Category Archives: writing

Sorry, Readers

Posted on March 25, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

It’s another Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I don’t have a post written. I don’t have any ideas of what to write a post about. I don’t even have any humorous remarks about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today.

I almost had Wrist to Forehead Saturday. I took out an old spiral notebook and wrote a sentence. And crossed it out. I wrote another couple of sentences and crossed them out. I frowned. Started another sentence. Forced myself to write… each… word… Then when I was folding laundry I came up with the St. Baldrick’s Day idea. Saved!

I walked with my schnoodle Tabby to the post office to mail postcards yesterday morning, thinking that would be worth a post. My husband Steven joined us for another walk this afternoon. The highlight of today’s walk was the memorial for Ape, the police dog who gave his life protecting his human partner from the killer. At least, I don’t know if highlight is the right word. But I don’t feel I can write a blog post about that, or indeed, say anything else about the tragedy today.

Yesterday I had a couple of opportunities for Mohawk Valley adventures, in addition to our post office jaunt, but alas, nothing blogworthy ensued. I didn’t even watch a cheesy horror movie, although a couple good-sounding choices await on my DVR.

So boo hoo for me. And boo hoo for you the reader, as I blather on about these things. Oh well, I guess the blogosphere can survive one more stupid post from yours truly. Ah, here’s something apropos. In the old notebook I was writing in yesterday, I found a crumpled piece of paper with the following quote:

Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometime courage is a quiet voice at the end of the day saying, “I will try again tomorrow.”

I guess what I do doesn’t take a plethora of courage, but, yes, I will try again tomorrow. Hope to see you then.

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But About Me…

Posted on March 3, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Thursday night I went to a meeting of Herkimer Now, a group whose goal is to revitalize the Village of Herkimer, NY. I intend to write a fuller post about Herkimer Now, but today I’m going to talk about me.

When I walked into the meeting at Basloe Library (one of my all time favorite places), the guys that were there introduced themselves, so I told them my name.

“With?” one of them inquired. Oh dear. Of course, these were all local business owners or community leaders of some sort.

“Um, nowhere in particular.” Then, feeling some explanation of my presence was called for: “I write a blog about the Mohawk Valley. I thought I might write a post about you guys.”

So naturally they wrote down the name of my blog. One fellow asked was “girl” spelled with a “u.” Apparently that’s how all the cool gurls do it.

“I’m not cool,” I admitted. Hmmm. Mohawk Valley Gurl. Never thought of that. But now that I think about it, sometimes you see it spelled “Grrrl,” especially when it’s plural. I feel so conventional. It’s embarrassing.

Now, I write this blog every day. I get some pretty positive feedback. I know some of my posts are pretty good (if I do say so). But I’m still not entirely comfortable presenting myself as Someone Who Writes a Blog. Or even as a Blogger, which sounds younger, hipper and, it must be said, a trifle less literary. I worry that people will Expect things from me.

“That’s a good thing,” I can just hear somebody arguing, with or without an admonitory finger shake. “You should expect things of yourself.”

For one thing, there’s that dirty word “should” again. For another thing, setting up Expectations (Great or otherwise) has a distinct chilling effect on creative endeavors. Sometimes you have to back into these things.

My other concern is, as blogs go, this one is kind of, well, rinky dink. I was all excited to be over 150 followers. I’ve seen other bloggers get twice that many “likes” on one post. I am not exactly big time.

Then again, 150 followers is nothing to sneeze at. And every “like” or positive comment is appreciated. The Herkimer Now people may find my blog perfectly enjoyable.

Later on at the meeting, a man was talking about the newsletter and how he wanted to add articles, especially about local businesses.

“If only there was someone,” he said, “Maybe someone who just happened to walk into a meeting. Someone who likes to write about local things. Maybe who has a blog.”

I’m probably misquoting, but it was along those lines. I felt extremely flattered. Of course I would be happy to write for them. With writing and with theatre, if somebody asks me, my answer tends to be yes. Unfortunately, I left the meeting without giving them my email. It was the day my computer died, so I did not feel it was the best way to get ahold of me. I’m still computerless. In fact, I’m typing this on a computer at Basloe Library (did I mention it’s one of my favorite places?).

