The Wall

For me, one of the difficult aspects of writing a blog is finishing what was started. Creative writing has been my shtick for a good many years. I've posted a few poems to this blog to share some of that with you. When I've written poetry, I find that I have to complete the poem in one session. I can't start it and come back to it later. The mood has changed. The muse has taken me in a different direction.

Writing a blog seems to have the same process for me. I've got a "stack" of blog topics in the queue. I've got some as titles only. Others have a list of concepts to hopefully jog my memory. And others have been started but, due to extenuating circumstances, have been left to finish later. This means the queue is getting bigger - the fear of running out of blog topics is hardly an issue.

So now I'm trying to capture the mood, the frame of mind, the energy, of a particular topic. And it is difficult. It has a great start, but is dying on the vine. And I want to finish it. I really do. The working title is "Cliché Christianity", and I stopped writing with a single reminder note: "God Moments". What the heck does THAT mean? What was the approximately three pounds of computer above my shoulders wanting to share? How do I recapture that?

What about you? I'd like to think that I'm not alone here. For those of you writing the "Great American Novel" - how do you write over a period of YEARS? And more importantly, what do you do to get that muse?

© Emittravel 2012

The Chosen Exit

Title: The Chosen Exit

Scene: A small, one-car garage. The room is dark, but for the headlights of the running automobile that shine on the back wall. There is no dialogue; only the thoughts of the main character.

Tom: (sitting in lawn chair next to car - head in hands) Just one more breath. That's all I need. One more breath. What does she know anyway? She doesn't care. She thinks I'm useless. She says she wants more. He'll never satisfy her. He can't love her like I have. Someone stable - she says. Someone with a career - she says. Someone who completes what he starts. I'll show her. One more breath. Think I won't do it? Think I'll run away? I'm more of a man than he ever'll be. More of a man than you can handle. I don't need you Katy. Go on. Just get out of my life. My life. My...life. My life is nothing without you. Go on. You'll find me and wish like hell you'd have stayed. But it's too late. I can't take it anymore. This is one project I'm finishing. Yeah. You'd…be…proud…of me…Katy. Just...one...more...breathhh.....

Scene: A small, one-car garage. The room is dark, but for the fading headlights of the silent automobile.

J.P. Wiegand

This was my entry for the December 2004 Writer's Forum Challenge on www.renderosity.com. The theme for the challenge was to write a short script, or screen play, about people trapped in a confined space (elevator, room, coffin or some other). I guess I took the idea of "trapped" and pushed it out of its box to come up with this one. 

© Emittravel 2004

Oh Man, Not Another Poetry Lesson!

One type of writing I post on this blog is poetry. I know that many people don’t give a turkey’s quill feather about poetry, but I’m okay with that. I post them because they are about My Humble But Accurate Opinion. But instead of the musings of my mind, my poetry runs the spectrum of emotion. Starting in December of 1984, and running through the present, I’ve attempted to capture the issues of life as I experienced them.

The first poem, “Dreaming of You”, was written during some major changes in my life. I had gotten into the U.S. Navy a few months prior; the first time to be truly away from home and on my own. I was in love with a girl back home and missing her terribly. So, for the first time I put my feelings into writing. Truly one of my favorite poems.

After that I used that creative outlet to express myself. The way most of these came about was that I felt a deep desire to write, driven by an emotion strongly felt in my heart. Usually, the only way to describe that emotion was to start writing. I compare the experience to “giving birth”. Not that it’s something I’ve ever truly experienced, mind you, but the cycle seemed the same. It was laborious to do. Sometimes I didn’t like the challenge of picking up the pen, because I knew what I was getting myself into. Not until I knew the poem was complete would that emotion subside, and the “baby” was born.

Not all of my poetry came about in that fashion. Some simply were the results of exposure. Being a sailor, the life of strip bars and pornography was a usual part of the life, and effected my outlooks and me.

I guess the most important thing to notice as you read is my hunger for God. When I had turned eighteen, I had abandoned my roots as a Catholic to look for God on my own. I had become greatly disillusioned with what I grew up believing, and felt that there had to be something more. You will see in the writings my hunger for Him, and my eventual coming to know Him through a relationship with His son Jesus.

All in all, these writings came from within me. They were attempts to express my opinions and myself. Not all of them will strike you, but they don’t have to. But rest assured, at one time in my life they struck me – that’s why they were written.

I wish I could share some of the more recent works, but nothing has come out in awhile. Who knows? Maybe I'll be "struck" again and write more.

I post them with their original dates for a reason – they are a reflection of who I was at that time in my life. I hope that through them you may find some of yourself as well, or at least give you reflection on that person you used to be.

© Emittravel 2011