Tea Please

I have a tea reader in my story, no leaf reader mind you, but someone who dissects tea bags and talks about the decision you are about to make. Because you can only go to a reader of tea if you really can’t make up your mind. Before entering you need to pass the coin thrower, another barrier. He will toss for you and if your dilemma is solved with choosing heads or tails, you won’t get to see the Tea Reader.

(fiction) Should I pick this major?

(fiction) Should I kill my nephew?

(me, just now) What the hell am I suppose to do with my day job, I’m panicking over here. Quit? Switch careers? Go work in a grocery store?

Sometimes I wish my fictional characters were real and came to the rescue.

 

For the love of BRACKETS

I have a new found love. Brackets!

Brackets come in four shapes but I particularly favor the curly ones. { … }

My new draft swarms with them. I read a blogpost {forgot where} where this was given as a writing tip to gain and keep momentum.

Don’t know what to say? -> brackets

Need cool name but can’t come up with one ->

Have no clue what a rhinoceros eats? ->

The even better, additional tip was to put a not often used word in the brackets so you can find it easily when using Ctrl F.

My word is KROKODIL {Dutch for crocodile, and seeing I’m writing in English, the only KROKODILs are in between brackets}

Here are some real draft examples 😊

Elle falls into the embrace, into the smell of fire and {krokodil something ridiculously cool}.

The Emergency room of the station. { krokodil, add things that would be standing there}.

I thought it was a pretty cool writing  trick tip. { krokodil you can end a post better than this Irene}

 

Time Loop

I open my eyes. The day stretches before me like an unwritten text. I do the breakfast-thing, the taking-the-kids-to-school-thing and drive to work like I do every Monday. Once I’m there, I try to shake the feeling of dread holding my thoughts prisoner as I set out to do my work. My stomach demands food every hour because it knows my mind is bored. I do the calls, the documents, the appointments, forcing positivity and reality in my brain. (My job is okay, it pays good money and I don’t really hate it). More than once I think about writing, snippets of text fly through my brain and I wave them away. “Now, is not the time,” I say to myself. Knowing well enough, that NOW is all there is. When the day is done, I drive home to do the grocery thing- the cooking thing- the kids to bed thing and collapse on a chair to dive into Netflix or Prime, after which I go to bed.

Flash forward One week

I open my eyes. The day stretches before me like an unwritten text. I do the breakfast-thing, the taking-the-kids-to-school-thing and drive to work like I do every Monday. Once I’m there, I try

 Well, you know what’s going to happen. I do the same thing I did the week before. My writing dream hunts me, keeps fluttering in my brain but I stay away from it. Barely touching it. A line from Stephen King’s On writing is on repeat in my head. HOW MANY RERUNS OF ER CAN YOU WATCH.

The answer is (shamefully): a lot.

A lot of days flash by, turning into weeks, into months. Into a Time Loop, a prison of sorts I built for myself.

2020 is going to be the year I build myself another time loop. A time loop filled with words, color and story.