So perhaps we have a new feature: It’s All About Me Saturday. I like it. But stay tuned, I’ll have more to say about Herkimer Now. Um, later.

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Wish I Had Written That Spare Post

Posted on February 22, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I think I was really onto something with the idea of “In Case of Emergency Hit Publish” (or else I was on something, I think the saying goes). However, the sad truth is, I have not written any other spare posts. Could be a problem.

This morning instead of writing my post, I started writing another play. I haven’t quite finished the last play I was working on, but it has gotten to the point where I need to type in the first draft, print it out and ponder my options.

There I was, scribbling notes on a Christmas play. I wasn’t really nuts about it so far, but I persevered. And I had my reward, because in the midst of my note making, I came up with something I liked. Ha ha ha (satisfied chuckle). I hope nobody feels frustrated that I can’t share it with you, but I think I’ve mentioned how it is a mistake to talk about a piece of writing before it is finished. In fact, I’ve said too much already.

Still, I thought, Non-Sequitur Thursday. How hard can it be? Moreover, it can’t be too long of a post, because I have a dinner meeting of Ilion Little Theatre tonight.

Here’s a grammatical note, just to veer into Stream of Consciousness Thursday instead: I think the proper construction is “too long a post,” but I seem to like better the sound of “too long of a post” when I say it in my head. I always say things in my head when I write them. Sometimes after I write them I call Steven upstairs and say them out loud.

To continue with my Thursday story, as the day wore on, I developed a rather severe headache. I think it has something to do with the weather, but I’m not a doctor, so what do I really know? I was in pain. I did not write further on subsequent breaks.

Now I am at home and the headache has subsided. The result of the Equate Migraine Relief? The blue Gator Ade? Being home with my husband and dog? The coffee Steven made for me? No matter. I’m good to type, if only I had written something to type in.

And just like that, I have over 300 words. Oh, I love this blogging hobby. Tomorrow I will attempt to forgo Lame Post Friday and come up with something real to write about, but I can make no promises. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

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About That Play…

Posted on February 16, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

When we last left our hero (um, that’s me) (I went masculine as gender neutral, because I did not want to refer to myself as an illegal substance), she was about to stop writing her blog post and instead work on finishing a play she had started. OK, enough with the third person crap.

What I’m saying is, I did not write my post on breaks at work today, as I usually do. I trusted to last minute inspiration and my ability in the past to write something on the fly. Or is it off the cuff? I get my clothing metaphors confused.

It is, of course, Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy. I seem to recall mentioning yesterday that we should save the half-baked philosophy about finished works for Lame Post Friday. And here we are.

I find it sad but true when I read a novel or a play or even a magazine article that is not very good: my first thought is, I could do so much better. My second thought is, well, why didn’t you? One reason the worst novel in the world can get published over my deathless prose (I don’t really think it’s deathless; I just like that expression) is that that novel GOT FINISHED.

And here is some more half-baked philosophy: one can take the above thought two ways. It could be an inspiration to write more and concentrate on finishing. Or it can be a discouraging criticism: if you haven’t finished a damn play yet, you never will, give it up now!

Well, which way did you think I was going to take it? You know I like to keep my blog positive! So I spent my time before I had to start working and my break writing my play. Unfortunately, I dare not tell you anything about it, because it is a work in progress. It’s not that I fear my gentle readers will steal my ideas, but I do fear “helpful” criticism (and I am certain MY readers would never offer any other kind). More to the point, I fear that having talked about the play, I will no longer feel the need to write it. I told the story, it’s done. It can happen.

In fact, I think I’d better shut up now.

Happy Friday, everyone.

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Lame Verbiage

Posted on February 9, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Today’s Friday Lame Post is heavy on the half-baked philosophy.

