Category Archives: writing

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.

Brain, Where Are Your Now?

Here we are, on another Wrist to Forehead Sunday, and I have a bad case of type it in, backspace it out. It’s worse than Writer’s Block, not as bad as Writer’s Blank. One must count one’s blessings after all.

I feel my brain has been deserting me lately. Part of the problem is the changing weather. Sinus pain is kind of hard to think around. It’s too close to the brain. Hmmm, now I’m asking myself: can I really write better with back pain, stomach pain, foot pain, pains in the ass? Must do a study. First bit of information: not easy to write with sinus pain. I’ll make a note of that. Maybe start a new Pain Notebook and get all scientific about it.

Be that as it may, I need to type in something I can publish today. Incidentally, I’m not in sinus pain right now. However, I conquered the pain with a decongestant, which dopes me out. It’s kind of fascinating, this spacey, light-headed feeling. But not easy to write.

I did write a little bit today: I finished a letter and wrote two postcards. As you may guess, that did not involve a lot of words. And I’m not convinced they were particularly memorable words. Still, with personal mail, you can get away with that. You know the recipient will be happy just to get real mail. If it’s any good to read, that’s just gravy.

And now I see I am over 200 words. Phew! I can get back to my Sunday, which will involve the viewing of Halloween movies. Happy October, everyone!

My Interrupted Kiss

So there I was, on a break at work, writing on my novel. I’ve been having the darnedest time lately coming up with scenes to write. At last I just started something. As sometimes happens (and it’s GREAT when it does), I went on from there.

OF COURSE the Get Back to Work buzzer sounded just when it was starting to get good. Two characters were right in the middle of a kiss (no, it’s not a sex book; don’t get your hopes up) (you know who you are). I don’t write books about thinly disguised versions of myself and others, but I felt rather as if it was my lips that had been interrupted.

Naturally I went back to work, however ill-used I felt to be doing so. One must keep one’s job, after all (if anyone says, “Don’t quit your day job,” I’ll scream. I HATE that joke) (EEEEEEEE! I just knew somebody was going to). I suppose it’s just as well. I was not at all sure how I wanted that scene to progress.

On subsequent breaks I managed a few more sentences. Then a few more after work at the laundromat, where I am now, as I write this. As you may have guessed, the scene ceased to progress.

It raises the writerly question: if I had been able to continue instead of being interrupted the first time, would the scene have progressed differently? As I said, I was not sure how I wanted the scene to go, but if I had kept writing, maybe I would have figured it out. I guess we’ll never know.

Does it matter? Perhaps not. But I thought it might be something to write a blog post about on Wuss-out Wednesday.

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.

What Is This Thing You Call Subtance?

And what’s wrong with Wrist to Forehead Sunday anyways, I’d like to know. Why shouldn’t I spend one day distressing over the fact that I can’t write a post? Oh, I know. In the first place, I know that there are many days when I have a hard time writing a post, not just once a week. And I know that SOME bloggers are able to write posts of substance every time they choose to sit down at the keyboard (and I would be happy to be directed to any of those lucky bums’ websites) (I don’t imagine I would be able to follow their good example, but I would SO admire to see it).

I can’t say it is a really distressful day, actually. I woke up with a headache, which of course is never pleasant. However, I took my dog for a walk, did the dishes and made two salads. How’s that for productive? I’ve been re-reading an Agatha Christie murder mystery. That is pleasant and educational. You can learn a lot about plotting and hiding clues by re-reading the masters.

Have I done any writing this weekend? Um, that is kind of an awkward question. Have I had any Mohawk Valley adventures that I could write posts about in the upcoming week? Mmmmm… still awkward. Can I offer any justification to my continued use of oxygen on this planet? Ah, a half-baked philosophical question worthy of Lame Post Friday!

In fact, it seems I cling to my Wrist to Forehead Sunday even more than my Lame Post Friday. Is the angst of the end of the weekend more powerful than the exuberance of the beginning of same? More half-baked philosophy to consider.

However, I see than I am over 200 words. I shall return to enjoying the end of my weekend (really, I strive to savor every minute) (I get some enjoyment out of the week, too, never fear). I look forward to a delightful upcoming week when PERHAPS I will come up with more posts of this so-called substance.

I hope you are all enjoying your Sunday.

Bad Plan

I meant, I really truly MEANT to write something good while I was at work today. Instead I worked on my novel, although (full disclosure) what I wrote was not that good and does not seem likely to lead to anything better. And I talked to my husband on lunch (again, full disclosure).

Oh dear, I can hear the unkind hypothetical readers that live in my head tsk-tsking and shaking their superior fingers at me (isn’t that how you spell tsk-tsking? My computer seems to think it’s wrong). Real writers plan ahead, they are saying. Real writers come home and actually write a blog post, not string together silly words about why they did not. Real writers do not take a half hour to type the first two paragraphs because they are distracted by a Friends re-run.

In my defense, I’ve never seen this episode. I missed a lot the last season.

