WTT: Pens

Welcome to the first installment of Writing Tip Tuesday, where I drop random hints, tricks and tips to help you on your writing path.

Tip 1: People often say to bring a notebook with you wherever you go. That’s good advice, but I think the better advice is to bring a pen wherever you go. If you come up with an idea, you can always write on a napkin, a scrap piece of paper, or even your hand. It doesn’t really help if you have a notebook and no pen, though. ;P

Do you have any writing tips you’d like to share? Let me know!

Revamp

If you haven’t noticed, I’m revamping things around here. Gonna be lots of changes. I’ve come up with some rad ideas to get my name and writing out to the public this spring/summer and part of it involves redoing my website.

So expect lots of new things!

DID YOU SEE I FINALLY SET UP A FACEBOOK PAGE!? .—->

Besides that, I’m working on a short story collection. Part of my bigger plan is to self-publish the collection. But I can’t divulge too many of my secrets.

More later. …I’m so excited and motivated, it’s ridiculous.

Published

Hey, check out my fiction piece, ” Then There Was That Time with The Elephant,” recently published in Drunk Monkeys magazine.

http://www.drunkmonkeys.us/fiction/2015/3/11/then-there-was-that-time-with-the-elephant-by-jcd-kerwin

Untitled

It came to me in a rush.
It’s probably not even good.

[Untitled]
JCD Kerwin

I’ll stab this pen
a thousand times,
to make my stories
run red with blood.
My heart will look
like a tattered valentine,
but the moon will shine
through its holes
like a billion stars,
ready to dance,
in time,
with your heartbeats.

March, 2015

B-Side the Fire

Er, it was a dark day. O_O…

Also, ten billion points to whoever can guess where I got the title of the poem from! I’ll give you a hint, my favorite band is U2. :O

B-Side the Fire
J.C.D. Kerwin

I set the same song on reply.
I glue the button down
with blood and spit and tears
to make the track rerun because
right now (since how long, I can’t recall)
it’s been the only thing keeping me from
falling into vomit I am puking from my heart.
There are no words, just
the same acoustic refrain
as if it sends me far away
from whatever this
is supposed to be.
(“Reality,” they tell me.)

At least in my head,
I can’t get hurt and
I don’t wear a frown
quite as hard
as the PF Flyers
I’ve worn holes in.
I keep running but
I don’t know which way
to chase a daydream.
It’s like trying to catch the moon
at dawn.
I’m told we’re all
a little crazy,
a little sad,
a little weird and a little mad
sometimes.
But all I really am is desperate.
I just want to crack
these goddamn headphones in half
and climb inside the music notes
to find the Neverland I dream about
every time I close my eyes;
to see the faces that aren’t real
to everyone else but me.

I’d like to suck a couple drops
of caffeine nicotine and see
if an imaginary friend will come
skipping out to talk with me.
Perhaps he’ll reflect computer screens
and we’ll recite binary while
people think I’m drunk, but won’t
it be fun when I’m finally gone and free?
Oh how I wish this cord
led to a 4-D world instead of a little red
music box player that made me wonder
of perfectly imperfect impossibilities.

(January 2015)