Writing: What Would You Do?

On January 1, I boldly announced I would publish a book of poems this year and here it is, the middle of August and I’m stymied.

I see my writer friends spontaneously publish and I think OMG, I’m such a loser.

I suppose I should congratulate myself, this month marks nine years of intensive psychotherapy, though when I watch a trump crowd, I wonder why I bother.

Psychodynamic psychotherapy is hard work.

Why is it crazy to think eight rather nice people live in my body when we have a crazy ass president like trump? But I digress.

This struggle to publish is the current topic of therapy.

How do I publish a collection of poems when I don’t recognize the work as mine.

Some the folks who follow this blog see the DID and others don’t.

I assume most people don’t see it.

One idea is to hire a psychotherapist/writer/editor.

In Friday’s session, my therapist suggested I give the alternates credit
for their work.

When I collaborated with Teagan on Hullaba lulu, I had to tell her which
alternate staged which scene.

Is it as simple as giving the alternates credit for their work?

What if I published the book as an anthology, as if the alternates are different writers?

I stopped letting them use their own names in 2013 because it encouraged fragmentation, but I’m healthier now.

I know it’s difficult for most people to understand DID, but what would you do?

Rob Goldstein 2019

When Good is Not Good Enough

What do you do when your best isn’t good enough?

MiddleMe

You received your graded paper, the paper that you worked all summer, only to get a D. You worked hard and overnight to rush through a project for a customer, only to have it rejected outright within minutes of submission. You walked into the office on Monday morning to be called into your boss’ office to get scream at for a project that you weren’t even in charge of.

What happens when your good is not good enough for others? Do you vent frustrations on yourself, on others? Do you push responsibility to others and not yourself? Do you blame yourself and wish you can die on the spot? 

It happened to me too! 

In fact, it can happen to anyone and everyone. Nobody is perfect to begin with and sometimes expectations are not align or there is misunderstanding in the communication or maybe you are just having a bad…

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Twittering Tales: The 10-Second Memoir

The 10-Second Memoir

Before Prozac, I once stormed the streets of this City like a mob with conviction, like a Godzilla in search of King Kong.

118 Characters

(c) Rob Goldstein 2019

This is an entry for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales #145 – 16 July, 2019

Twittering Tales Kat Myrman

 

Tranquil Cove #Writephoto

Grock this new story from D. Wallace Peach

Myths of the Mirror

photo by Sue Vincent

The beach parking lot was jammed with cars. Outside their blue rental, Samantha stretched her stiff limbs while Jeff rummaged in the back seat for snacks and towels. A tow truck clanked its chains and ground its gears in the midst of hauling away one of several abandoned vehicles, the windshields dusted with a week’s worth of windblown sand.

According to the glossy pamphlet, the rocky headlands and clustered islands sheltered turquoise waves, and the soft sand welcomed blankets and picnics. All inviting. But after days of battling crowds of tourists, the feature that most appealed to Sam was the promised solitude. Unfortunately, Tranquil Cove didn’t look like it would live up to its reputation.

She sighed and read the sign pounded into the sand at the lot’s edge. Someone had hand-scrawled a sloppy “g” on the otherwise formal warning.   “Beware of the grocks. No…

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