Writer’s Block

My heart pounds in my chest as thoughts of bankrupting my family and being homeless fill my head with terror and my chest with pressure, all because I quit my job to follow my dream of writing full time.

I never realized a blank white page could shout fear enough to make my hands shake and hope enough to make me dream.

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Doom’s Wordsmith

For his writing instruments, Marcus uses fountain pens made from black ivory and blessed by a witch doctor in New Guinea. He lances the blood from his very veins to provide these pens with the only kind of ink that appeases their hunger, lest something unfortunate happens to him.

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Pretty Little Writer

I had long grown accustomed to the light that shone off her face like mystic white porcelain when the darkness of night surrounded us that was not from the glow of candlelight but was rather produced by the screen of the laptop she balanced on top of her thighs.
As the steady tap-tap-tap of the keyboard under her pretty-but-agile little fingers lulled me nearly to sleep, I took in a deep, fulfilling breath and sighed with the pleasure of knowing that my beloved wasn’t just any woman – she was a writer.

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