In this episode we cover: 

• What are tarot cards and how do they work
• How tarot cards can help authors start creating
• Common blockers writers struggle with
• Learning to interpret tarot cards
• Using tarot to create characters and plot

Sacha’s Tarot Cards:

Find out more about Mariëlle:

Website

Podcast

Facebook

Instagram

So You Want to Sling Cards, Too? Three-week mini-course for beginning cardslingers

Tarot for Creatives upcoming Kickstarter campaign

Rebel of the Week is: Kiersten

If you’d like to be a Rebel of the week please do send in your story, it can be any kind of rebellion. You can email your rebel story to rebelauthorpodcast@gmail.com

No new patrons this week, but a big thank you to my existing patrons. If you’d like to support the show, and get early access to all the episodes as well as bonus content you can from as little as $2 a month by visiting: www.patreon.com/sachablack

The post 237 How to Write Using Tarot with Mariëlle S Smith appeared first on Sacha Black.

The post 175 Shut Up and Write the Book with Jenna Moreci appeared first on Sacha Black.

In this episode we cover: 

• Why mindset is so important
• The most common mindset roadblocks
• Tools and techniques for helping you improve your mindset
• How to keep your starting energy going to help you finish your book
• Mindset myths

This week’s question is: What aspect of mindset do you struggle with most?

Recommendation of the week is: The World of LORE: Dreadful
Places by Aaron Mahnke

Apple

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Amazon UK

Amazon USA

***This podcast uses affiliate links

Links and events I mentioned are:

The Rebel Author Diaries Anthology Submissions are now open.

Find out more here.

Find out more about Kristina on:

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Productivity for Writers

How to Write Believable Characters

Rebel of the Week is: Mira Monroe

If you’d like to be a Rebel of the week please do send in your story, it can be any kind of rebellion. You can email your rebel story to rebelauthorpodcast@gmail.com or instagram me @sachablackauthor

1 new patron this week, welcome and thank you to Shane Milar and thank you to Juneta for editing her pledge up. Of course, a big thank you to all my existing patrons. If you’d like to support the show, and get early access to all the episodes as well as bonus content you can from as little as $2 a month by visiting: www.patreon.com/sachablack

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The post 085 How Mindset Can Improve Your Craft with Kristina Adams appeared first on Sacha Black.

But sometimes, after you’ve been chucking up the good kind of word vomit (the one that’s rough round the edges but makes pretty pictures in the middle) all of a sudden it stops. Then you’re pouring out illegible turds, minus the glitter and shine.

Something’s broke. Really broke. It’s not writers block, because the words still come. Only now they’re turd-words instead of smothered with genius literary butter.

Now, no matter what you do, the pretty word vomit won’t come back. So what do you do? If you’re anything like me, you either:

• Beat yourself with a pen chain and spiral bound notepad until your face is pitted with imprints or
• Fall into a deep pit of self-deprecating writerly hatred

Neither of which are particularly effective at producing anything other than obscure shaped bruises. Trust me.

I had to try something new… So today, is less of a crazy lesson with bookish explanations and crude examples, and instead a lesson I’ve learnt through experience on my writing journey.

I’m working on 13 Steps to Evil right now, it’s my non-fiction book designed to help writers create the best villains possible. But something was off. It wasn’t hanging right and I couldn’t get the examples right. No matter what I did, crapsicles kept falling onto the page instead of the glorious wordery I was wanted.

The book was fucked. Royally. And it was in serious danger of being resigned to fuckit bucket so I could move on and write the prequel to Keepers (my first fiction novel which is with beta readers right now). But I don’t give up. Ever. And villains wasn’t about to beat me this time either.

What do you do in the case of word-turd? Let me know in the comments below.

I decided that if hammering away through the word shite wasn’t working, there was only one other option.

Just fucking stop. I put down the proverbial pen, and stepped the fuck away from the computer.

I know. I know. Don’t freak out…. But apparently a writer can stop… you know… writing. Seriously, it’s true. I did it. Despite shocking the shit out of myself and walking around like a lost ghost sheep. I actually stopped writing.

I mean, I don’t ever stop. Like never. There are no Sundays, no mid-week rests or Friday nights off for a takeaway.

