Tag Archives: blogging

Excuse Me, I’m Having a Lame Here

I have two days left of Finish That Novel May.  Earlier I was toying with the idea of denying I ever said that.

 

“No, no, what I said was, ‘I MAY Finish That Novel.’  You misheard me.”

 

The writing took a turn for the better since yesterday.  I wrote and wrote.  Maybe if I cancelled all my plans for the weekend and wrote non-stop…   I think we all know that is not going to happen.  For one reason, I have had weekends when I had no plans at all.  I have not written non-stop.  For another reason, my plans are important and not just for me.  I have a life outside of this novel.

 

And there we have it.  Am I allowed to have a life outside of being a writer?  I’m sure there are people out there who would say (hear it in that squeaky, nyah-nyah voice we mimic people we hate in):  “If writing is important to you, you’ll write.”  And then they go on to list all the things THEY have given up to write.  Which is nice, if it is the things they HAVE given up and not the things they would have given up if, in fact, they wrote and didn’t just go around telling others how to write.

 

Oh, OK, other writers do make sacrifices of things they might like to do in order to write.  So do I. Sometimes.  Perhaps I need to sacrifice a little more.  The thing is, I have always been of the opinion that the more you experience, the more material you have to work with.  That, and when I was younger, I really wanted to LIVE.  I had spent a lot of time sitting at home reading or writing stories.  Once I got older, I got out and DID things.  I guess I kind of got in the habit of it.

 

Of course, going out and doing things is good for a writer of a daily blog.  But we’re talking about a novel today.  On the other hand, we are writing a blog post.   A Lame Friday Post.  And I declare it done.  I am going back to my life. Maybe write a little more on that novel.

 

Non-Sequential Chores

Sometimes you just have to do something, anything.

 

I know, this is under the heading of “Well, duh” advice.  However, I have had it demonstrated for me three different times today.  Four if you count the library.  This being Non-Sequitur Thursday, I think it will be appropriate to tell three small but differing stories with a common theme.  Think of it like Love Boat or Fantasy Island (if you don’t get the reference, consider that another non sequitur).

 

Finish That Novel May is not going well.  I seem to spend a lot of time looking at what I have and asking, “What is this?  Where do I go now?  Oh crap!”  Well, today at lunch I just started writing a scene.  And it was good!  It was important!  And dramatic!  I finished that scene and I wanted to pump my fists in the air and shout, “Yes! THAT was a scene!”  I started another scene during the two o’clock break, wrote a little more of it just before going home, and I walked out of that place wanting to sing.

 

I went to the library and worked on another chore that needs must be done, but feel less triumph over that so shall not count it as proof of today’s opening sentence.  However, I was fortunate enough to find a few good books at their ongoing book sale before I left.

 

At home I was hit with a huge wave of  I Can’t Do ANYTHING!  I felt down, dumpy and sad.  Then about ten or fifteen minutes before Steven was due to arrive home I said to myself, “Just clean till he gets home.”  I couldn’t believe how much I got done.  Not everything, of course, because my house is kind of a sty.  But I felt much better and was able to greet my husband with a big smile.

 

Till I confessed all the stuff I had not gotten done, then I felt a little sad again.  One thing I had been going to do was to make a tossed salad for tomorrow’s lunch, including hard-boiled egg.

 

“Do you want me to start the eggs for you?”  Steven asked.  I said OK, because if I couldn’t manage to make the salad I could always eat the eggs for breakfast.

 

Full disclosure:  I forgot to check on the eggs to see when they started boiling.  Luckily Steven remembered before the water had boiled away.  I made the salad.  The eggs were just right.

 

And that made me feel good enough to tackle the other chore I had been putting off for today:  writing my blog post.

 

Oh Yeah, And I Wore Blue

I am making my post late in the day on Memorial Day (although my page, for reasons best known to itself, says it is tomorrow already).  Never mind why-all I did not post earlier.  I wrote a post in my head as I went for a run.  I will attempt to recreate it now.

 

I had already intended to run every day of my three day weekend.  Then a Facebook friend posted that she and her son were running in honor of fallen soldiers under the auspices of Wear Blue Run to Remember.  You sign up on line and commit to a certain distance, one meaningful to you, and they assign you a soldier to run in honor of, if you don’t have someone in mind to run for.

