This beautiful coat of arms, bearing my husband’s last name, came to me in a dream last week. I was stunned when I saw this today at a Celtic fair. It made me realize what a sense of humor that the universe has, and how things magically manifest in my life repeatedly.

It got me wondering – why did I start a blog entitled Writer’s Block? Would this ever become a problem for me?

To some degree, yes. I do struggle with writer’s block sometimes. It has been quite a problem lately, but I ascribe this to the insane amount of time and energy it takes to move 2,500 miles and start a new job.

As I drifted off to dreamland last night, I told the universe that having a blog with the title writer’s block means a block of wood or a block of paper. Or maybe a block party.

So I’m hoping that my subconscious heard the little white lie and accepted the new framework. It’s a block party for writers, okay? Okay.

Maybe I need a new title. “A Million Bucks for Every Author.” Or: “Perfect Health and Peace for Writers.”  Let’s manifest something great!

Keep writing and keep sharing! – Cronin Detzz



Burn It Down
I am drinking, drinking
from the Well of Creativity
I am sinking, sinking
back to my own nativity

I am reading, reading
to ignite the spark of my fuse
I am pleading, pleading
so blind is my mute Muse

I am fighting,  fighting
for every minute of Death’s Clock
I am writing, writing
burning down the Writer’s Block
– Cronin Detzz
# writers #block


Stay ahead of the pain
Trip and fall, get up again
Umbrella strains against aches that cascade like rain
Steel your will
Swallow the pill

Epsom salts and prayers to a saint
Foggy brain but fake it til I faint
Sleep half a day
Get up again and pray
Was there ever a time when I didn’t feel this way?

Demon daggers pierce my gut
A deeply grooved path, stuck in a rut
Averse to complaints, I silently whine
I curse the day I stepped into this body of mine
Don the mask that  says, “I’m fine”

Go on, girl, it’s just a test
Faith in yourself, and water and rest
How can I explain to you how much I ache
My head, my feet, my heart daily break
What are the spoils this victor might take?

I don’t know, but I weave hope into my voice
Fibroic enemy resides deep inside
And anyway, I really have no choice
– Cronin Detzz