I write E.V.E.R.Y.S.I.N.G.L.E.F.U.C.K.I.N.G.D.A.Y

My kind of ‘binge’ on a Friday night, doesn’t involve mini skirts, excessive eyeliner and wine buckets. It involves frantic slapping of the keyboard, adding more forehead grooves to my brow than Grammy’s, filling my table with stale discarded coffee cups and post-its. LOTS OF POST-ITS.

I started writing every day because I thought that’s what you were supposed to do. I’d read it somewhere. So it must be true. Only, back then, I knew shit all and didn’t realise that what everyone meant was not that you had to write everyday,  but build a habit.

It doesn’t matter if you write for 10 minutes a day, or 1 hour every three days. The point is, if you want to be a writer, you need to integrate writing into your life, treat it like a job.

Anyhoozle, I wrote everyday until the habit became an obsession, that became an addiction. Now, if I even get a whiff that I might not be able to write of an evening, or lunchtime or anytime, I’m like an angry bitch protecting her new cubs. Come anywhere near my laptop or headspace and I’m guna rip your head off and make your spine a chew toy for my characters.

So I stopped writing. I didn’t know how long I’d stop for. I just had to stop. I put the pen lid back on and walked away. I did other shit, like live. Talk to my writing-widow wife, meditate, listened to music and tried not to think about writing or the villain shaped problem.

I’d committed to taking a break and if that meant a week off and deadlines having to shunt, then so be it, and if you know anything about me, you know that deadlines do not move. I’d rather cut out my kidney and pawn it for a roach infestation than move a deadline.

Praise be the karmic power of a break because it didn’t take long for the answer to arrive. I had two issues.

1. Apparently, I am a pathetic pawn, a disembodied slave to my characters who write the book for me. It was only when I realised there were no sodding characters in non-fiction that I worked out why it was so effing hard to write. BALLS.
2. Villains started as a series of blog posts, that became crazy popular and still get me tens of thousands of views every year. So when I started writing the book, I just sort of carried on. I figured I’d pants my way through it, you know, like fiction, when you make shit up. Umm, No. Wrong. So fucking wrong. Non-fiction requires quite the structure, instensive planning and careful consideration of EVERYTHING. Or at least it does for me. And there I was convinced I was an out and out pantser. 

You don’t need my permission, but you have it. Next time you vomit word turd on the page, just fucking stop. Step away from the computer, take a chill pill, drink wine, motorboat a cupcake, smoke a joint, whatever your poison take it in large quantities and when you’ve recovered, go back and write on my story soldiers. 

Sometimes we just need to stop, breathe and write on. 

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The post The Power of Stop. Breathe. Write On. appeared first on Sacha Black.

I need your help.

I’ve had an idea. I know. I know. Finish the chuffing books you’re working on first. But you know I can’t help myself. Besides, this is for research purposes only…I won’t write a word until at least one of my other books is finished…honest.

Have you ever, or do you currently have a problem with your writing?

It could be ANYTHING. From pesky crutch words, to not being able to blend between scenes or chapters. Maybe you just can’t get your character arc right. Or perhaps its dialogue that plagues you. Is it the outline? The synopsis? Or just plain old fight scenes that bug you.

Whatever your writing woe/s, I am desperate to find out.

Sometimes I sit down at my computer ready to smash out words. Confident I am going to write the next war and peace. Then this happens:

Roughly four seconds later I commence a bit of this:

This can take a while… But eventually, I will stay sane long enough to bitch slap my angry puffer fish impression back into check. Sadly, the psychotic break usually ends me looking something like this:

Is it just me, or does this happen to every writer? Alright, maybe in a little less extreme way. But if you ever get even a hint of frustrated with your manuscript I need to know.

I need a list of at least 100 common problems. That’s a lot, so if you know any other writers, please tell them and ask them to drop me a line.

To business, I need 5 pieces of information from you:

1. A description of your writing woe/s (you can have as many as you like, but please don’t just say #everything!)
2. Specifics: Does it happen every time you write a story? Or was it just the once? But importantly, why is this a problem for you.
3. Let me know whether or not you over came it, and if you did how.
4. Whether you are a plotter, Pantser or somewhere in the middle (this is also important)
5. Lastly, whether you would be willing to let me contact you further on this specific problem, if so, a contact of some variety for you.

