Naked thoughts in New York City

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Restless.

I throw back the white cotton sheet.

Laying naked, letting the air circulate over my skin hoping for coolness.

No relief.

Padding barefoot I cross the room.

Sliding the glass doors open, stepping onto the balcony.

The slight breeze a welcome freshness.

Looking down, way down below,

I see the cars snaking through the city,

Yellow cars.

All cars are taxis at night, cabs running to and fro,

Making frivolous journeys for inconsequential people.

I see dots, little dots moving irregularly.

They are humans, tiny individuals,

Way below.

A fire truck passes, lights flashing,

Multiple glints against the glass buildings.

The deep honk of the fire trucks horn billows,

Suffocating all other sounds for that instant.

I look out, around me.

Towers.

Reflections, light and glass.

I see inside lighted rooms, empty offices, lounges, bedrooms.

Nobody has curtains, nobody draws their blinds.

Seduced by the height, blinded by reflection,

They think they are obscured from vision.

But I can see them, all of them.

I am standing in darkness, hidden in the shadows, looking out.

One pair of a thousand eyes, from a thousand dark places,

Windows, balconies, rooftops, all staring at the city,

Watching it move, pulsate, vibrate, gyrate.

Who, I wonder, is watching me as I stand here naked,

Breathing in the night air, cooling my skin.

I do not care.

Look all you want, feast your eyes,

Fantasise, ogle, masturbate if you wish, I do not know you, nor you me.

Even if you are there, in one of those thousand windows,

Or upon one of a thousand rooftops, if you exist anywhere but in my imagination,

I still do not care.

Another siren, echoes reverberating up the sides of the towers,

Lights flashing, reflected, refracted, distorted in the mirror glass.

I turn around and pad barefoot back to the bed.

The faint light falls on her skin, she sleeping with one leg out,

Twisted in the sheet I discarded, the other splayed wide and her arms akimbo.

Hair pouring over the pillows, a delta of soft threads.

There is no room for me now.

I do not want to wake her, or disturb her slumber.

I am not tired, I have no desire to sleep.

I grab a drink from the kitchen and go back onto the balcony,

This time I sit, open my laptop and light a cigarette.

I write this, my random thoughts of dark recesses, prying eyes,

Mirrored glass walls, and yellow taxis,

I write of my sleepless night in New York City.

END

© Paul White 2014

FFCO‎0911‎2014

One tip which helps make writers successful.

Crazy Writer


Those of you who are regular readers of this blog will know I have three major dislikes when having conversations and discussions with other writers.

By writers I am being all inclusive, whether you are and Author, a Blogger, Journalist or Essayist, in fact whatever disciplines you generally undertake; although some parts are directed more towards creative writers, the overall subject matter is applicable to all genres of writing.

Firstly let me reiterate the three dislikes I mentioned above.

One, Lists.3021379-inline-johnny-cashs-perfect-to-do-list

This is a quick cop-out for many Bloggers, Journalists and Article writers. I could quite easily have entitled this Blog as ‘Three things I hate about writers’, or ‘The ten worst things to do as a writer’. It is so easy to throw together a few clipped items about anything and collate a list. It is bullshit and writing at its laziest.

In fact, I should not grace ‘lists’ as writing at all but as compiling.

(That said the more astute of you will realise that you are reading point one on a ‘list’ of three items)!

LMAO.

Yet this blog is not just a meaningless list of three things; there is a point to it, some REAL content. (Which differentiates my construal of just listing items for little reason and using them as an inclusive part of a constructive essay).

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So on to my second dislike, Writers Block.

This condition does not exist. It is false, a myth, a feeble excuse dreamed up by lazy writers who need something to blame, besides their own inadequacies, for not writing.

This may sound harsh, but honestly it is the truth.

As an example you may be at a particular stage, in this great and wonderful novel which you are writing, where the plot has become so tangled and complicated you are having problems writing any further, so you stop writing.

Then you start to hesitate about returning to the book, because you know you may have to go back and re-write much of it, so you procrastinate.

This procrastination then starts to fester in your mind. You worry if you can write well enough, or that all these past weeks have just been a waste of time. So you, once again, put off writing anything and say you have writers block.

BULLSHIT.

The whole point of writing is to sit down and write. It does not have to be a stream of constant writing on one project or one topic. Start a new book or write a short story. Write a Blog about something you like, or a tale from your life. If you do not want to blog, write a poem or two, or three. Even a letter to your Mother or Sister.

Write something, just write something, while your mind is working out what you need to do to get your novel back on track. If you are writing anything you do not have an excuse to believe you have writers block. Simple.

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writers-block

Ok, Number Three dislike. Lack of things to write about!

Yes, I have heard this one too many times, but it still amuses me.

I have heard writers say things like, ‘I have some rough ideas, but nothing solid’ and ‘I’m not sure how to start’ or ‘I don’t know what to write about’ even ‘I have a story, but don’t know how to end it’.

The one thing in common was that none of these writers had actually started to write anything. Therefore it amused me because often you do not have a ‘beginning’ or an ‘end’ or that much content UNTIL you start to write. That is what re-writing and editing is all about, why ‘cut & paste’ is such a popular tool!

Inspiration and stimulation are the keystone to most writing, (I say most because little of that is needed in technical manuals)! But as I have said this Blog is directed at creative writing where the most important aspect IS having a plethora of subject matter, ideas, concepts, notes, notions, outlines, inklings and whatevermacallits floating about in both your conscious and un consciousness.

