My Cardboard Balcony

Unfortunately, it's been another rough week. While there is some good news with my loan deferment and my class going smoothly, this week has been Anxiety Week all around. From climate change to Ebola in the United States, my brain has latched onto anything it can to render me unable to function as a normal human being during multiple moments of the day. It also doesn't help that I have a massive insect bite of some kind (wasp sting? Spider bite?) and then, after icing it, gave myself some kind of welts or something. Hives from the cold? I dunno. They're fading as I type this, but let's just say I get an A++ for taking care of myself so darn well. The good news is, I believe I'm finally pulling myself out of the anxiety slump and back into writing mode. This afternoon, right before work, I went on a writing spree and began Chapter Two of my new novel. While of course, I wish I could've gotten a lot more done, I know I'll probably do some writing possi...

NOTE: This is the third full-act play I ever wrote, at the age of nineteen. While I cannot specifically remember when it was finished, I am going to hazard a guess that I was done with this play and beginning to write my fourth play by the spring of 2009. It's a risky guess, but it'll have to do. This is Act II of the play. Enjoy. Be Still, Little Lotus Eater (A Play In Two Acts) by Belinda Roddie CAST (in order of appearance) MUSICIAN MUSE SILVERS GRIMM JENCI FAIGEL AYLIN JAREK SETTING An Uncharted Island WRITER’S NOTE: All stage directions and emotions listed in this script are open for suggestion. Altering them should not decrease the caliber of the play, but they should serve as guidelines for the director and the actors. Remember, nothing is set in stone. Act Two Starry Night (The act opens in complete darkness, with night sounds) GRIMM. Silvers? …Silvers. Silvers, wake up. SILVERS. Huh? What’s going on? Is something wron...

They told me that my ambitions were far too lofty, and I believed them. I dropped my dreams like hot coals against my feet, and I packed one bag and traveled down abandoned railroads for a good portion of my life. How much schooling, intelligence, and hope had I wasted by believing in those who didn't believe in me? It was a fruitless exchange, and the world was paying the price for it.