Category Archives: writing

From the Spiral Notebook

In future years if anybody looks at this notebook, they may be confused (um, that is the spiral notebook I was handwriting in this morning; I’m typing this into a computer now)(that sort of thing makes me feel so time-warpy)(where was I?) How egotistical is that, thinking posterity might utilize my notebook for history (as if they could read my handwriting).

What’s going on is I’m having a waste-not-want-not moment. I found a blank back of a page in the notebook I’m currently using and thought to write my blog post here. This is a notebook I had been using in 2012-2013, when I was secretary for Ilion Little Theatre. Boring minutes in messy handwriting. Seriously, none of my notes convey the drama of backstage community theatre. I’m sure any theatre-minded readers will understand. I need say no more, and, indeed, in would be inappropriate for me to do so. What happens at the board meeting stays at the board meeting.

OK, so that’s about all I have for today: a page to write on and a story about where the paper is located. Nothing in particular to write on it. Regular readers know this sort of thing happens to me at least once a week. Sometimes more.

Oh, I know, you’re all thinking of “That Damn Book,” a rather ridiculous essay I posted a mere two days ago. I actually had stuff to write about that day. I just couldn’t write any of it with that compelling book so close at hand. Today I have sensibly left the book at home. Along with, apparently, the better part of my brain.

That is all that I wrote this morning before beginning work. Then I thought, how appropriate for Non-Sequitur Thursday: using notebook pages out of order. Will I find something as good for Lame Post Friday? As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Words Before Wine

I’m not having a particularly wrist-to-forehead Sunday, although I did have kind of a wrist-to-forehead run earlier. However, I am having a kind of a wrist-to-forehead moment right now. You see, I must pick Steven up from work for a Wine Tasting Event in about twenty minutes (it became 19 as I typed that). It would be a good idea to make my blog post now.

I CAN’T TAKE THAT KIND OF PRESSURE!!!

What a silly thing to say; of course I can. For one thing, the pressure is purely self-imposed. I can remove it at any time. For another thing, when it comes to writing, I thrive on pressure! I never wrote a paper in school one minute before I had to. Then I stayed up late, scribbling frantically. And the best essays I ever wrote in my life were on exams, writing against the clock, once with a screaming headache due to strep throat.

Ah, those were the days.

On reflection, I must admit that I have no idea if those essays were the best I had ever written or not, because I no longer have access to them and I certainly don’t remember what I wrote (although I did ace the exams in question). Regarding the paper, not having a basis for comparison, we can’t be sure the papers would not have been better with more time taken.

This is not the post I sat down to write. I had meant to write about how I did almost everything on my to-do list. Except write this blog post. Wait a minute, maybe it is exactly the post I sat down to write. Ah, deadlines.

At any rate, I am over 250 words. I’m going to go taste some wine.

But I’m Not Supposed to be Tired till Tuesday!

OK, so I just sat here looking at a list I wrote last week of potential blog posts I could write, and yet not writing any of them. I did not write a blog post while at work. I started to write something, then worked on a letter to my sister. As I continued to work, I thought, “This is no problem. I’ll go home, run, then write about my run.”

Oh, I am too tired to run. I am too tired to write. What’s that all about? I can’t do a Tired Tuesday post on a Monday! Monday is for Middle-aged Musings! Dammit! I can’t even stick to my own schedule which is, as you may have noticed, not particularly onerous.

I just sat here looking at the word “onerous” and thinking it did not look right. It looked like it should be pronounced “won-russ”, like the number 1 with rous. Or “wondrous” without the d. My computer did not underline it in red (like it is doing with “won-russ” and “rous”), but I looked it up in the dictionary anyways (I had to pause to remember if O came before or after P). It’s right.

My new plan is to take my precious list downstairs with me and write down why I could not write these potential blog posts tonight. The reasons involve foolishness like I don’t feel like looking up the links I would like to include or I left my notes in my work bag (said bag is on the kitchen floor, it’s not in the Antipodes after all) (I did mention I was tired, didn’t I?) (Incidentally, I believe that is the first time I have ever used the word “Antipodes” in a sentence).

Where was I? Ah yes, nowhere but working on getting somewhere for tomorrow’s blog post. At least I amused myself with today’s silliness. I can only hope others were entertained.

For Your Approval

We interrupt posts about Cindy and Tracy’s Saturday adventures to bring you our regularly scheduled Wuss-out Wednesday. Oh come now, you did not think I was going to make it a whole week without a ridiculous post, did you? Well, sorry, folks. Personally, I thought I would make it at least until Thursday (Non-Sequitur Thursday, that is) if not Friday (Lame Post Friday, of course). But, alas, it is not to be.

