Intentional Fearlessness

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As a writer I love to write fiction, and read it as well; my imagination soars when I begin typing. The best part of creating a story is making the characters realistic. I’m not so concerned with what’s in a room, but more of WHY a person is in the room. My technique of realism focuses on character-driven fiction, crafting a page turning story with a clear beginning, middle, and end.  I draw on life’s coloring book of dreams, goals, conflicts, and challenges, leading to a resolution the reader can identify with and appreciate given the characters’ story. Note:  I don’t believe in flat, happy-ever-after-endings. I do; however, trust endings bringing the characters full circle grasping and solving their dilemmas.

Watching British Television Dramas has been a pivotal classroom sparking my creativity. I believe the writing is intentional fearlessness. The storylines are three-dimensional plots giving the viewer a rollercoaster ride ending far too soon. My aspiration and personal goal is do the same with my own novels. I feel this is the same with the writers I’ve been networking with. Yeah, it’s the sales that count, but the story is the bigger fish.
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Finish Line

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Words flowed from my imagination onto my laptop. I stayed in the Zone all day. I hammered out scene after scene on my novel from early morning until the street lights came on. I smiled because not once had I peeked at the Internet. I’ve labeled it as my Curiosity-Addiction—an obsession with today’s politics, a devourer of my time, my sleep, and consumer of conversations.

The deadline I’ve set for myself to finish my novel, The Last Merry Go Round, has come and gone at least two times. It’d be pointless blaming the Internet when my finger has a mind of its own, connecting me in warp speed. I’ve confessed to friends I’ve spent hours reading about what’s going on in Washington and around the world. After which, my fried brain has become too exhausted to generate anything worth writing. Needless to say, I’ve been angry at myself because of the time wasted time when I could’ve been writing. Continue reading →

The Rabbit Hole

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I believe solitude reflection has given me freedom to define my next steps as a writer. As I edge for a seat rejoining the poetic authors—I will pace myself and eat from the smorgasbord only what I absolutely need.Trying to reconstruct one’s life over a period of time sometimes proves difficult—not always because you can’t remember—but maybe the memory of past events makes you reflect—and you just shut down.

It’s been over a year since my last blog post. I’ve thought about it many times. Honestly, I didn’t have the energy, time, or thought process to write anything. Social Media, to me, is one big smorgasbord. Some feast hourly, daily, and weekly piling on plates full of opinions, ideas, and endless advice. The internet is packed like a rock concert—full of poetic authors requiring no reservations, just a commitment to come and join them. Continue reading →

Why did I write a romantic fiction story . . .

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Why do I write? This is a question all writers at one time or another are asked and have asked themselves. My answer is not complex or earth shaking. I’ve always come back to the same answer, played over and over in my head like one of those jingles you can’t shake. I write because it makes me happy—a simple answer for a complex journey.Why do I write romantic fiction?

As I’ve said before, I’ve been a closet writer for years, with a number of half-written stories stored away in boxes, always jotting down ideas on what happens next, or for new stories I’d like to write some day. Completing The Ears That Have Eyes was hard work, but I finally did it.  That makes me happy. So far the reviews have been good, too, and that makes me very happy! Continue reading →

Welcome to C.L.’s Blog

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Welcome to my personal journal

The Ears That Have Eyes by CL Charlesworth.

How do I start? I guess, first, to say welcome to my world full of nooks and crannies, full of treasures, adventures, and secrets.

As a writer, I use my imagination to paint vivid imagery that’s page-turning fiction. My natural gift of storytelling was opened years before I thought about being a writer. It started in my hometown, Youngstown, Ohio. My father, a steel mill worker, had certain television shows he loved. Aside from our many family road trips — TV was Dad’s escape from a dangerous job that eventually killed him at age 52 after he contracted black lung disease. When his work schedule interrupted, Dad asked me to watch his favorite programs and tell him what he missed. I was finishing elementary school, when I perfected the on-the-spot-jaw-dropping- storytelling. I amazed myself at how I could hold Dad’s attention as if those television characters were our neighbors. Continue reading →