OK, the episode is over. Back to the hypothetical readers that haunt me. Do you suppose they have a point? Could I be a more successful blogger with a little more planning? Yet, I just heard a quote that seems apropos: If you want to make God laugh, make plans. After all, yesterday I planned to write a better blog post today.

Those hypothetical readers are now arguing that unforeseen circumstances did not keep me from fulfilling my plans. I just didn’t do what I had planned to do. Well, so it still didn’t do me any good to make plans, did it, hypothetical readers? They do not feel I have refuted their argument.

Well, I can’t sit here all night arguing on the computer with hypothetical readers. And I fear my actual readers (if any) will not feel like sitting here reading it. I’m going to go make some plans about my post for Tired Tuesday.

Writing About Something Else

It seems this blog is degenerating into a post about running, a post about not being able to write a post. Sometimes two or three posts about not being able to write a post, sometimes a post about walking my dog thrown in. Do I even have Mohawk Valley adventures any more?

Sometimes I do. Sometimes I write about them. Sometimes I feel unable to do so (have adventures or write about them). Sometimes I go for long periods of time without having blogworthy adventures. Then I write about something else.

Today, for the record, is Wuss-out Wednesday. I had, in fact, an authentic Mohawk Valley adventure this afternoon. My husband, dog and I went for a walk on the Herkimer County Community College Nature Trail. I definitely plan to write about that. What, right now? I’m tired! It’s Wuss-out Wednesday! What do you people want from me?

The operative thing to do, I think, is to become more organized, plan ahead what I am going to do and write about, perhaps schedule actual writing time. Stop flying by the seat of my pants (that’s an odd expression. How does one actually fly by the seat of one’s pants? Can somebody draw me a picture of that?).

Hmmm…. sounds like a good plan (the organization, not the seat of the pants thing), but can I do it? It is quite different from my usual way of doing things. Would it not, for example, entail an entire change of character? These sound like questions of half-baked philosophy, suitable for Lame Post Friday. I hope to find better things to write about between now and then.

No Longer a Blank Screen

I just now said to myself, “You know you’re going to write something. You always write something. So just sit down and write something.”

Although nothing much is coming out. It is a definite Monday Malaise (I wonder if I have used that as a title yet). My body is tired and my brain feels dead. In fact, I did use it today. Not much, but some. I came up with a couple rather killer ideas for my novel. No, I don’t mean ideas about who the killer is. I know who the killer is. Or do I? Hmmmmm….

I didn’t do much with the ideas except jot them down in the little notebook I keep in my BDU pants pocket when I’m at work. The notebook is really to jot down work things, but it’s good for all kinds of purposes. I wonder if I could manage to write a few actual paragraphs of novel before the evening is done.

The other thing I did was edit and email out two articles to Mohawk Valley Living, my new favorite magazine. That is rather nerve-wracking. I keep thinking my writing ought to be better. Oh well, I suppose one can work on these things.

And then I said to myself, “Oh yeah, I have to do my blog post!” What a thing to forget! I sat right down and stared at the blank screen. What a terrible sight.

Oh, but look, it isn’t blank any longer! It’s a blog post! Maybe not a good blog post, but why make judgement calls on a Monday? For yet another day I can call myself a blogger (although in general I do not; I say, rather, that I write a blog) (I live for these semantic subtleties). I look forward to seeing what I come up with for tomorrow.

No More Deleting!

This is dreadful. I keep typing in a sentence or two then deleting it. I have done this before and it is always distressing. In the meantime, the clock is ticking and I have other things I would like to be doing. Astute readers will by now have concluded that today is Wuss-out Wednesday.

I actually did write some stuff today. I wrote a good portion of a blog post about a Mohawk Valley adventure. I was not displeased with it, but I must look up a few things and write some more on it. I wrote a little more than a page on my novel. The progress on my novel was something of a coup, because I thought of a new plot development and started writing a scene to implement the addition.

Sometimes when you write something it just helps you write more. Other times you write and write and then you are done. You cannot write any more. When you try, for example, to write a blog post after that point, you type in a few sentences and immediately delete them.

And then you steel yourself and begin typing SOMETHING which you do not allow yourself to delete.

And this is the result. I shall try again on Thursday.

I Hope Your Sunday is Good, Too

I did mention yesterday that this would be Wrist to Forehead Sunday, didn’t I? In fact, I ran this morning and had the vague idea in my head that I would do a Sunday Running Commentary. I may yet write about that run, but, um, not today.

I went adventuring with some family members later in the day. We went to the antique shops in Little Falls, an excellent topic for me to write about. I hope to write that post later in the week.

In between the run and the adventure (doesn’t “adventure” sound better than “shopping trip”?) I cleaned the house. I achieved more of a fast tidy than in-depth cleanliness, but I could have come up with a post about it. Would the post have been less lame than my usual Wrist to Forehead Sunday? Perhaps I will write it later in the week and we can judge.

Now I am home with my husband and my dog, watching old movies. Nothing particularly cheesy thus far. I have written about non-cheesy movies on occasion. I will no doubt do so again. But not today.

In short, this is what I’m publishing today. A kind of a This Has Been My Day/Preview of Coming Attractions. I hope my readers are having an enjoyable Sunday.