I opened my notebook and thought about writing my post while at work today (actually not on a break, but before my shift began). Then I thought I would like to consult some notes I made in a different notebook. And I thought I had picked up at least one flier that might be helpful. So I waited till I got home.

First I had to take my dog for a walk. And start supper (peppers, onions and sausage)(yum). And then I tried, I really tried. Only I had to research a couple of things online. And, oh, I want to find out more about that one. And I am getting more and more tired. And I have to check the sizzling peppers. And I haven’t showered yet. And Steven is due home any minute now.

So you see.

Too late I realize I could have written a short but acceptable post about a stop I made on the way home. But now I see I am over 200 words. And Steven is home, so I can read him what I’ve got so far. I hope he approves. I hope my readers do, too.

To Write Another Day

Goodness gracious, look at the time. I haven’t made my blog post yet, I haven’t even written it. Oh dear, whatever will I do? Sit down at the computer, I suppose, and see what I can come up with.

OK, I typed that much in and just sat here. Swell. You know, sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. My philosophy is, you have to be philosophical about it (I stole that expression from Donald Westlake) (one of my favorite writers).

I don’t suppose I can still use the excuse of being tired out from my fabulous weekend. Then again, why can’t I? I’m not a young woman. Oh heck, even when I was young I was not particularly resilient. I don’t think. Of course, I don’t remember things very well any more.

I think (stand by for a middle-aged musing) that the older we get, the more ready we are to cut ourselves a break. At least I am. And why not? Why should we not treat ourselves as kindly and gently as we would treat a friend? Or do you not treat your friends kindly and gently? If not, shame on you! Be nice to your friends!

As always, I had hoped not to write yet another post about Why I Can’t Write a Post. But I remind myself, writing about not writing is still writing. I’m sure I’ll live to write another day.

Go Jump in the Lame

Here I am on Lame Post Friday and once again, I got nuthin’.

How can this be? How many posts have I written about how once I start writing, I just write more? It’s true. I write the blog post every day, and then I write the novel. And then I write more. So how come I’m not writing right now?

I know, writing about not writing is still writing. It just isn’t very interesting. It’s kind of — dare I say it? — lame.

Ah, but Lame Post Friday is for random observations and half-baked philosophy, and I believe yesterday I brought up some half-baked philosophy. A minor confession: I often declare things “half-baked philosophy suitable for Lame Post Friday” merely because I don’t feel like dealing with them on whatever day it happens to be. But when you get to Lame Post Friday and there isn’t a random observation in sight…

I think my question was something along the lines of is there a discernible reason for me to be writing this blog at all? Kind of a silly question, but consider the source (me). I don’t know if it’s half-baked philosophy after all. I write the blog because I like writing the blog. Even on days when I can’t think of a non-lame thing to say.

Writing AT ALL

I’m afraid Tired Tuesday is going to be a regular feature for Mohawk Valley Girl, because, quite frankly, I am. This is what I wrote during the 9 a.m. break at work today. Full disclosure: I mostly wrote it just to get my pen moving and hoped I would come up with something better to publish. But perhaps this will do.

The one thing I have a horror of is staring at a blank page. What happens is that one daydreams one’s time away and where does that get one? I suppose there is something to be said for daydreaming, but most daydreamers are too busy daydreaming to say it (ooh, I just flashed on the Monkees’ “Daydream Believer.” Love those Monkees).

I’m having problems with the blog as well as the novel. I have a few things to write about for the blog, but I just can’t seem to put the words on the paper. I really hate admitting that. I can hear scornful voices saying, “Just write it, you big baby.” And I’m afraid the scornful voices are me.

I read a metaphor once that seems appropriate here. You probably won’t be able to batter down the door by main force. Try another door. And return to the first one every so often and give a gentle tap. It might let you in.

Actually, I feel a little better about myself right now, because I am actually putting words on a page. If I can write at all, I can potentially write something good. Ah, and that leads me into the similarities of writing and running. When I was trying to build up my run time in the army, my goal for myself on a run was to run a little faster than I really wanted to run. Very often that pace translated to “at all.” And, lo and behold, as long as I kept running AT ALL, eventually I improved.

Will it be so with my writing? Hard to say. I guess I’ll wait and find out.

NOTE: During my lunch break I wrote two pages on my novel. I wrote another page while doing laundry after work. Maybe writing AT All helps.

Novel Problem Solving

This is not going to be the usual Why I Can’t Write a Blog Post Today post. Oh, I did not write a blog post and I’m not exactly going to write one now. I’m going to tell you what I did instead.

I wrote.

I don’t know if I mentioned that my novel has hit another snag. It’s been doing that a lot lately. Then I think of something else to write and I limp along for a few more pages. And then I hit another snag. Oh dear.

