Category Archives: Middle-aged Musings Monday

At Last! Writer’s Block!

I think I am finally experiencing Writer’s Block. I know, I know, many people believe it does not exist. Some people don’t believe in Santa Claus either; I refuse to debate some things. Normally I suffer from Writer’s Blank. I look at the page and it remains blank because that is my state of mind. Sometimes I suffer from Write It Down And Cross It Out (or Type It In And Backspace Over It, as the case may be). This, however, I can only describe as Writer’s Block.

I have a post that I wrote last week but did not finish. I thought I would type in what I had and finish it for today’s post. Then I looked at the lead and saw that it mentioned my Christmas vacation. Did that make it dated? Should I change the lead? Go with something entirely different or just change the wording a little to indicate that the post is about an adventure I had last month?

These are not difficult questions. All I had to do was pick an option and start typing. I could even put off the decision, type in what I had, and change it later. But somewhere in the back of my mind there lurked another lead. A good lead, one that made the post… different. Better. But the words would not come forward.

Well why does that matter? I argued with myself. Just type in anything, I said. You’ll find the words you want. If not right away, you can save the draft and finish it later or tomorrow. Just BEGIN!

And I could not.

I felt literally paralyzed (this is not a misuse of the word “literally,” I really FELT AS IF I was literally paralyzed. I did not say I WAS literally paralyzed) (so don’t get didactic on me). I had a couple of other ideas for blog posts I could have gone with. I thought, just write one of those for now. I put my fingers on the keyboard. Nothing happened. I couldn’t write ANYTHING!

Except, it seems, this. We’ll call it a Middle-aged Musings Monday and hit publish. Hope to see you on Tuesday.

More Writing About Not Writing

Well, it is not yet Tired Tuesday it is no longer Wrist to Forehead Sunday, yet I feel I qualify for both of those days. The annoying thing is that I did so write while at work today. I wrote at least a page before my shift started then a few paragraphs more at lunch time. I felt it was not contemptible. And yet. And yet.

What I really feel moved to write right now is an explanation of why I am not publishing what I wrote earlier yet. We’ll call it a Middle-aged Musings Monday and that will make everything OK (I do like giving things names) (I’ll write a blog post abut that one day).

After writing about Steven’s first Christmas gift to me (yesterday’s post), I thought it might be fun to do a week of Christmas memories. By age 51, I have quite a few. I have even been thinking about one particular Christmas lately. The reason I have been thinking about it is that I was broke then and I am broke now. I quite naturally began my post with that thought.

After a sentence or three I thought, “Somebody is going to tell me to stop whining.” You can’t tell tone of voice from typing. I felt I was being matter-of-fact about things, but no doubt some readers would hear whining. I wrote a few more sentences trying to dispel any notion that I am not facing my circumstances with cheerfulness, fortitude and a sense of humor (I’m not, really, I daresay I do whine, but wouldn’t it be nice if I did have cheeriness, etc.?).

Then I started to ask myself, am I even that broke? After all, I still have cable television and the occasional bottle of wine. I haven’t started stealing the dog’s food nor even applied for SNAP benefits. These reflections led to some half-baked philosophy about people crying poverty when the rest of us see none. This was not a Christmas memory! What the hell, Mohawk Valley Girl? So I skipped a line and jumped into the story I had intended to write, trusting to be able to clean it up later.

By the end of the day, I felt dissatisfied with what I had written. I felt certain there was a better blog post about that Christmas. And perhaps a Lame Post Friday post about comparative poverty or cheerfulness and fortitude. After work as I walked my dog, Tabby, I pondered my options, bearing in mind that I have rehearsal tonight and I was feeling more and more tired. I thought about writing about the walk I was taking. Then I thought about writing about why I could not publish the post originally intended.

And reading back over what I have written (I know, Truman Capote, it isn’t writing, it’s typing), I kind of like it. I will strive to be a little less tired on Tuesday.

What’s This All About?

So there I was, on wordpress.com trying to write a blog post. And it was not going well. So I left WordPress and went to Facebook, an ever-present help in times of trouble. I went to the Facebook page of the place I was trying to write about. From there I clicked onto their website and read some more about them, made a couple of notes, clicked back to Facebook, checked my notifications (only one), read down a few new statuses, kept scrolling, said oh yeah, blog post.

I came back to wordpress.com and clicked on an icon I had not clicked on before. Now, it seems, I am using the new editor. Will it make it any easier to write a post? So far I must say, I am not a fan. For one reason, there is no word count at the bottom. How can I know when I have met my self-imposed minimum of 200 words without a word count? You needn’t think I’m going to count them myself. I rarely do the math.

And what about the post I abandoned earlier? Don’t worry, I saved it. I intend to finish it, but I don’t imagine I will be able to do so today. It’s not Tired Tuesday yet, but I sure am tired. I’m hoping this nonsense will count as a Middle-aged Musings Monday.

I feel I should perhaps add that this is not the only writing I have done today. Earlier this evening I worked on an article I intend to submit to Mohawk Valley Living, my favorite magazine. And when I first got to wordpress.com I added to some comments I had made to another blogger, Return of the Modern Philosopher. So I’m afraid I used up the words that were in me today on frivolous things other than this blog. I hope nobody feels dissed.