If you don’t want to leave a comment on here, please drop me a line on:

Sachablack87 (AT) gmail (DOT) com

Bonus points to anyone who answers this question: 

What do you define as writers block? Is it when you face a problem that takes an age to defeat, or is it the blankness of your mind?

Thank you in advance for helping me <3

 If you liked this post, subscribe here to get writing tips, tools and inspiration as well as information on the release of my books.

The post Got A Writing Problem? Let Me Know appeared first on Sacha Black.

My lovely friend from work, who now blogs, Wandering Willis, gave me my current word collection notebook before she trotted off travelling. She blogs about her travels in South East Asia – check her out.

I collect words in a multitude of ways.

I am signed up to two online dictionary’s word of the day. Every day without fail, I get a new word in my inbox, if you don’t get these, you should – I really do learn something new every day! I’ve signed up to Dictionary.com and Merriam-Webster.

When I started writing this post, I came across this little gem of a website too, the Phrontistery which lists 17,000 unusual English words, as well as linking you through to a secondary website that detailed lost English words. Jackpot! *rubs hands, squeals like a child*

As I said in my original post I spend the entire time I read, highlighting sentences and scribbling them into notebooks. As I approach 30 (eek) I decided to try and achieve something. In fact, 30 somethings. One of those things is to learn some Latin.  I was never given the chance to learn it at school, so I’m determined to learn some now. I am quietly obsessed with ancient languages, you only need look at my sons name to know that. But more than any, I adore Latin, it’s the superiority of the language and the fact that some of the words are untranslatable.

Which brings me nicely to this post. I love untranslatable words. I did a Writespiration on the word Hiraeth some time ago. But here is a list of just some of the words I have collected. Some are English, others are not, but I think each one is wonderful.

Tarantism – Is said to be a form of hysterical behaviour, cause by the bite of the wolf spider Lycosa tarantula. The victims engage in a frenzied dance to save their lives.

Timocracy – A form of government in which Honour is the dominant motive of rulers.

Kalon – Beauty is more than skin deep – an idealised view of physical and moral beauty.

Nedovtipa – A Czech word that means, someone who finds it difficult to take a hint.

Natsukashii – A Japanese word that describes feeling nostalgic after a sudden trigger reminded you.

Selcouth – Unfamiliar, rare and strange yet marvellous.

Sapiosexual – Someone who is attracted to intelligence in others.

Frowzy – habitually unkempt, slovenly.

Orphic – Mysterious and entrancing beyond ordinary understanding.

Froward – Habitually rebellious, wilfully contrary.

Tartle – To hesitate when introducing someone because you have forgotten their name.

Dysania – Finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning.

Habromania – Delusions of happiness.

Paracosm – A detailed, prolongation of a child’s imaginary world where a child includes human, creature or aliens creations.

Anacampserote – something that can bring back a lost love.

Paedarchy – A government run by children.

Anagapesis – No longer feeling any emotion towards someone you once loved.

Noosphere – The sum of human thought, knowledge and culture.

Pettifoggery – A trivial argument.

Vernorexia – A romantic mood inspired by springtime.

Chrysalism – the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

Noctuary – The record of a single nights events, dreams or thoughts.

Altschmerz – Weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had—the same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been gnawing on for years.

Rubatosis – The unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat – I particularly like this one because I am acutely aware of my own heartbeat, I can slow it down just by thinking about it – bit of a party trick!

Hybristophilia – The attraction to extremely violent criminals or those that have committed gruesome crimes.

Frith – A deer forest.

Zatch – Female genitalia!

Obambulate – To wander about.

***

Let me reiterate why, if you don’t already collect words you really should. Have you ever had writers block? I’ve written book one in my Keepers series, it’s sitting ready to be edited. I wanted to start book two, but I was blocked. Paralysed because I had spent so long absorbed in the first book I hadn’t stopped to think about book two. I had no idea where I was taking the story. After delving into a list of unusual words, guess what… I had an epiphany, inspired by one of the words that gave me the ultimate conflict for my book. Next time your blocked, dig into the dictionary!