Once you have found a way to keep your creative stimuli fully charged you will never ‘run out’ of ideas, subjects and topics to write about.

Which neatly brings me to the point of this Blog, the one tip which has helped many writers become successful at what they do.

plug-in world1

You have to ‘PLUG IN’ to the world around you. You have to become sponge-like and absorb the world with all its idiosyncrasies.

I read the newspapers, not for the depressing headlines about conflicts, politicians filling their pockets at the taxpayers’ expense, or how the financial state of outer-Mongolia is affecting house prices in Downtown Backwater.

I read the local and regional newspapers looking for odd, offbeat stories. I try and extract the human and emotional feelings of those affected. I do the same with the radio, I do not have music on all day but tune into certain stations which cover a myriad of articles and ‘human interest’ stories.

Many times I scan the internet, from other peoples Blogs to news articles from Huffington, New York Times, the London Times, and a thousand and one other sources which are readily available.

I type into the search bar things like ‘Sad Stories’, ‘Mad Men’, ‘murder scenes’, ‘Strange Encounters’ and a hundred and one other random searches.

I am not looking to steal anyone’s work, this is not a matter of plagiarism, but a way to find inspiration, stimulation. I am looking for that ‘Trigger point’ to prompt me to start a new story. The story will most probably be an amalgamation of ten thousand and one little bits and pieces that I have remembered or noted, which have just become a single piece due to that ‘Trigger’.

So go on, take a tip from some great authors and ‘Plug in’ to the world around you.

It works for me!

Thank you for reading this rather rambling, Rambling, Paul.

© Paul White 2015

http://paulznewpostbox.wix.com/paul-white-writer

RACO050315

Why would you even bother reading a book?

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    Believe it or not this was said to me today in a general conversation. Needless to say that the person who spoke these particular words did not know I was an author; I did not enlighten them either!

    However, for my part these simple few words started a chain of thought that, as the day progressed, continued to reoccur in various forms. This post is the result of some of the fleeting impressions these musings have left me.

    By the way I am solely writing with regards to reading fictional books, as this was the original topic of discussion this morning.

    For those techno-loving geeky types, I am not separating e-books from their paper counterparts as they were not distinguished as separate entities during the debate.

So on with the post…….Firstly, why read a book when we are surrounded by a plethora of various media platforms, allowing access to just about every form of entertainment available by a simple click of a mouse, a push of a button, or a touch of a screen?

My answer to this is that all forms of moving picture media leaves very little exercise for the mind.

Once again I will say ALL forms, whether it is a chick-flick or shoot-um-up film, a drama, play, soap opera, or another genre.

Each and every one spoon feeds the viewer the information required and therefore leaves very little, if anything for the imagination to create.

However involved the viewer may become in the plot of the programme he or she is watching, their mind is purely focused on the screen, watching antics and listening to the words of the actors alone.

Do not get me wrong, I enjoy a good film as much as the next man; I love watching plays and intriguing dramas, and yet no matter how well directed, produced, or acted they may be, such simply cannot begin to compete with a well written book.

What is so special about reading is that it can do something that no other form of entertainment can possibly achieve.fit-girl-working-out-fgp9n

A book can give your mind a ruddy good workout, a neuron enhancing, cognitive improving gym session like no other.

Allow me to explain……When you watch something on a screen you are seeing a story through the eyes of the director, via a screen writers interpretation of a story that has most probably been adapted from another medium, possibly that well written book I mentioned a short while ago.

Therefore what you are seeing is actually a director’s vision, of a third of fourth hand edited version of an original work. Doesn’t seem so good now does it?

Another downside to watching a screenplay is when one of the characters, (which will be the actors portrayal of the watered down interpretation of the directors version of that original piece of work), walks across the car park and drives away in a dark shiny car, you will see exactly from which direction the actor enters the car park, see how the parking lot is lit, know what model car he climbs into, and just how fast he drives away.

That is okay, but it is hardly fascinating, is it?

However, within those magic pages of a book all that action is yours, and yours alone. No one else will ever see the same man walk through the same car park and slide behind the wheel of that car. Only you know how the parking lot smells, which lights were dim and flickering. Only you can sense the suppleness of the leather seats and watch through the windshield as he drives, tyres squealing, up the ramp and out into the….daylight / darkness of a rainy night?

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Now you are beginning to see why I love reading.

Everything conjured up by the words on the page are designed to stimulate your mind, not only by guiding you through the storyline, the plot, sub-plots and twists to bring you to a conclusion, but to excite every cerebral nerve in your mind to create entire worlds where you can escape to for hours on end.

It is your personal world, an exclusive world, where every drop of rain, each blade of grass, the people who inhabit it, the scents, the very texture of material are all yours, and yours alone. A semi-mystical fantasy world where love, hate, lust, passion, jealousy and forgiveness can be experienced without fear.

There is no other form of entertainment that can even come anywhere close to that which can be delivered by a good book.

As I have said above, I love reading, I enjoy the escapism it provides. Which is also why I enjoy writing; when I write I hope to give my readers the same experience, the same satisfaction that I get when I’m deeply lost, in my own netherworld, following the storyline of a Novel.

Even if you do not read one of my books, please buy one, even two of somebody else’s and start reading straight away. I know you will enjoy.

Thanks for reading this!

Paul.