Don’t Quit My WHAT?

Yesterday I made an almost superhuman effort to make a post that was not a Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Oh dear, I can hear the critics sniffing that if that was the result of superhuman effort, I shouldn’t quit my day job. I hate that joke about don’t quit your day job. It is so overused and almost never appropriate.

Ooh, I see myself going off on a tangent that just might pass as a Monday Middle-aged Musing. Don’t quit your day job. I HAAAATE that joke! (Yes, I just said that in the preceding paragraph; it bears repeating.) If you sing a little snatch of song, somebody is bound to say it. Did I say I was auditioning for American Idol? NO! Did I even imply I thought my voice was any good? NO! You just want to be mean by pointing out the obvious fact that I am not Gloria Gaynor.

The last time a fellow at work said it to me, I said, “Don’t quit yours to become a stand-up comedian!”
It was not the devastating comeback it had seemed in my head.

Another time the line was said to me was in an employment office. I was desperate to leave my retail job for one with more human hours. The big jerk supposedly trying to help me kept saying, “Don’t quit your day job.” It wasn’t a day job, for heavens sake! I wanted to find a day job! That’s what I was hoping this yahoo would help me with!

Just listen to me, shouting at a memory. For heavens’ sake, I have a day job now. Get over yourself, Cindy!

OK, I’m better now.

And as I get over my little tantrum, I admit that currently nobody is actually advising me not to quit my day job (Shut up! You don’t need to!) (You know who you are). That was a hypothetical critic who, truth be know, lives primarily in my head. Which, incidentally, has a headache again today. That is why I am typing in this nonsense instead of writing a good blog post.

Hope to see you all on Tuesday, which I hope will NOT be Tired Tuesday.

Middle-aged Musings on Age

How fortunate that I have back pain today. Yesterday (and the day before) I blamed my difficulty writing on my sinus headache. It led me to wonder if other kinds of pain were better or worse to write under. Who knew I would get a chance to find out so soon?

Well, I guess I knew I’d get a chance. Middle-age has been hitting me with both barrels lately. You know that expression, “Live fast, die young and make a good-looking corpse.” I apparently did not live fast enough to die young, yet not slow enough to age gracefully. Then again, when have I ever done anything gracefully? (For those of you not well-acquainted with me, the answer is almost never.)

Before you all conclude that I am an unmitigated kvetch, I’d like to just say I am laughing at myself. I don’t mind being 50. I think it’s kind of fun. I like my grey hair. I’m hoping to experience some of them there hot flashes this winter when my place of employment gets really cold. I can’t say I’m nuts about the extreme difficulty in losing weight, but you can’t have everything.

Earlier today I said to a co-worker, “Getting old ain’t for sissies. I like saying that. It makes me feel bad-ass for having back pain.”

So here is my Monday Middle-aged Musing for the week: yes, I can write a blog post with back pain.

Fool for Thought

Wrist to Forehead Sunday morphs painfully into Middle-aged Musings Monday. Well, I’m still middle-aged, but I don’t have any musings. Instead I have a bad case of “I Can’t Write About THAT!” It is paralyzing.

Ah, but perhaps I could go on for a paragraph or two about the feeling that one “can’t” write about something.

Some writers feel you should be able to write about anything at any time. We won’t deal with those annoying overachievers (and they are mostly “do as I say, not as I do” anyways). However, there is also the school of thought that the things you find scary to write about are the very things you ought to be writing about. That is where your passion and your energies lie.

Perhaps it is so. Perhaps if I wrote about my innermost thoughts and feelings I would come up with something really powerful and moving. Or I might just sound like a fool. Oh wait, I do that anyways (some of you were about to say that, if you didn’t actually beat me to it)(you know who you are).

Another school of thought says you must wait until you are ready to write about some things. Ernest Hemingway deals with this school of thought in A Moveable Feast. Only I can’t remember quite how he puts it and I’ve lost my copy of the book (yes, here’s the part where I sound like a fool). Something to the effect that he can write about this other place when he is in Paris and later on he will be able to write about Paris (yes, I did sound like a fool. Damn).

I’m afraid my reasons for not wanting to write about the things I’m not writing about today are not so writerly (I’m sure that is a word, although my computer says not). I don’t want to write about the things I mentioned earlier because, well, quite frankly, I’m afraid they would be boring. Or tiresome. Or stupid.

Oh dear, I hope what I did write was not boring, tiresome or stupid. It was foolish, you say? Oh well, I guess I can live with that.

Confessions of a Bad Blogger

I blew through a red light this morning. It was a really boneheaded thing to do. I was looking ahead at the next light, thinking how I would be hitting that one red, and I completely forgot about the one I was approaching. I saw that it was red as I reached it. I could perhaps have slammed on my breaks at that point, making an unpleasant squealing noise with my tires and causing my bags to tumble off the seat. I did not react quickly enough. I just breezed through, much to the disgust, I am sure, of the motorists waiting sedately and legally to proceed in the opposite direction.