I began to write a far different post. I started running Thursday and intended to write a post about that. My lead was dull. I said so. It went on from there as follows:

And now I sit, pen in hand, contemplating how sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. Maybe I should start a whole other blog about why I shouldn’t bother writing a blog. And by “bother,” I mean bother other people with my verbal meandering.

Note to self: does “verbal” only mean spoken or can it include the written word? It seems to me it should include writing, but I can only seem to recall hearing it used regarding spoken. I have no dictionary with me.

Well, that kept the pen moving for a while anyways. I’m re-reading Writing down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg (Shambhala Publications, 1986) and hence re-acquiring an appreciation for writing one does not intend to share. Practice writing, Goldberg calls it. Of course, I don’t do it the way she says to, never stopping the pen, not going back and re-reading, etc. I have NEVER been able to write without pausing and I have given up trying to make myself (and what a freeing decision that was!).

Full disclosure: As I write this, I picture myself typing it into my computer and publishing it as a blog post. What does that tell you?

Aha! I bet you thought that was a rhetorical question, but I am going to answer it. Writing is, for me, communication. I want to write for a reader.

That said, I understand editing. Whole sentences, paragraphs and posts will never see the light of day (the ether of the internet?) and rightly so. But as I write, I picture somebody reading it. I’m sure many writers do.

And then I stopped writing.

After I typed this nonsense into the computer, I looked up “verbal” in the dictionary (The American Heritage Dictionary, Delta, 1992). It has several meanings, only one of which is “spoken rather than written,” as in a verbal contract (which Sam Goldwyn famously said is not worth the paper it’s written on). It can also just mean having to do with words. But “verbiage,” I see, means wordiness, not specifying written or oral. I see this post is about 400 words. Plenty of verbiage for a Lame Post Friday. Have a good weekend, everyone!

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In My Defense, I’m Still Sick with a Cold

Posted on January 30, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

So there I was, with a perfectly innocuous Miss Marple movie I could write a blog post about, yet I was writing about a rather unsavory dream I had. My object was not psychoanalytical in nature but to disprove the notion that the ideas you wake up with in the middle of the night and forget are actually any good anyways.

This was when I realized how unsavory the dream actually was, and I thought, “Wait a minute! My mother reads this blog!”

This would make an excellent introduction to a discussion on self-censorship and how we really can’t worry about whom we offend. Look, I understand the Let It All Hang Out school of art as well as the next exhibitionist. But I also agree that for some things, there is a time and a place.

The place for my dream (oh, all right, it involved body parts and probably not in the way some of you are thinking) (you know who you are) is in my notebook, safely disguised by my messy handwriting, till I re-write and edit it till I feel it is ready for public consumption. Or it will stay in the notebook and rot while I go on to write something else, having learned what I can from that bit of nonsense.

So you can stop shaking your superior artist fingers at me. I read Writing Down the Bones. I know all about first thoughts and practice writing. I just don’t think I have to post every damn thing I write. Unfortunately, since I like to post something every day, I post a lot of what I write that perhaps some people think would be better off left in said notebook. Well, think what you like.

As my headline said, I am still suffering from a head cold. I’m fuzzy, I’m unhappy. I will cease to inflict myself upon you. Let’s try for Miss Marple again on Wednesday.

Side note: Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, in case you’ve never heard of it, is a very interesting book about writing and creativity. I recommend it.

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In Case of Emergency, Hit Publish

Posted on January 27, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Sometimes coffee is not the miracle one is hoping for.

Full disclosure: This is a Middle-aged Musings post I’m writing with no real plan as to when to post it. I thought it might be useful to have a spare column kicking about, in case of emergency.

It is Monday as I write this. Many people do not sleep well Sunday night. I’m one of them. One can temporarily overcome the deficiency with coffee. Coffee also has mood-boosting properties, which I, for one, find welcome. Sometimes not so much.

Well, at my age (middle), one does not lightly abandon an old friend after a disappointment. Besides, it still tasted good.

My second musing for the day is: sometimes the Write It Anyways philosophy works. I wrote a whole post on Saturday about how I could not write a post about my intended topic. I felt even worse on Sunday but was too embarrassed to admit it could happen to me two days in a row. The result was perhaps not brilliant but perfectly acceptable.

