B is for Butter

Butter me up, babe.
I've got a bee in my bonnet
banging away,
that stinging belief is
always there, 
that I can,
you know,
bleed words on a page.

Last night, my writers' group met, four women who write in different genres, knuckling drafted words to final form. Usually I take a scene from Rivers of Stone, as I slog through research and try to add depth and detail to my story. But last night, I took something different, a beginning of another story, not historical fiction, but maybe a crime/thriller, an opening scene about a emergency room nurse and a shot-up police officer.

At the end of the day, I like to read stories far different from those I write. This week, I came across a paranormal novella. The premise sparked with edgy humor. Pure entertainment. This writer (he who shall remain nameless) wrote a great blurb and the opening chapter delivered. But very shortly, the characters began to dither, the plot dissolved, and after 27,000 words or so, the story ended, unresolved and with a plug for his next story. I was sorry I had downloaded this story, though the blurb remains a masterpiece.

Why did I take something different to my writers' group? Some writers say we should work on more than one project, so that if one stalls, another picks up. Maybe I'm so deep in research and editing just now, I wanted to feel again the thrill of simply writing.

Other writers ask how can you immerse yourself in a story with full attention if you are flitting from story to story, rather like a bee gorged with nectar, legs clogged with pollen?

Alas, the writing life is never simple. It all boils down to belief. And that's my "B."

This post is part of a month of poems and commentary for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge and NaPoWriMo, both blog hops and celebrations of National Poetry Month. Join in. Write a little something. Check out what others have written. Believe in your own sweet writing.

Spring at Manito Park, Spokane