How to deal with writers block!

Is writer’s block getting you down? Tired of staring at the screen, hoping Gunshija, Goddess of Writers will send you divine inspiration? Well, look no further! I am going to enlighten you on how I smash through writer’s block like the Hulk smashes through walls!

THE STEPS:

1: Obtain the following items: a matchbox, the biggest bottle of gin you can find, and a picture of renowned pop star Taylor Swift. Set them on the table and croon softly to them.

2: Light a match, stare at it until it burns down, and consider all the terrible choices you’ve made in life. Rinse and repeat until the matchbox is empty. Eat the empty matchbox.

3: Smash the photograph while screaming “WHY DID YOU BETRAY ME, TAYLOR!? WHY?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY SOULMATE!!!”

4: Ignore the fact that you’ve never met Taylor Swift.

5: Chug the bottle of gin.

6: Curl into a ball and cry for several hours.

Congratulations! You are now ready to write an award winning novel or build a robot to write one for you! The world is your gin-soaked oyster! Go forth and CREATE!!!

Seeping

Seeping

By Matthew "Snooglebum" Wasik

I sail away from my home, screaming in impotent rage at those who had the hubris to create me.

I am lying on the deck now. The twinkling skies above me smile down indifferently, and sea spray licks my face, the boat rolling like an eager dog.

I think of her, as the boat creaks. Blood seeping into the deck, a smile cut short. Moments that repeat themselves over and over in my head.

I sail to a land where the trees grow like spiraling mountains, pollen gently drifting down in a haze of canary-yellow.  I burn it to the ground just for the sake of it.

I sail to the land of bubbling red lakes and speak to the natives, who’s faces are riddles and who’s words sparkle like dewdrop. I destroy as much as I can before fleeing for my life.

I sail, thinking of her, thinking of the scent of black powder, the blade slick with blood, the crack of flintlock all around me, and weep.

I sail to the end of this flat earth, and throw myself off the edge.

And I think of her as I fall.

A Cake To Die For

A Cake To Die For

By Matthew “Snooglebum” Wasik

“Hey Genene, I got your message, calling you back. So I know you and Nate have been having problems, so here’s what I suggest: get a kitchen knife, the sharpest one you have. Sharpen that sucker up even more, so it cuts through stuff real good. Ok, so you’ve got your weapon, check. So next you need to catch Nate when he’s off-guard or vulnerable. Best time would be when he’s asleep, if you can manage that, like after you two have had sex or something. If not, settle for when he’s watching a movie.

Alright, so you’ve got him with his pants down-- literally, I guess, depending on when you want to go through with it-- so all that’s left is the stabbing. A straight throat-cut won’t do, cause he’ll still be able to scream. So instead you want to stab through both his carotid arteries-- you can look up a diagram online or something--, then punch forward and down with the blade, cutting his vocal cords. You have to do this fast, for obvious reasons. Ah crap, I have to go to work soon, so I’ll follow up with you on corpse-disposal and alternate methods. Love ya, bye.”

Layla prepared to go to work. As she was driving to her place of employment, a call from Genene appeared on her phone screen, which she accepted.

“Oh! Hi Genene, how are you? Did you hear--”

“Layla, I asked for your recipe for gluten-free cake, not advice on how to kill my boyfriend.”

Flowing Blade

Flowing Blade

By Matthew “Snooglebum” Wasik

The redblooms fell early that year.

The lights of the big city behind her, Salidae strode forward, down a boulevard she didn’t know the name of. Red petals gently drifted down, a few landing on the clean white silk she wore. She didn’t bother to brush them off. A sword hung at her side, stowed in an ornate leather sheath engraved with the language of her homeland. The sheath was decorated with green vines and flowers.

It’s beautiful in Suwen this time of year. said the sword, its girlish voice echoing in Salidae’s head.

Yeah. Salidae thought back, looking around at redbloom petals as gusts of wind swept them through the air. Hey Ellie, remember the Chyras trees at home? How we always used to climb them?

Haha, yeah. laughed Ellie, giggling. You always pushed me off the branches.

Yep. I was a little prick back then. replied Salidae. Still am, really.

Yeah, but you’re my little prick, Sal. said Ellie fondly.

Salidae smiled slightly.

Thanks, El.

Ellie was an Oruja, the spirit of a dead person that had solidified into a sentient weapon. Ellie was Salidae’s companion, and more than companion.

Lady Lucky, Part 5

Lady Lucky, Part 5

By Matthew “Snooglebum” Wasik

[Missed the first part? Click here to go to the beginning!]

Leomund Skavis cursed, fumbling with the door. He had been looking for something in the storage room when the power went out suddenly. The powered door he was trying to open should have had a way to open it manually, but it seemed to be stuck.

“Hi, mister Skavis!” said a voice behind him. Skavis froze. He knew that voice. He spun around, clicking on his flashlight. But there was no one there.

“No.” he said, disbelief in his voice. “I killed you. I saw you burn. What are you!?”

Lady Lucky, Part 4

Lady Lucky, Part 4

By Matthew “Snooglebum” Wasik

[Missed the first part? Click here to read from the beginning!]

Ty awoke slowly, the roof of the medbay gradually coming into focus. Everything was still blurry, and he was faintly nauseated. He looked to his side, his head lolling awkwardly. He saw Melody, hand-washing her bloodstained medical smock in the sink, the blue-tinged synthwater expunging the blood from the garment.

“Heeeeyyyyy Melody.” he said. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and he could feel a faint pain in his chest. “Watcha doin’?”

Melody looked around and smiled. “Trying not to spread disease.” she said, holding up the smock. “How about yourself? How are you feeling?”

“Feel like my head is a balloon.” answered Ty. “What happened?”

Lady Lucky, Part 3

Lady Lucky, Part 3

By Matthew “Snooglebum” Wasik

[Missed the first part? Click here to go to part 1!]

The Lady Lucky pulled into Parity Station the next day, the ship’s retro rockets firing to correct its course. It passed through the hangar bay’s quietly humming shield bubble, and into the bay proper. A series of midair landing lights glowed brightly, directing Ty to exactly where he should land the Lady Lucky.

“Alright, alright…. we… are on the ground!” said Ty triumphantly. He pressed the comms button and spoke into it: “ladies and gentlemen, feel free to unfasten your seatbelts, not that you needed them because I’m such a damn good pilot.”