Tag Archives: blogging

No Brain for the Oscars

I believe I mentioned yesterday that I have had a few Mohawk Valley adventures I intend to write about. I hope nobody was looking forward to that too eagerly, because today is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I’m sitting at my computer, typing this off the top of my head and it is not going to be very long.

I am not actually in distress, as Wrist to Forehead may imply (I’m probably not a beautiful maiden, either, but whatever) (you know, from the fairy tales: beautiful maiden in distress? So much for literary references). I am actually having quite an enjoyable weekend. As I mentioned, it is my husband’s birthday weekend. We both have three days off. We like to have days off together.

So why am I not writing a real post, which might even take less time than trying to come up with excuses why I’m not? I say, that is a good question. I guess the only answer is that my brain is not in gear. It may not even be in my head (it made kind of a hollow sound when I tapped it just now) (just kidding; I didn’t really tap myself on the head, I thought it would be funny to pretend I did).

One reason I need to get this post written is that I have snacks to fix. It is Oscar Day, the movie buff’s equivalent of Superbowl Sunday. I have not seen any of the movies nominated, or in fact, any movie made within the past ten years. Well, at least three, anyways. But you know me, any excuse to fix yummy snacks. I may even write a post on what I fix. But not today. Happy Sunday, everyone.

Tsk-Tsk Tuesday

Note to Self: When planning to do laundry after work, write two blog posts the day before, so you only have to hit “Publish” after doing laundry.

Note back: Yeah, good luck with that.

Yes, it is another Tired Tuesday, and I knew it would be. I tried to have a Mohawk Valley adventure yesterday after work, but the exhibit I had thought to visit had closed on the 20th. Let that be a lesson to me to pay more attention to dates when I see these things in the paper. In my defense… OK, there’s really no excuse. Go ahead and make that tsk-tsk noise at me, if that’s what you were about to do.

I had thought to patronize a couple of local businesses before and after doing laundry. Doing laundry itself is, of course, always an adventure, but not always one worth writing about. We did stop by one place, but I neglected to make a note of hours, phone number or other useful things I like to include. Perhaps I could find out this information and use it in a future post.

My novel limps along. I’ve been working on that during breaks at work, rather than trying to come up with stuff to write here. I’m thinking when the novel starts to progress a little better, the blog posts will improve too. We’ll hope for the best.

In the meantime, here is another fairly ridiculous post and I feel too tired to come up with anything better. Please stay with me, dear reader. I’m sure better days are coming.

This is Not a More Better Post

Today is just not working out for me.

That phrase popped into my head as I finally got changed into my sweats and realized I REALLY want to start my weekend now but have not yet written my blog post. I cheer myself up with the thought, It’s Lame Post Friday. Instead of my usual random observations and half-baked philosophy, I offer the Week in Weather.

Monday I did not drive straight home but had a minor adventure. I don’t know that it was particularly a Mohawk Valley adventure, but then again, maybe it was. Winter was still on. I had to clear a layer of heavy, wet snow off my windshield and hood. It had been snowing for most of the day, so I think the snow was previously on the roof and had worked its way down. That was good, because that meant there was less on the roof to slide down while I drove.

The uneven tire pressure light in my SUV was on, so I stopped at the gas station where they have that groovy tire filler where you just punch in the pressure and it figures it out for you. It is most convenient, but one still must crouch next to one’s tires, sometimes for a long time. I wanted to kneel, but not in an inch of snow and ice. Ugh.

From the tire adventure, I went to Aldi’s to get some canned goods. Their lot was full, so I approached with trepidation. Still, I wanted beans. Apparently all the snow had fallen after they had plowed. The space I found to park in had not even been driven over. Still, a space is a space. I took it. The only adventuresome part came later, when I tried to push a full cart through the snow to get back to my vehicle. Oh well, I comforted myself, it burns more calories.

Winter waned as the week progressed. I believe I wrote about a wet walk we took with Tabby yesterday. Today I took Tabby down the sidewalk in hopes of meeting Steven as he came home from work. This time I sensibly put on my flood boots. My feet stayed dry, if not exactly warm.

I mostly felt happy the rain had stopped. It had been raining like the proverbial sonofabitch earlier (pardon my french). I worried about my basement but since the streets didn’t seem too bad, I cravenly did not go down and check. When Steven came home he informed me that water was indeed coming up into the basement. We went down and sopped with towels and a mop. Once again, my flood boots came in handy.

At last we felt we had done all we could. I may head out somewhere tomorrow and get a more better mop and bucket (more better being the technical term). That will possibly make a more better blog post on Saturday. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

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.

Another Stroll Down Memory Lame

Does anybody else remember this:

“TASTES GREAT!”

“LESS FILLING!”

“I still don’t know why they wanted me to be in this commercial.”

Yes, I am about to write a Friday Lame Post worthy of Non-Sequitur Thursday. The fact is, once again, I got nuthin'(the period doesn’t look right after the apostrophe). (Oh, but it looks fine after the parenthesis.)