A small side note about the post: my sticking point was the first sentence. I wanted something less mundane than “We went here and did this.” And I felt quite incapable of going on to the second sentence and writing the first one later. Sunday, I accepted the mundane. There’s some half-baked philosophy lurking around there somewhere, but I’ll save that for Lame Post Friday.

Getting back to the Write It Anyways school of thought, I drove to work this morning feeling dry as a bone, writing-wise. I was even composing in my head a lead of “Sorry, kids, it’s Middle-aged Musings Monday.” Then when I sat down with my notebook (I had some time before I had to start work), I thought I would just try to write about a local business we had recently patronized. It worked!

So what have we learned here? I’m going to go out on a limb here and say, “Not much.” Like coffee, sometimes Do It Anyways works and sometimes it does not. And the next time it doesn’t work for me, now I have a spare column.

Side note after I typed this in: Regular readers may remember I mentioned this column yesterday, saying that I had not typed it in. So today I in fact had to type it in and not just hit Publish. Still, I thought it was too good a headline to waste. My only regret is that now I don’t have a spare post any more. Guess I saw that one coming.

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At Least I Wrote Something

Posted on January 20, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

So there I was, having Wrist to Forehead Saturday. A full blown case, too. Oh, I was being pathetic. It was embarrassing. The thing was I could. Not. Write. A. Thing.

I had a lovely Mohawk Valley adventure to write about. Failing that, I had taken not one but two walks with my schnoodle, Tabby. Always acceptable for a Saturday post. I understand the Write It Anyways philosophy. I got out my notebook. I found a pen. I wrote a sentence and scribbled it out. I could not think of an alternative.

“This NEVER happens to me!” I wailed. I had wailed it about thirty-eight times (in my head, of course; I didn’t want to scare the dog), before a little voice in my head said, “Don’t be silly; it happens to you all the time. That’s why you have so damn many lame posts.”

Well, I believe my theme yesterday was “Things Happen.” Or, as the case may be, Things Don’t Happen. In this case, writing the post I had intended to write is not going to happen.

In the alternative, let us briefly consider the Write It Anyways philosophy. I know, half-baked philosophy is for Lame Post Friday. However, since some do not consider this philosophy half-baked, I will make bold to compose a paragraph or two. For one thing, I do not want today to be the first day in over a year and a half that I don’t make a blog post.

Most professional writers acknowledge that you can’t wait for inspiration to strike. If you wait till you are “in the mood” to write, you will write very little. Indeed, I have found in my own experience that most of the time, if I just pick up the pen (or pencil, or put my fingers on the keyboard, if we must be literal as well as literary), words will appear.

Oh, it’s fun when they do. One of my favorite things is, it gets so they appear more easily and regularly. It’s true! Since I’ve been writing the blog, I do spend less time staring at a blank piece of paper. I spend less time staring into space thinking about writing. It’s kind of like running: the more you do it, the more you are able to do it (no, I haven’t started running again, let’s not open THAT can of worms!).

Um, slight disclaimer here: unlike running, it is not as easy to be good at writing. If I keep putting my feet down on the ground one after the other, I will get someplace and I will get there increasingly quicker or go increasingly further. If I put more words on the paper, I will be able to put increasingly more words on the paper, but that does not mean they will be any more interesting for others to read.

Case in point: this post.

On the other hand, if I start to worry about my every every word being deathless prose, I will surely write fewer words. The write-it-and-scribble-it-out disease happens because there is that voice in my head saying, “That’s not good enough” (I’m not sure if it’s the same voice that said, “It happens to you all the time,” but it’s a pretty good bet). Today I said to myself, “It doesn’t have to be brilliant, it just has to be written.”

And now I have written over 500 words. It might be foolish, but it is a blog post. I’ll work on making it brilliant tomorrow. And I will write about our trip to the Capitol Theatre in Rome, NY for a screening of Rear Window (preview of coming attractions). Um, I’m not promising that will be brilliant, but I’ll work on it.