The post The Zen of Finding Lost Words appeared first on Sacha Black.

A couple of weeks ago, I asked you to write the best worst opening line you could think of. Well now I am asking you to write the best WORST ending you can come up with. Once again, there will be a winner and runner up and if we get some funny entries I may just pick a comedic winner too!

What do I mean by worst? 1. Write it badly, break rules, make sentences long and arduous use adverbs… whatever you like, but do your worst, it needs to be so bad, its stinks. 2. Make the story ending stink too, what’s the worst ending to a story you can think of? Write that! Heres mine: I sat at the table in the kitchen and ate the cereal my brother had given me for dinner with the red spoon I liked. I was glad mum wouldn’t shout at me or ground me or take my pocket money away now that I had found the toy I lost the other week when I was in the park, yes, I was glad everything was sorted now.  THE END. Terrible wasn’t it?! Your turn! Now to last weeks writespiration. Just one entry last week, from Hugh, with a seriously chilling tale about crossroads: “Just do as the dam Sat Nav tells you Colin, and turn right. How many time I have got to tell you, just do as it says.” Colin looked at the crossroads ahead of him. Sheila had done nothing but nag him for the last 44 years. Yes, they were lost but he was sure the right turn was the correct one to take. “Are you sure dear? I’m pretty sure if we turn left–” “JUST TAKE THE RIGHT TURN COLIN!” Colin took the right turn as both the Sat Nav and Sheila told him. They found Sheila’s body, and what remained of the car, at the bottom of the cliffs the following morning. Colin’s body was never found.

***

The post Writespiration #45 appeared first on Sacha Black.

Life’s a funny old thing, so often we go through difficult times and have to make hard choices. Sometimes we lose friends, loved ones, gain new ones, have children. We travel and feel moved to change our entire lives. We give up careers and start again. I’ve seen my fair share of cross roads probably the most significant was being told if I waited to have kids, it might be too late.

My choice?

Turn left – be young free and have money, travel.

or

Turn right – fork out thousands for fertility treatment and suffer losses and emotional torment.

I turned right. It was the right decision, but when you’re faced with a cross roads the decision isn’t always obvious.

This week, the writespiration is all about Cross Roads. Maybe your character is physically at a cross road, maybe they have a choice to make. If you fancy joining in, jot a few words or a short story and I will publish it with next weeks post.

Here’s mine:

He was trembling.

“You’re pathetic,” I growled.

His incessant twitching was irritating. The tap, tap, tap, of the tightly wound knot rattled against the chair I’d tied him to. It was giving me a headache.

I put the cold barrel of the magnum against my temple hoping the cool metal would ease the ache and pulled another dining room chair out. I sat down in front of him. 

“You got a choice, Marty.”

Sweat dripped off his face and crawled across his shirt. I pointed the gun at his chest, rubbing the barrel into the sweat.

“Get a grip of your self…” I dug the gun into his chest a few times. Each time, he wince harder. 

“Baby… honey… You don’t have t..”

I slid my finger over the hammer and pulled it down till it clicked. 

“Did I say you could talk?”

He pulled his lips tight and shook his head.

“You had twenty years of marriage to talk, Marty. Now it’s my turn.”

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t… She didn’t… I won’t do it again, I swear.”

I raised my hand and fired the gun at the wall. The crack thundered across the dining room. The bullet ripped into the glass cabinet. Glass splintered and showered the dining room table I had laid night after night for twenty years. My favourite china set plummeted to the wooden floor  shattering and camouflaged itself in amongst the glass.

“Look what you made me do, Marty,” I said waving the gun at the remains of my dinner set, “that was my best fucking china.”

I stood up. My chest felt tight. Blood rang in my ears. I scanned the dining room with its matching curtains and furniture.

“You took the best years of my life, for what?” I peered at the collection of photo frames filled with nephews and nieces instead of my own children.

“A bunch of whores and prostitutes?”

I shook my head and swallowed the lump in my throat.

“I was going to give you a choice. But you know what I realised, Marty?”

His lips flopped open.