I’ve read that when you run into a snag, sometimes it means there is an inherent problem in the work. Bulling your way through is not the best thing to do. Pausing and figuring out the problem is. As long as it does not become an excuse for just not writing the damn thing. Which, for many projects, is actually the right thing to do.

But I digress.

I think my problem with this novel is a problem that often plagues works of fiction: namely, there is no problem. To put that more clearly, the problem WITH the novel is that there are not enough problems IN the novel. I need some more conflict, more obstacles for my characters to overcome. I need a few other things, too, but to get into those would be to tell entirely too much of my plot, so, sorry, let’s stick with the no problem thing.

Knowing what the issue is is unfortunately only half the battle. Now I have to figure out how to solve it. I decided to (1) not beat myself up and (2) not worry if I did not write on the novel for the rest of the week as long as I thought about the novel and what it needed. A rationalization for a mental vacation? Well, who cares if it was, just listen to what happened today.

I sat at my machine at work, thinking (working too; I believe I’ve mentioned I have that sort of a job). I came up with some ideas. I thought some more. I thought I’d better write some notes on a few of these ideas. Of course, writing notes is not the same thing as writing a novel, but sometimes you do what you have to do.

And here is the amazing thing: I sat down and did NOT write notes, I wrote NOVEL! Suddenly, I was deep into an exciting scene that I hadn’t even thought about writing. I was in a character’s head I had not thought I would get into. Ooh, what would come next? Dammit, a fifteen minute break is short!

I couldn’t wait for lunch, when I wrote some more. I am aware, of course, that some of the things we feel most pleased about as we write and immediately after we have written turn out not to be as wonderful as we thought. I don’t care. I wrote on my novel. I can’t wait to see what I write tomorrow.

Although I do hope to get back to writing good blog posts eventually. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Don’t Ask Me Why

I felt so pleased with myself for not having Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Let that be a lesson to me: don’t feel pleased with myself! Then again, how can I help my feelings? What am I beating myself up for?

As you may have guessed, I am once again writing a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today, sometimes known as Wrist to Forehead Whatever Day It Is (today is Monday). In my defense, it is Monday. And it has been another cold Monday. And I have a few things on my mind.

Oh, stop playing those miniature violins! I’m not whining; I am telling you WHY. But why is not really the important thing, or even a particularly interesting thing. In fact, I would submit that in many instances, “Why?” is a fairly useless question. Ooh, watch me segue into a Monday Middle-aged Musing here.

Mommy tells Junior not to touch the cookie jar. Of course he does, and the jar comes crashing down, smashing to smithereens and ruining two dozen cookies.

“Why did you do that when I told you not to?” Mommy can’t help but ask. You see, I’m not blaming her for asking, I am merely arguing that it is not a helpful question. A more pertinent question might be, “Do you know where the broom and dustpan are and how to use them?” Oh, I’m also not saying Junior shouldn’t have some comeuppance for his misdeed. That’s a whole other question I’m not even going to deal with today.

I suppose a pertinent question for me is not “Why aren’t you writing a real blog post today?” but perhaps, “What do you intend to write tomorrow?” I’ll start planning that right away. As soon as I get my wrist surgically removed from my forehead.

Two Lame Scares

It is Lame Post Friday and I confess, I am feeling beyond lame.

I worked on my novel on breaks at work today. I wrote some good stuff. When I got home I typed in some stuff I wrote on the novel last August. It’s some pretty good stuff, too.

OK, I admit it, I don’t really have a clear idea of whether or not it’s good stuff, but I like it. Just a minor problem, however, in that I seem to have two novels. Seriously, I see two main plot lines that I thought were related, but perhaps are not.

I would really love to expound upon this dilemma, but I am afraid that if I talk too much about the novel, I will no longer feel obligated to write it. I’ve mentioned that before. Also, the ever present threat of Advice from Others. Even (good God not that!) Well-Meaning Advice.

Now I’ve scared myself.

When I first got home today, I wrote a few postcards and walked to the post office with Tabby to mail them. Suddenly I’m flashing on a Writer’s Horror Story I heard once, about a writer who used up all his creativity writing witty cards to friends and never wrote that novel.

Actually, I thought that story sounded kind of lame at the time (hey! How appropriate for today!). And the more I’m in this writing game, the lamer I see that it is. Creativity is not a bucket that you empty. It is a spring or a river or a bottomless well. You take some out, and it flows even better. I wrote novel and postcards (and, dare I say, blog post) today, who knows what I will write tomorrow!

Yes, it’s another post where I just put some words here, hit publish and drive on. I am hoping for some Mohawk Valley adventures tomorrow. I hope at least some of you stay tuned.