My question now is: Is this worthy of a blog post? And if I deem it unworthy, is that merely because of my reluctance to broadcast that I am an even worse driver than I am a blogger (after all, I have never done anything illegal in my blog)? Next I begin to wonder if this is half-baked philosophy more fit for Lame Post Friday or is it a legitimate Monday Middle-aged Musing?

Welcome to my life.

I bet my readers are now divided into two distinct groups. One group is saying, “Hey! I thought she was going to write about the DARE 5K!” The other group is saying, “Well, at least she isn’t still writing about that DARE 5K.” Still another group has by now stopped reading. We need not concern ourselves with that group.

Full disclosure: My husband Steven suggested that headline for an entirely different post. I did not use it then, but I thought it was too good to waste.

Am I a Bad Blogger?

I am beginning to wonder about my future as a blogger. Astute readers will have noticed that each day I have a potential excuse for not doing a real post: Middle-aged Musings Monday, Tired Tuesday, Wuss-out Wednesday, Non-Sequitur Thursday, Lame Post Friday, and Wrist to Forehead Sunday (yes, my week begins on Monday. Doesn’t yours?).

Ooh, look at that, I left out Saturday. I enjoy to do Running Commentary Saturday, but I consider Running Commentary to be a real post. In fact, it takes a good deal of effort, because for Running Commentary I do, in fact, run. But we all know I do not scruple to do a foolish post on a Saturday. It just doesn’t have a name.

When I first started Middle-aged Musings Monday, I actually did write a post most of the time. By “write a post” I mean I hand wrote a rough draft, usually while on a break at work, which I later typed into the computer, often with some amount of editing. However, as time goes on, I often find myself blogging off the cuff, sitting at the computer, typing off the top of my head and hoping for the best.

Sometimes it works out pretty good. I write something fairly amusing, fellow bloggers reward me by hitting the “Like” button, and we all drive on. Sometimes I sit here and say, “Oh dear, what in the world am I going to put?”

Guess which type of day today is.

In any case, I usually end by craving your indulgence and hoping to do better in the future, sometimes citing actual posts I hope to write. In fact, today I began a rather fun post about a cheesy movie I saw and I do still intend to write about a couple of Mohawk Valley adventures I had.

I guess my musing for today is to ask myself, is this an OK way to run a blog? And I guess my answer is, it’ll have do do for now, because this is all i got.

Hope to see you all on Tired Tuesday.

It’s A Crime

I did not write a blog post while at work today. I spent my time before my shift and on each break reading a true crime book by Ann Rule. She is the BEST! I love true crime. I guess the best I can do for this week’s Middle-aged Musings Monday is a couple of paragraphs about my crime obsession.

It seems to me that many people love murder. Murder mystery novels crowd library shelves. Many movies feature murder, mysterious or otherwise. And on television… it’s everywhere! Truth, fiction, police, amateurs, hit men and even the undead, although many would argue that they don’t count. I am not alone in my obsession.

I do enjoy a good fictional mystery, on the page or on the screen, but lately I am really addicted to the true stuff. I have written about this before, how I watch many shows of varying degrees of cheesiness. I only wish I had seen a good one lately, so I could write about that.

The novel I am having so much trouble writing (and I KNOW I have written about that here) is a murder mystery. Perhaps one of the reasons I am having so much trouble with it is that I am not spending enough thought on the actual crime. Silly me, I keep thinking about the characters. Well, I will have to work that out for myself.

Well, that is over 200 words. I am having a plethora of not very good posts lately and for that I apologize. Tomorrow I plan to go running early in the morning. I hope and trust that will offer enough interest for a decent Running Commentary. If not, I believe there is a library book sale I can attend. Ooh, maybe I’ll find another Ann Rule book.

Musings at the End of the Month

It is the last day of June. I seem to remember making a blog post where I said June was going to be All About My Novel and perhaps I would have a Julyathon concerning physical fitness. I should have known that July would sneak up on me. These things always do.

I must admit, to begin with, that June was not exactly All About the Novel. Some days I did not work on it at all. Some days I only managed a little tiny bit. I tried not to get discouraged or down on myself. That is always a danger. For example, I could say, “Oh to hell with it, I missed yesterday and I didn’t do very much today. I might as well give up!” Or I could go the drill sergeant route: “I’m a miserable moron who can’t write a word! A lazy, lollygagging bum! I’ve got to get to work NOW!” (Actually, I usually talk to myself in the second person “YOU’RE a lazy bum!” But I was afraid of being unclear.)

However, I did manage to keep making some sort of progress. Now the month is over and where do I find myself? Um, on the couch, composing my blog post as I type it into the computer (it’s actually a netbook or some such thing) (it was given to me by a generous sister). My novel has not progressed by leaps and bounds, and tomorrow should be the beginning of my Julyathon.

Hmmm… I wrote the title of this post before writing the post, and I don’t know that it really fits. Oh dear, that is OK on Non-Sequitur Thursday but is less than ideal for Middle-aged Musings Monday. What’s a blogger to do?