“Don’t fucking answer that… I’ll tell you what I realised. You don’t deserve a choice. This is my cross roads.”

I leant into his face, my nose millimetres from his.

“You stink like shit, Marty,” I said wrinkling my nose and trying not to breathe in his sweat.

“I want a divorce… and this…” I said pushing the muzzle of the gun deep into his crotch. He flinched, lip quivering. A wet patch spread across his trousers. I pushed my finger onto his lip, “shh,” the corners of my mouth curled into a toothy grin and I cocked the hammer.

“This is for the for the two decades of tears I shed each and every time you fucked another woman. This is so no one else will ever have to cry for you again.”

I fired.

***

So to last week. I loved last weeks writespiration, so I will endeavour to post it again albeit it with a different word, I think it produced some fascinating entries with wonderful insights into all your minds!

First in with a response to last weeks Writespiration was:

Rachel with this fab entry

There was an eerie silence lingering in the air. Everyone eyeballed each other wondering who was going to be the next to stand up and say something. They were all thinking. No one wanted to be the bearer of bad news and played “nose-goes” inside their heads willing someone else to say something.

***

Next Helen with a super eerie entry

Silence. It was all around him. Weighing heavy on his ears, on his time. Time that he scratched out, one by one on the damp bricks, the only indication that it passed the slivers of light through the barred window high above. No one came to see him. No one cared, it seemed, that he still lived.

***

The wonderful Michelle joins us this week and gave an emotional entry

Silence. A beautiful voice, his laughter are forever gone. Lost in silence are the sweet words. “hey, Mum, love you.” The silence is unfathomable. The silence tears at the heart.

***

Geoff gives his best TanGental entry this week :p

Silence is a long way from home, which is a hollow noduled bucket in Minneapolis and rather twee in a woebegone sort of way. Carriage bags have a habit of breaking silcne wit a rustle and a grimace. Shoping with silence is a chore and

***

Hugh follows Geoff with some equally tangential thinking – I just love where these are taking

If silence is golden then why am I not rich and living in outer space where it is silent. I love being silent like in the silent films which I don’t understand because they have no talking in them and are often in black and white and all fuzzy to watch. I wonder if they served popcorn in those days?

***

Jane gives this beautiful entry

Silence. The word sounds so loud when I think about it. Like when you put your head underwater. The sound of water. And the night air when everything else is quiet. Except the silence.

***

Sarah‘s written a cracking entry

Silence. Beeping, hacking, coughing, talking, yelling, beeping. Fleeting moments. Time is gone. Walls close in. Hoping. Waiting. For silence.

***

Foy joined in this week with a wonderful dialogue entry

“Would you shut up already?! I told you we’re not going to the zoo to harass the lions today.
That’s next week.”

***

The post Writespiration #44 appeared first on Sacha Black.

Now, to the winner of the worst possible sentence from last weeks writespiration, and boy did we have some cracking entries. And by cracking, I mean awful!

The winner of the most terrible opening line is………

Jane congratulations Jane, you wrote the most terrible opener, giving everything away and breaking all sorts of rules in the process! Fabulous entry:

‘It was terrible knowing that they were all going to die in a house fire, except for Jill who runs off to South America with the postman who apears in chapter sixteen, that Simon would fail his Oxford first year exams and end up working as a petrol pump attendant until he throws himself off a bridge in chapter twenty one, and that her operation would be a disaster and leave her housebound so when she drops her lighted cigarette onto the sheet she can’t even raise the alarm, but you have to live through the next four hundred pages, don’t you?’

Runner up goes to Keith for the most depressing adverb rich opener I’ve ever seen! Fantastic effort Keith

John wasn’t sure where he was going; walking solemnly and forlornly through the pea-souper fog, straining his weary eyes to make out the slightest detail murkily presenting itself to his age-worn visage; the laughter lines for which he was, until recently, famed giving way to worry-lines as he plodded relentlessly through the misty, dewy, heavy, moisture-laden air under a leaden sky that was constantly threatening to unload its heavy cargo, its payload, its bounty onto an unsuspecting world below, a world where hope had given way to despair, where happiness had been supplanted by depression, where gaiety had fallen prey to solemnity, a world whose very atmosphere, the elemental structure that is designed, intended, purposed to support and nurture life, is slowly, but surely, inexorably and remorselessly threatening to stifle it, to extinguish it, to render it extinct.