 

My only problem was that I do not know how far I run.  I run for a set length of time.  It would be nice to think I was doing at least a ten minute mile, but that is by no means certain.  Additionally, I was not sure how hard core my Monday run would be.  I have not been running days in a row lately.  My body might rebel by the fourth day.

 

Finally I signed up to run two miles.  It was meaningful to me, because I learned to run in the army because of the two-mile run on the PT (Physical Training) test.  I felt a little foolish putting such a small distance, especially since my friend and her son were both doing 10 kilometers.  However, it seemed important that I actually do the distance I had committed to.  I knew I could eke out two miles, even on a very bad day.

 

My run did not start out auspiciously.  I wondered if I was having an every other day thing, because my Sunday run was terrific, my Saturday run was terrible, and I don’t remember my Friday run.  But I was running for a soldier.  I had to keep going.  I made up my mind to run up the hill to Herkimer College.  It is an impressive hill to many people.  I feel it is good to run an impressive hill when you are running in tribute.

 

I did not know which soldier I was running for.  Wear Blue had not emailed me back.  I wondered if I had made a typo when I gave them my email address.  I later found out that I had registered too late for them to assign me someone.  There were places I could go and pick someone to run for, but I did not do that.  I just ran for a soldier.

 

As I ran, I worried that the soldier I was running for might feel a little cheated, since his runner was running such a short distance and running it very slowly at that.  I pictured the soldiers up in heaven, discussing it over a beer (I don’t believe the polka that says, “In Heaven There Is No Beer”).

 

“Who’s running for you?  I got this soldier’s wife who runs marathons.  She’s doing 10K.”

 

“Cool.  I got some middle-aged lady, used to be in the army.  She’s doing two miles.  Oh well, I guess the old ladies like to feel they’re doing something for us.”

 

“Yeah, better luck next year.”

 

I made it to the top of the hill and it sure wasn’t easy.  Since I was only doing two miles, I had thought I would just go back down the back way.  But halfway up the hill I remembered the little Veteran’s Memorial Park up near the athletic fields.  I should run to that, I thought, since I am running in tribute.  Then I felt so tired I thought I wouldn’t make it.  Then I realized that I could not possibly write in a blog post that I had thought about running to the Memorial and decided not to.

 

“This is how writing a blog helps runners,” I said to myself.  I continued, utilizing the determination that had gotten me through Basic Training.

 

When I got to the Memorial, I stopped the CHRONO on my watch and walked through it.  It is a small area with trees and benches.  Marble slabs are engraved with the names of Herkimer veterans.  Some of the benches and trees have plaques saying who sponsored them.  I would like to return to the Memorial and spend a little more time, really pay my respects.  Today, however, I soon started my watch again and headed back down Reservoir Road.

 

Somewhere along the way, I realized the run had stopped sucking.  I had not noticed when that happened, but I would hazard a guess that it was about the time I started downhill.

 

For more information on Wear Blue Run to Remember, you can visit their website at www.wearblueruntoremember.org.  They also have a Facebook page.

 

Just a Note

This blog, you may have noticed, has hit a dry spell.  I can blame it on trying to train for the Boilermaker 15K or on Finish That Novel May or, today for example, on the headaches with which I am occasionally plagued.  But it may just be me.  Operator error, as it were.

 

I have completed four years of writing this silly blog, and I have not missed a day (except for once when the electricity went out and I posted late) (and occasionally when I have typed in my posts early and set WordPress to publish them at the proper time, although I don’t think that counts as missing a day).  Every writer hits a dry spell.  Oh well, I suppose some do not, or else they lie about it.  And I’m sure many non-writers feel that dry spells are just laziness or self-dramatization.

 

Where was I going with this?  Ah yes, my dry spell.  I’ve been eking things out with Pedestrian Posts, Running Commentary, and Posts About How I Can’t Write a Post Today.  Many bloggers simply take a little time off.  I’m afraid if I do that I will never start again.  No loss to the blogosphere, you say?  You could be right, although it is unkind to point that out.  It would be a loss to me.

