Peggy Sue inhaled deeply.
Focus…. She rubbed her aching shoulders. The ideas will come.
Her attempt to mentally block out the pounding rain against the circular turret windows failed. Her mood matched the grey clouds outside, venting their frustration. Rain or shine, her getaways to the family “Lighthouse Cabin” usually resulted in creative productivity.
My brain might as well be ice!
Zipping her wool sweater she grabbed her “Writing 101” class notebook. Maybe a new idea would thaw her ‘deep freeze.’ Flipping open to “Unleashing the Unconscious,” she checked off ‘Mind Mapping.’
The colorful Tree Diagram with the trunk being her story’s main idea and connecting branches holding the details worked well in the past. Likewise, the Cluster Diagram usually elicited some great descriptive word associations. But, her main character, Hannah Antanea, and story line desperately needed a word makeover!
“I’m never going to publish a novel at this rate!” She announced to herself.
Breathe, Peggy…slow and deep…now, rapid and shallow.
She closed her eyes, willing her story to come to life. Nothing!
Desperate, her ‘inner editor’ gave permission to test her peers’ remedies for “Writer’s Block.”
Ty P. Nutbutter wrote, ‘Peanuts - the best brain booster around!’
Peggy jabbed a knife into the peanut butter jar and forced the sticky goo inside her mouth. In the past, she reacted with a mild allergic reaction. Maybe her avoidance of the stuff hurt her writing.
Fifteen minutes later, she scoured the medicine cabinet for anti-itch cream. Little, red bumps surfaced on her legs and arms, begging her to scratch.
Miserable, she vowed not to give up.
Breanne Freeze advised, ‘I eat a large scoop of very, cold ice cream. After a mini headache, my creative juices start flowing!’
Hmmm…I usually save the Chocolate Macadamia Ice Cream for my reward…can’t hurt to try…maybe that would thaw my brain!
Peggy gulped down a large scoop of ice cream. Instantly, she received her ‘brain freeze.’ Only, the ‘mini’ headache evolved into a monster headache. Determined to stick with her quest, she swallowed a couple Ibuprofen and read the next suggestion.
Phil D. Birch wrote, ‘When I lack inspiration, I cradle a piece of smooth wood in my hands. Feeling the texture with my hands and fingers, help unlock my creativity.’
Trying to ignore her throbbing temples, she grabbed a wooden spoon out of the kitchen. Memories of being spanked by her parents flooded her mind. Guilt overwhelmed her as she recollected her less than kind words and actions with family the past few months. They just wanted to spend time with her. She rudely pushed them aside. She had a book to write – God’s work!
Oh, God please forgive me. I have neglected both you and my family lately, all under the guise of your ‘Kingdom work.’
She reached for her Orange-Spiced tea off the counter, only to find the mug leaking.
Oh, I get! Lord, I leak! I desperately need your filling. How I need to be still, read your Word and connect with you.
A beam of light streaked through the dark clouds. Peggy sensed God’s presence. This time, she determined to wait on Him, trusting that he would breathe fresh ideas and inspiration into her.
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