in Boise, Florence and Southern California. (Because I’m lucky enough to travel between those lovely places.) I tried to separate that world from this, but now I see how imperative it is that I am fully present on my website Nicole Sharp Writes with all my interests, and flaws, and vulnerabilities and…stuff.
Okay, maybe it’s not a dire situation, but it comes down to the fact that I’m moving everything into this one place where Nicole Sharp writes.
I’ve also jumped on the social media wagon. No need to adjust your screen, you read that right. Me, the last holdout in social media land is following in suit. I’ve had nightmares and anxiety over this, but I’ve come to terms with it and how I have decided to face it. Also, no need to look outside, I can tell you that, yes indeed, hell has frozen over.
On my home page you’ll find the icon links. Here I’ll be old fashioned about it.
I am most receptive to Instagram and can be found at: https://www.instagram.com/nicolesharpwrites/
I have a bit on Twitter: https://twitter.com/NSharpWrites
And facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Nicolesharpwrites/
I’ll warn you now. I’m not good with Social Media, so please give me some growing space in that arena.
I am planning a very organic flow of interaction and entertainment in these areas, all based on the content published on my blog. Those who want to read what I have to offer will find a mix of my three passions I am fairly knowledgeable in: The writing life, Italy and coffee.
As always, my main goal is to entertain you dear reader.
(*Me standing in front of the mountain of words I’ve written since I was 12 years old, arms open wide screaming like the Gladiator, “are you not entertained?!”)
Whoa, sorry about that. Where did that come from.
I digress, my updates are an attempt to make myself more visible, brand the writer and begin the groundwork for the publishing in the coming year.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your continued support dear reader!
It’s all Greek to me…
Odysseus and his men drive a burning stake into the eye of the giant Cyclops.
I’ve been doing an online course on the Ancient Greeks, my wheel house. I find when I start to learn ‘new things’, I don’t stray far from my field of interest. My degree is in History. Antiquities, think Romans and Greeks. An email popped up from Coursera asking if I would be interested in an Ancient Greek History course. Um, yeah-sure-you-bettcha I was interested. I was looking for something to side track a bit of my time as it was, I’m so recently immersed in my frantic world of writing.
You see, the kid is back to school. The triple digit (and 90 degree) weather has broken, and it has been lovely outdoor living. Windows open and a cool morning breeze rustling through the house…that sort of lovely. I have some big plans for my career within the next year. Just got a short story accepted for publication in a literary journal. (It’s slated to be published in February of 2020.) I’ve got a few tweaks coming to the old blog here and my ‘social network’. That one makes me uncomfortable and agitated, but we’ll deal with that later.
Needless to say, I’m back to spending uninterrupted hours a day in my head. Whether writing my new book, editing two old ones, submitting my work to the usual suspects, reading books on Italian literature and listening to Russell Brand’s podcast Under the Skin…my thoughts rush around, bouncing and snapping my synapses.
Like the old days…
I was thinking about the way I used to do things.
Truth be told, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how my life used to be. In my younger years. When I was more outgoing. Not as worried and scared as I have become of late.
It’s a strange thing, there has been a noticeable timidness that’s crept into my once outgoing nature as I’ve gotten older. Yet, strangely enough, my self-confidence has been on the rise. I like to attribute the rise in self-confidence to exhaustion. I kind of don’t have time for the bullshit anymore. By Bullshit I mean worrying about what others think about my shorts in the summer, my unkempt hair, my submission to their magazines, my letting go of things that don’t serve me and never did. The other part probably has to do with my therapist and yoga practice.
(Oh god, there I’ve gone and done it. Made myself human to my three fans. Yes, I have been doing yoga on a daily basis for the past two years and yes, I have silently become that person who, upon hearing of someone’s woes, thinks to myself, “there’s a yoga pose for that.” Stupid yoga.
AND, yes, I’ve got a therapist. Sooo in touch with my feelings…(insert choking cough here.) But isn’t it interesting, the fear we have of showing our human-ness to the outside world. When my mom used to have parties at our house –and my mom was the original Martha Stewart; people came to her house and stayed long past the agreed upon conclusion time of said party -but I digress, when helping my mom to clean for those parties, she had us hiding all sorts of things. Put the toothbrushes under the sink, put the extra desk from the dining room in the garage; all clutter cleaned up and put in a closed closet. My sister and I would joke, as we helped that we needed to “hurry up and hide the human side”. I still do this, when people are coming over to my home I hide my ‘human’. I don’t let people upstairs to see the mess that didn’t get cleaned up. I hide the toothbrushes and vitamins under the sink. Little by little, I’ve been letting this practice go. I like to see other’s human side, why shouldn’t they be allowed to see mine? It’s a strange thing, allowing someone in that deeply. Past the superficial. And yet, that level of vulnerability is what draws us closer together. Isn’t this the stuff Brene Brown is always talking about?)
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