The Holdup

man using laptop on table against white background
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Lately, one of my biggest struggles has been trying to write every day. When I am troubled or just really need to get something down I usually don’t have a problem but lately it has been a catastrophe when I attempt to write. I didn’t anticipate encountering this when I’d previously had a sort of routine for sitting down to get some writing done. Apparently, I was sorely mistaken.

In an attempt to fix this I have been trying to read more since I believe the two are closely connected. However that hasn’t been working either. I have found myself rereading some of the same books trying to inspire myself and still nothing. This weekend, I even binge watched an entire twenty-three episode show in an attempt to get some inspiration. I was only inspired to watch more shows.

I don’t know what else I should try or how to break out of this slump. So I’m going to try two things 1.) freewriting  for at least thirty minutes and 2.) selecting five to seven words from my GRE flash cards and incorporating them into a writing. My goal is to try to do these each day for the next week or so in the hopes that it will help .

Does anyone have any suggestions on breaking a writing slump? I’d love to hear any tips or suggestions.


Long, too long America- Walt Whitman

Under the present circumstances, I felt that this was a great piece to post today. America is, in my opinion, still the most amazing country but I also view it without blinders. I have to and not just because of my natural cynicism. This poem by a great American poet pays tribute to the country but the first line speaks directly to the feelings of a lot of Americans right now.

arizona asphalt beautiful blue sky
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Long, too long America,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful you learn’d from joys and prosperity only,
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish, advancing, grappling with direst fate and recoiling not,
And now to conceive and show to the world what your children en-masse really are,
(For who except myself has yet conceiv’d what your children en-masse really are?)


Tonight I’m sharing something that I’ve been toying with. I have shared previously that I want to try working with shorter forms so I had to post this. It isn’t really finished, I could see myself adding at least another stanza but I wanted to share. Over the summer, I hope to go back to some of the books from my earlier classes and work on experimenting with various forms. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Also, please excuse the cute picture that accompanies this post. I saw it and couldn’t resist.

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You wear your disdain like a badge

Spearing others with it

As if it were the

spines of a porcupine.


The Thief

Today’s poem was inspired by a piece I recently read from one of my closest friends. It made me want to write a poem from the perspective of someone without as much courage as she displayed. An voila, a poem was born. I hope you all enjoy it.

I may or may not be posting something else tomorrow but if not enjoy your weekend!


You unfurl slowly

Like tea leaves

Leaving behind hints of sandalwood and citrus

When you go

I avert my eyes to

Prevent you from seeing the tears

Waiting to fall.

In another moment, it will be like you were never here

The only invisible man I’ve ever adored

I wait until you’ve completely disappeared before

Roll to the other side of the bed and

Admit that you could possibly

Fill up the empty places.


Jeopardy snippet- Discovery

This is a snippet of the first novel that I ever attempted to write. It’s also the first piece that I went back to when I started doing NaNoWriMo in 2013. This is on my list of works that I want to finish this year. As a result, I’ve been compiling all of the various snippets and chapters and want to get it printed out so that I can go through and see how complete it really is. Judging by my list, I only need to revise and organize but I’m sure that’s incorrect.

The novel is a romantic suspense and I’m hoping to be able to have it finished by the end of the year(or sooner).

pexels-photo-257897.jpegLooking through the inventory of items collected from the scene I realized that there was no record of David’s personal cell phone, his briefcase, or any record of his appointments. I felt myself frown as I reviewed the list again. Without looking up, I picked up the phone and called CSU. When someone answered I asked for Agnew. He came to the phone and gruffly asked what I needed.

“Hey, this is Robinson from CID. I’m looking at the inventory from the Dixon crime scene. We didn’t recover any cell phones or personal items connected to the victim? I asked. I knew it was unnecessary, Agnew ran a meticulous ship but I just had to be sure.

“No, your inventory shows everything we collected. There were no personal items to indicate that the victim drove himself to the office. I think we only found his office keys and his security badge to get in the office” he told me. I thanked him and was about to hang up when I hear him call out “Hey Nat! Don’t forget you owe me $30” he said.

“We were robbed” I told him and hung up.

My niece and his son played in the same soccer league and he bet me that their team wouldn’t win their last game. He was right, they finished the season 0-9.

“What’s going on?” Dutch asked. I told him what I’d discovered and wondered aloud if the items had been found in David’s home.

SAC Santiago who by this time had taken off his suit jacket and was reviewing another list told me that no cell phones, briefcase or PDA was listed on David’s home inventory. Lipscomb confirmed that nothing like that had been found. If it had he would have told us. There had been a desktop, MacBook, and iPad found though and the techs were scrubbing those.

“Lips, can you check with tech and see if he had an appointment book on any of his computers?” I asked. He left the room to do that and Dutch reminded the rest of us that we had the next best thing if we couldn’t locate a physical copy of his appointment.

We all looked at him waiting for him to make sense.

“Janice Bryant” he said. We continued to stare at him, not getting the point he was trying to make.
“Who do you think made the majority of his appointments?” he asked. “Even if she uploaded them to a system that they shared she’d still have a password protected copy on her hard drive.”

“He has a point” Santiago said. “There’s also the chance that he left the physical copy at her house. After all, we have no idea where he was kidnapped from. Bryant was in a study group that evening right?” he asked.

We confirmed that and he continued on to say that if David was taken from his girlfriend’s home then the perp had to work fast because he had no idea when she’d get home.

That made sense so we decided to go over to the one location that we hadn’t searched yet. I couldn’t believe that Janice would be willingly hiding anything from us but she’d been a mess both times we spoke to her so it was possible that all of the missing items were sitting right in her apartment. I tried to call her but she didn’t answer at home or on her cell.

“Sir, would you like to come with us?” I asked. “After all you’ve been working with us for quite a few hours and you might be able to give us new insight on Ms. Bryant.”

As we drove to Janice’s address I tried to call her two more times as we talked about various cases and what caused me to transfer from the Newark office. When we arrived we noticed that Janice’s car was there in spite of the fact that she hadn’t answered my calls. We surveyed the surrounding before leaving the car and heading towards the building. We got to the building just as another tenant was about to go inside. I flashed my badge and told her that we needed to do a safety check on one of her neighbors and she agreed to allow us to follow her inside.

“I don’t normally do this” she told us, “but I saw you two on the news last night so I know you’re really FBI agents. Even in this neighborhood you can never be too safe”

I agreed with her and she smiled at us before heading towards her own door. We stopped at Janice’s front door and Dutch was about to knock when something made me grab his hand at the last second.

“Wait” I whispered. I cocked my head closer to the door and felt it again. Something was wrong. I told Dutch and he pulled his gun. He counted one-two-three by raising his fingers and on the third finger we kicked in the door.

The living room was in disarray and on the floor between the couch and coffee table lay a bleeding Janice Bryant.