 

I like posting something every day, even if it is just a note to my readers telling them I do not have much to say.  I will say thank you for reading.  Writing a blog has made me a better writer and a more consistent writer.  And it is very fun.  I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow, when I will try NOT to have a Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

 

Tarp Today, Gone Tomorrow

I had hoped not to have a Wuss-out Wednesday, but it was going to be either a Wuss-out Wednesday or another Running Commentary.  And I didn’t run.  Other bloggers do not stress over this kind of thing, they post whatever and drive on.  I shall do that today.

 

I have been working on my novel during breaks at work.  And, I’m afraid, talking about it.  Tuesday as we headed out for the 2 p.m. break, I mentioned that I had killed another character.  Of course I hadn’t killed him — or her; the murderer had.  My co-worker asked had I wrapped the victim in a tarp.  I had not, but what a good idea, especially for that murderer.  After all it wasn’t enough that he — or she — killed — that person.  He — or she — would want to rob  — that victim — of all dignity.

 

It is very difficult to talk about my novel and not give away any plot points.  Now you know that more than one character dies.  Is killed.  But to complete my story about me writing my story,  I told my co-worker I would have to change too many things to wrap the body in a tarp.  Then today, I reconsidered.

 

“This should make you happy,” I said to him after the 9 a.m. break today.  “I wrapped that body in a tarp.”

 

He was happy.

 

I don’t know if the body will stay in the tarp.  Perhaps I should know these things, especially since I have set myself the goal of typing “The End” by May 31.  However, I can’t worry about that now.  Right now my purpose is to write a Wuss-out Wednesday post.  And here it is.

 

See you on Non-Sequitur Thursday.

 

Spoiler Alert: I Get Endorphins!

I thought I would avoid Wrist to Forehead Sunday with a Running Commentary.  For one reason, I had a GOOD run this morning!  After all those whiny posts about how much my legs hurt and I wanted to stop (but kept going), I thought it might be nice to write about a run I enjoyed.

 

I was not sure I would even be able to run this morning.  We were out much later than usual last night, having a marvelous time.  Then I could not sleep when I finally closed my book (hey, the Earl of Essex was about to get into BIG trouble with Queen Elizabeth, these things are hard to put down).  However, I knew I would be glad I did it, so I got myself dressed and out the door before I had a chance to talk myself out of it.

 

Wanting to run uphill but tired of going up to the college, I headed for Steuben Road.  That road goes up for quite a ways, then another road takes you back down, making kind of a V.  I could not remember how long it was before you get to the V but seemed to think it was a ways.  No matter.  If I felt I was going too long, I could always turn around and run back down the way I came.  It’s not my favorite way to run, but it’ll do in a pinch.

 

Up, up I went.  Almost no traffic prior to 7 a.m. on a Sunday.  I like that, especially since the shoulder on that road is not as wide as the one on Lou Ambers drive.  One stretch was all woods on either side of me. I’ve seen deer there, so I kept looking.  Of course, I’ve also seen deer in front yards right down in the village proper, so seeing wildlife is always a possibility on my runs.  None greeted me today, though, so I enjoyed the sights of trees, a little stream, and houses when I saw them.

 

The run was not going badly.  I didn’t feel awful.  I didn’t even mind going uphill.  Of course I wasn’t going very fast.  I never go very fast.  And time was not passing too slowly.  I kept calculating in my head how long I should run uphill for, so as not to make my total run time too long.  I want to improve, but doing too much too soon is a mistake.

 

I reached the turn pretty easily.  Perhaps I am more along in my training than I had thought. I even ran by the first turn, the one that really makes a V and on to the next left, which I knew would also take me where I wanted to go.

 

Some of these houses are very nice.  I saw some porches that just cried out to be sat on.  Of course I did not stop and sit.  I may do that on my own front porch or back deck later, glass of wine or beer optional.  I noticed a classic sports car that needed work.  I could not tell what it was (I don’t really know from cars), but I placed it in the ’60s by the lines.  Maybe ’70s.  My dad restores old cars.  He’s worked on some real beauties.