***

Helen Jones new to writespiration, gave a stonking effort with this terrible opener. If my wife had been choosing the winner, Helen would have won – it made Mrs. Black laugh out loud.

‘He had always liked penguins, and those shoes with the velcro fastening.’

***

Geoff was far too good but he does get an honourable mention for the two most disgustingly vile sentences:

‘And it’s confirmed: Nigel Farage will be the next Prime Minister.’

‘The only interesting about Tarquin was his toe-clipping collection which he had spent years cataloging: this is his story (with illustrations).’

***

 To this weeks Writespiration, remember, don’t look at the word till you are ready. Set your timer for 60 seconds don’t edit just write fast. Scroll down to see the word:

SILENCE

Here’s mine:

Why is silence so deafening? It ached in my ears, the pounding silence swallowed up any thoughts I had. It hurt. Hurt like the loss of my parents. No more voices to call me in at the end of the day. No mother to shout upstairs “dinners ready.” Just endless silence.

The post Writespiration #43 appeared first on Sacha Black.

How do you read? What happens to you?

Drifting off into another world when reading might be wonderful for the joy of the story. But it presents significant problem for me if I want to learn anything from the author.

When you read, are you reading as a reader or a writer? I always read as a reader. Allowing myself to be completely absorbed, to feel what the characters feel, smile at their wins and cry over their losses. But how do you stay consciousness enough to pick out the points you can learn from and still read like a reader?

There are the obvious things all readers like:

• Gritty multi-layered characters with hopes, dreams and faults.
• Characters being tested to their limits
• Pace – enough to keep you interested
• Story arc and a climax
• A statisfying ending
• Some kind of antagonist or bad guy
• An absorbing world

There are more, but you get my point. I don’t want to write a blog post telling anyone to suck eggs, or whatever the phrase it. These points are standard. It’s the more subtle things that I want to learn from. The nuances, the individual word choices in a sentence that give vivid imagery. Or the sentences that make me catch my breath and read faster, faster, faster because I just HAVE to know what happens. Or the actions a character takes that make me fall in love with them a little more.

There’s no magic to my method. I try to read a fraction slower than normal – hard if it’s a pacey book. I keep a pencil, highlighter or trusty index finger to hand depending on how I am reading. If on my kindle, then I use the highlighting function to highlight any I pick up. To ensure I keep buried in the book, I use my emotions as a flag system. If I smile, I check myself – why did I smile, a quick scramble back through the previous paragraph and hey presto, I just learnt a new trick. If I find myself scanning faster and faster, feeling desperate to just know, then I do the same. If I cry, if I feel anything, I stop and try and identify why.

Some of these might seem odd given you wont have any of the few hundred pages of context I had. But I thought it would be helpful to share some of the things I highlighted from the last book I read (End of Days):

1. ‘…can see the frustration stiffening the lines of his shoulders.’

Why did I highlight it? I guess because it painted wonderful images, in one sentence I knew exactly how he felt, and what it did to his body, I saw and felt the emotion.

2. ‘I put my hand over my mouth to keep from calling him.’

That’s the protagonist speaking, and a display of physical action showing her innocent love for the male lead. I thought it was so sweet an innocent and a beautifully honest depiction of what a teen might do to stop herself from calling out to the boy and admitting something she didn’t want to.

3. ‘The October wind tugs at my hair. Dry leaves float by, lost and abandoned.’

As I admitted in my post describing my writing process I’m still developing my ability to do description. This is a great example of weaving atmospheric description into the story – plus it gives away a piece of description about the protagonist too – which can be difficult when writing in the first person.

Some questions from me to you, I would love to know the answers to:

1. What do you naturally pick up on when you read your favourite stories?
2. Why are they your favourite, as a writer why do you appreciate them?
3. Do you collect and highlight pieces of text? If not, do you do something else to gather your favourite excerpts or ‘lessons’?

The post Read Like A Writer – Collect Words. Collect Sentences. appeared first on Sacha Black.