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Can’t Give You Anthing But Lame

Posted on December 22, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

What a dithery week I’m having.

I had meant to continue my Christmas Carol Commentary today. I even had a couple of paragraphs written. I thought, “Don’t do Lame Post Friday right after Non Sequitur Thursday.” And here it is Friday and it seems I can’t be anything but lame.

I have said in the past that I don’t suffer so much from Writer’s Block as from Writer’s Blank. My head feels like a big, empty wasteland. Well, today I think it’s Block. My head feels like a concrete wall. Nothing is getting through.

Possible reason for this phenomenon:

I got some “likes” for my posts earlier this week, and at least one new follower. What if they read my next post and DON’T LIKE IT AS MUCH? What a disaster!

Oh, I know it’s not really a disaster and logically, nobody will like each post equally as well as all others. But I think many writers can identify with the fear that we will not be good enough. After all, better to be silent and let the world think you’re a fool than to write a blog post and remove all doubt.

Actually, I guess that ship sailed with the first post: everybody knows I am something of a fool. I might postulate that most writers are fools: we put our words out there and think somebody, somewhere might want to read them. And you know what, maybe we’re not such fools after all. I like to read what people write. I’m thinking you do too, because, you know, here you are.

One of the best excuses for a lame post is, at least it’s short. Happy Friday, everyone.

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Skip the Futzing

Posted on December 18, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I thought that by instituting Middle-aged Musings Monday, I could take it easy on Monday. Kind of like I take it easy on Friday with Lame Post Friday.

Then I started thinking: Wrist to Forehead Sunday, Middle-aged Musings Monday, Mid-Week Musings, Lame Post Friday, Running Commentary Saturday and the newly discovered Non Sequitur Thursday (I know that puts them out of order, but I wanted to mention Thursday last). Am I writing a Mohawk Valley blog or am I just futzing around?

I guess today I’m futzing. I did not write a post on break at work. I wrote about a page on my novel that will probably end up being quite unusable, if I even finish the novel, which at this point looks doubtful.

Now it sounds like Wrist to Forehead Monday. OK, everybody, just put away your miniature violins, I’ll stop.

As a matter of fact, I dragged Steven and Tabby on a walk just now, thinking I could write about that. It was cold but not too bad. I had attempted a walk with Tabby on Sunday while Steven was at work and it was quite uncomfortable. We made it around one block and that was enough. Tonight’s walk was further and quite enjoyable.

I pointed out to Steven every Christmas decoration I noticed. Then I noticed myself doing that and apologized for being annoying. Steven didn’t mind. He really is a very good husband. Tabby, of course, wanted to stop and sniff almost every post, tree and patch of grass possible. We try to strike a balance between letting her enjoy herself and not taking all damn night about it.

At one point we could hear footsteps behind us so tried to pick up the pace a little. That is a noise that can sometimes make you nervous, especially after dark, but Herkimer is usually a pretty safe place, and for heavens’ sake it was prior to six p.m., not the witching hour (that may be a run-on sentence but I think it’s OK). Then I heard a car next to us click like somebody had used a key fob, so I figured that was footsteps’ car.

As we approached our house I heard wheels behind us, so looked back once or twice. If if was somebody on a bicycle I wanted to get out of the way. It was a lady with a stroller.

“Snowy! Snowy!” the kid in the stroller yelled.

“Every white animal isn’t Snowy,” the lady told him.

I turned around. “No, this is Tabby,” I said. Usually Tabby would want to meet the kid at this point, but we were in front of our house and she was into being home. The lady explained that her mother has a white cat named Snowy, so her boy thinks every white animal must be Snowy. We wished each other a good evening and she continued on her way while the little boy kept yelling for Snowy.

I asked Tabby if she wanted to change her name to Snowy, but she did not seem interested. Steven was pleased that we had walked for almost a half hour. As for me, I have written some 500 words and that almost always makes me feel better. Let that be a lesson to me: next time, skip the futzing.

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