 

Soon I was back down on German Street.  Instead of heading for home, I crossed the street and ran down Lansing.  I would run around some neighborhood streets, to make it a nice, long run.  My last longest run so far this year had been 46 minutes.  I thought I ought to at least equal that.  Since that had increased my run time for more than the recommended 10 percent, I did not feel that I needed to go 10 percent more than 46 minutes, but a little more than 46 would be OK.  I guess my training schedule is not scientifically planned.  What do you want from me anyways?

 

I was seven or eight minutes away from my house when it happened.  I started to feel terrific!  This was awesome!  I LOVE running!  I wanted to put my hands up in the air and shout.  I realized that at long last I had gotten some of those endorphins.  This was GREAT!  Would I get endorphins every time I ran this long?  How cool would that be?  Would I get endorphins while I was running the Boilermaker?  If I did, I would probably go ahead and put my hands up in the air and shout.  After all, why not provide a little more entertainment for my fellow runners?

 

My run ended up lasting for 48 minutes.  My euphoria lasted all during my cool-down walk with Tabby.  Ooh, I was so happy with myself.  I even felt optimistic about working on my novel. In fact, I have worked on my novel.

 

Sorry to inject a slightly down note, but I’d just like to mention:  I stated in a comment once that writing is SO much easier than running.  It turns out I meant blog posts, not novels.  It is much easier to run than to write novels.  However, it is easier to write blog posts than to run.  Just saying.  I intend to keep doing all three.  Happy Sunday, everyone.

 

Power Lame Mower

Yes, it is another Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy.  I seem to remember earlier this week threatening to philosophize (half-bakedly, of course) about how many of us hate to be reminded about things we ought to be doing (especially if we ought to be doing them without being reminded).  Well, I don’t feel like it.  If you would like to remind me that I ought to do what I say I am going to do, feel free.

 

I went for another run this afternoon after work.  I did not run as far.  I certainly did not run fast (I didn’t run fast yesterday either, but I believe I ran less slowly).  I composed a Running Commentary blog post in my head as I ran.  I’m not going to write it up now.  How many Running Commentaries do my readers want to read?  No, seriously, I’m asking, how many Running Commentary blog posts do you think are good?

 

After my short run, I attempted to mow the lawn.  I can’t get the power mower started so I used the non-power one I purchased for precisely that reason.  It does not work as well, but I did what I could with it. Then I did some stuff with a garden implement purchased by my husband.  It consists of a short double blade on a handle.  You can swing it back and forth and cut things down.  I attempted to do this with the tall dandelions which had eluded the mower.

 

I felt like I was doing battle.  The enemy was much smaller than me, but I was way outnumbered.  Swish, swipe, try that again.  Wait, there are some more.  Look behind me.  I’m surrounded!  At last many of them lay dead or wounded.  Oh dear, that is a terrible image.  I had no idea I was so blood-thirsty.  Oh, OK, I really did.

 

My beloved schnoodle, Tabby, is once again not feeling well.  I throw that in as a blatant bid for some sympathy.  Steven and I are worried about our sweet dog.  I hate to end on a down note, but that is really all I have today.  Hope you are having a non-lame Friday.

 

Blog then Bed

Is it Mental Meanderings Monday or Middle-aged Musings Monday?  Discuss amongst yourselves.

 

I bet that wasn’t a very long discussion.  Probably a couple, “I don’t care what you call it,” a few, “Oh, no, not another silly post,” or even, “Oh, goody, another silly post.”   Perhaps somebody brought up my love of alliteration.  In admiration or annoyance? (Did you notice what I did just then?)

 

It seems I am too tired to write a decent blog post.  The reason I am so tired is that I have been working on my articles for Mohawk Valley Living, my favorite magazine.  I daresay I flatter myself, but I think they are pretty good.  If only I could get them finished, polished and submitted, my life would be perfect.  I know what some of you are thinking: why didn’t I just publish one of the articles for my blog post?  I have done that on occasion, but I kind of feel like it’s cheating (hey, that’s something else you can discuss amongst yourselves).

 

Another factor in tonight’s trouble in coming up with a blog post is that I really need to get to bed early.  My husband has an early shift at work, for which he prefers to rise at 3:30 a.m.  I go to work at my normal time of seven, making an early morning run a good idea.  Hey, that means I could write tomorrow’s blog post about the run.  Score!

