Writer’s block sucks, especially when it’s something as simple as a blog title. Or a blog subject, for that matter.
I could write about the stress of prepping for the upcoming out-of-state war event, but I’ve done enough whining about that. I could write a short story or some flash fiction, but again, writer’s block. I could write about the fact that my industrial piercing’s healed enough for me to put my freaking sword barbell in…but that’s not enough for a whole blog post. Hell, it’s freakin’ National Poetry Day and I got nothing. Zilch. Zippo. Nada.
So what am I even doing writing right now? Honestly, I don’t know. I think I’m avoiding doing any actual work, like finishing the tunics that need to be done before the event or revising Book 1 or hell, even practicing rapier stuff. But no, I’m writing a blog. A nonsensical, pointless blog.
Sometimes I guess you just need to zone a bit. Let that mental jelly ooze out. Barf up all the thoughts that have been upsetting your stomach and then wipe the bile off the corner of your mouth and go on with life.
Okay, maybe that metaphor/analogy/whatever was a little bit gross, but you get the gist of it. Basically, even when I have nothing to write, sometimes I just have to write for the sake of writing.
Perhaps tomorrow–or the next day, or the next–we’ll be back to our semi-regularly scheduled programming.
I’m not quite sure where I’m going
I barely know where I’ve been
I want to do more than I’m doing
But I don’t know how, why, or when
I’m not quite sure what I’m doing
I don’t know quite where to begin
To do things is not really helping
To do not seems more of a sin
I’m not quite much help as a listener
And speaking always comes out wrong
I don’t quite know what I can do
I don’t quite know how to be strong
Early in the morning
Ere the sun has shown his face
My lids feel heavy
My eyes cross paths
So hard to stay awake
A mere hour before I have to get ready
For the busy day ahead
I need to wake up
To be alert
But my eyes have different ideas
They try to force my hand
To make me sleep again
I can’t let them succeed
I can’t give in
I have a job to do
No time for sleep
No time for resting those eyes
Raise those heavy lids
Force the eyes to stop crossing
My lids will meet once again in slumber
But not until the night
I wake, I shake, I look around
But my focus still cannot be found
I wake, I shake, I blink my eyes
This fuzziness has me surprised
I wake, I shake, I drink caffeine
But it really doesn’t do a thing
I wake, I shake, I feel forlorn
I cannot see this Monday morn
Well, this is somewhat interesting. My day 4 numbers as far as free book downloads were more than double the day 3 numbers. Could it be that people are trying to get the book while it’s still free?
Today will be the final day of the free book promo for my novel and my two anthologies (my poetry anthology and my short story/flash fiction anthology). The horror short anthology has been doing relatively well, considering I haven’t really advertised it specifically on social media. Not nearly as well as the novel, but decent numbers for not having been talked about.
This experiment has been interesting, given that I haven’t done anything different besides putting my novel on a temporary free promotion. Does this mean that people aren’t willing to pay the price I’ve set for my novel? If so, does it mean that the price is too high, that the blurb isn’t catchy enough for them to want to pay for it, or does it just mean that people like free stuff?
Since I’m not a scientific person by nature, I’ll probably never know the answer. Still, this has been a new experience that I will probably experiment with more later on.
My heart is empty
At the sickening news
Why can’t I feel
As others do
Why don’t I cry
Why don’t I weep
Why don’t I care
How can I sleep
And dream and live
As though nothing’s wrong
While others bleed
I sing along
As playlist finds
A happy tune
On this melancholy
Month of June
And millions mourn
So why don’t I
Feel as forlorn
I know it’s sad
I know it’s wrong
So why can’t I
Grieve for the loss
Perhaps I’m cold
Perhaps a cynic
Is there perhaps
A caring clinic
A place to go
A place to learn
How I can care
And feel concern
I don’t know what
Is wrong with me
I cannot care
‘Bout pain I see
So, as I’ve established before (or at least I think I’ve established it here before), I suck at marketing for my book. I’m trying something a little different now, though.
I’ve actually set up a temporary free promotion through Amazon KDP for a few days, starting tomorrow. I’m trying to see if this generates any “sales” (yeah, they’ll be unpaid sales, but sales nonetheless) and if it gets the word out more about the book.
I don’t know how well this will work. I don’t know if there will be ANY sales during my promotion, but I figure since it’s not selling now, what am I really missing? At least this has the potential to get more reads, reviews, etc. Maybe some of my friends & coworkers who have said they’ll read the book will actually “buy” it? 😉
But what’s this? I’ve also put my poetry anthology & collection of horror flash fiction/short stories on a free promotional period as well? I must be crazy!!!
Or….I’m just lost.
We’ll see what the next 5 days brings.
By the way, here’s a link for my Amazon author page (where you can find all three books):
It’s already showing Whispers of Death as available free to Kindle Unlimited subscribers…I don’t know if I did something wrong (the promotion is supposed to start tomorrow), but what the heck. Here I go!
The hands go round and round
The more cycles that the hands complete
Her nervousness abounds
So much work left to be done
There’s snips and clips and lengthened tails
Will she finish by the strike of one?
The list, it ever grows
The more that’s done, the more’s to do
Will she finish? No one knows
In the morning, before the dawn
I wake again, my sleep is gone
Also gone now from my day
Is any hope of restful play
I try to make some breakfast food
To lighten now my sour mood
But mood stays dark as starry sky
The time it ticks and passes by
Still my sleep I can’t regain
The path laid down is very plain
Try as I might, I can’t go back
To dreams so bright and room so black
I stretch and moan and groan and yawn
In the morning, before the dawn
Time stops for them
They’ve lost a friend
Never will they see again
Though never in the past have met
Inside they feel an emptiness
As favored star is laid to rest
So bright he shone
So swiftly gone
Never more to sing his song
So sad they seem
The pain cuts deep
In their hearts they swear to keep
As I sit and watch the pain
I wonder should I try to feign
To make myself seem more humane
But tears don’t fall
I’ve none at all
Emotionally I’ve hit a wall
I cannot feel
It seems unreal
No wounds have I that need to heal
Someone’s dead, someone’s gone
Ne’er again to sing their song
I’ve tried and tried, all day long
I cannot hide
How dead inside
Why can’t I feel when someone dies?