 

In the meantime, we all know Monday can be a painful day for us Monday through Friday wage slaves, as is the day after a day or days off for those who work different hours.  As I said yesterday, all I can do is stay hydrated and try again tomorrow.  Happy Monday, everyone.

 

 

Show All Your Work

Twice now this week I’ve gone running.  Twice I have narrated in my head, coming up with some rather witty commentary if I do say so.  Twice I have sat down at the computer and NOT been able to write the post.

 

Well, I can’t wuss out, because this is not Wuss-out Wednesday.  It is Non-Sequitur Thursday.  I shall come up with something non sequential but fun.  Or I’ll write a short, foolish post and slap on a goofy headline that doesn’t really fit.

 

But first I have to start dinner.

 

OK, I cooked the last of the bacon (we don’t often have bacon, but Steven had a craving).  While it cooked I sliced some red onion and opened a can of mushroom pieces and stems.  Then I cooked a couple of cube steaks, seasoning them with Worcestershire sauce, garlic powder and lemon pepper (I used the last of the Worcestershire, but I know Steven put it on the shopping list).

 

When the steaks were almost done, I put on the onions, mushrooms and bacon on them, then covered them with cheese.  Full disclosure: not real good cheese.  We got it to hide Tabby’s medicine in, but it turns out peanut butter works better.

 

Oh yes, I cooked with wine.  I did not put any in the food this time, because I don’t have a whole lot.  Next time I might put it on the food.  I think cube steaks need all the help they can get.

 

In the meantime, I hope this counts as a post, even without a catchy title.

 

How to De-Funkify?

Yeah, I know defunkify is not a word (hyphenated or otherwise).  Is that a problem?

 

Full disclosure: this is my third attempt at writing this post.  I am a little embarrassed.  Usually when I can’t write at least I can write about not being able to write (the irony is not lost on me).  But this funk seems to be reaching sizable proportions.  However, I continue to attempt to deal with it, one way or another.  These are my thoughts on how one might deal with such a thing.

 

In general, one has two options when dealing with a funk:  surrender to it or fight it.  One’s first impulse is often to fight it.  As the poet said, Do not go gently into that good night!  (Was it Dylan Thomas?  Probably ought to look that up before I publish this.)  Sometimes what you need to do is power on out of that funk.  Just sit your butt down and write (or  get off your butt and run, clean the house, whatever it is your funk is preventing you from doing)!

 

Surrendering sounds like a terrible option. One of my favorite movies Galaxy Quest taught me, “Never give up! Never surrender!” Well, let’s not call it surrender (a’ 70s song about “Sweet Surrender” just started playing in my head).  Call it Relax Into It.  Just sink down into the funk and give your brain a break.  Take a deep breath and enjoy the view.  Relax.

 

Sometimes when you do this, you emerge on the other side of the funk.  Sometimes the funk is your brain and body’s way of telling you that you need a rest.  And sometimes not.  Sometimes the above mentioned power through it is the way to go.

 

As I wrote the preceding, it occurred to me that perhaps there is a third option of gently trying different things to ease your way out of the funk.  I alluded to this method in yesterday’s post, when I felt marginally better after a nice walk with my husband and dog.  A blogger I often read, Return of the Modern Philosopher wrote about a trip to the library which helped his funk considerably.  He took a hard run the next day which also seemed to help.

 

Hmmm…. This may land me in the middle of some half-baked philosophy more suitable for Lame Post Friday.  It seems to me a walk and a trip to the library are gentle ways to ease out of a funk while a hard run is more on the power your way out method.  Then again, running is not writing, so really it would only be powering your way out if your funk was preventing you from running (my funks do that sometimes, too).

 

Now I have three things to look up before I publish this: the poet quoted earlier and the links to Return of the Modern Philosopher.  The question is: is it easier to save this post AGAIN and do that, or to save this post (AGAIN) and write about the run I took this afternoon.  Less writing to pause and look things up, but I hate to waste a good run.  Hmmmm…..

 

OK, it was Dylan Thomas, and I put in the appropriate links.  Now I wonder if the title is right… Oh hell, I’m hitting publish.