I didn’t even try very hard to write anything while I was at work. I managed almost a page on my novel (it seems to be going well, but I’m sure that’s deceiving), and I conversed with a co-worker.

Oh, here’s… I don’t know if it’s a random observation or what, but the word is “converse.” Certain sergeants in the army said “conversate,” as in, “You don’t need to be off there conversating.” My elementary school teachers used to say “visiting,” as in, “Do your work and don’t be visiting with your neighbor!” Incidentally, I almost always visited with my neighbor, even when the teacher sat us boy/girl in hopes of curtailing such a thing.

And how about that, back when boy/girl was supposed to be a bad thing? Was it ever, really? I mean, I didn’t want them to be my boyfriends, but I would always talk to the boys (visit? conversate?).

Just as a final note (and here’s the real non-sequitur of the day): I think today is my 1,000th post. Isn’t that cool? Happy Friday, everyone.

How James M. Cain Makes Steven Nervous

How about a new feature called Tired on Tuesday? I may have suggested that before.

I was afraid this would happen when we did not watch a cheesy movie on Sunday. I was just too lazy to look for one. Instead, we watched two film noirs (films noir?) based on James M. Cain novels, The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) and Double Indemnity (1944).

I can’t write about these movies the way I usually do about more cheesy cinematic fare. They’re really good movies. I suppose I could do a compare/contrast about them, because both are about sexy blondes who enlist boyfriends to help kill their husbands. Or I could be silly and tell how my husband Steven gets a little nervous because they are two of my all-time favorite movies. Or I could bag both movies and write instead about the walk I took with my schnoodle Tabby yesterday.

What I cannot do, it seems, is go right downstairs and watch a cheesy movie or have a Mohawk Valley adventure so I have something to write about.

The funny thing is, I almost had a topic this morning. Steven was driving me to work, and I went into one of my foolish analyses of words, this time critiquing the name of a certain chain drug store. Steven’s reply was, “Blog post.” I won’t write it, though, because on reflection, I feel it is not a spot-on analysis.

And now I see I have over 200 words (love that word count feature), which by my definition makes a respectable blog post. Tune in tomorrow (if you will be so kind), when perhaps I will wax eloquent about Valentine’s Day. Happy Tuesday, everybody.

No Write, No Run, But Wrist

Oh, it is SO Wrist to Forehead Sunday! I can’t write a post! I don’t want to write a post! I don’t want to write ANYTHING!

OK, got that out of my system. As usual, once I sit down at the keyboard, words come out. Maybe not good words, but I can at least edit out the bad words (you know like %$^#%$^@$(@ and *&*&^$%##!).

I read somewhere that motivation follows action, not the other way around. In other words, if you wait till you are “in the mood” (with apologies to Glenn Miller) to do a distasteful chore, you will never do it. However, once you begin said chore, you find it is not so bad after all. You happily do that and twelve other distasteful chores you have been putting off.

Unfortunately, sometimes it does not work. This morning, for example, I did the dishes and it did not lead me to sweep and mop the kitchen floor. I made a salad and chopped some vegetables for my lunch tomorrow. I’m sure I have praised in this blog the therapeutic benefits of chopping vegetables. Today, not so much.

I fear that if I tried to go running today it would be an unpleasant plod. I had previously agreed to let myself off the hook, due to temperatures below 20 degrees. Then I logged onto WordPress and saw a blogger I follow had published a post about how he went running in 8 degree weather. EIGHT DEGREES! What kind of a wimp am I? (It was Return of the Modern Philosopher , if you want to know.)

So that is the story of my life so far: no writing, no running. Well, if I have learned anything at my age, it is that these moods pass. However, that thought is more in the category of Middle-aged Musings. I’ll hold it for Monday. Hope to see you then.

Blame the Book

First, a confession. I took the day off.

Not from work, of course. I went to my place of employment and did what they pay me to do (remember: not a work blog). But I wrote nothing. No novel, no blog post, no letter, not even a grocery list. I read a book.

In my defense, it’s a library book that I have to finish and get back to the library. And it is a history book, so I am educating myself. Becoming more erudite and informed. Oh, who am I kidding? It’s easier to read than to write, so today I read.

The fact is, I love to read even more than I love to write. If I don’t have anything else to read, I’ll read the backs of cereal boxes. But I almost always have something else to read. Libraries, used book sales, garage sales, thrift stores and even Barnes and Noble supply me with my drug of choice (um, that’s reading) (I didn’t need to clarify that, did I?).

I actually read less now than I used to. I used to read to the exclusion of interacting with people. I have this problem of getting absorbed in a book. I used to read and watch TV at the same time. That would drive anybody else in the room nuts when I would constantly ask what I had missed on the TV show because I was reading.

“Get your nose out of that book!” was a phrase I often heard. When I bothered to listen.

In addition to interacting with people, I use free time at work to write. I didn’t used to do that so much with the result that I used to write a whole lot less than I write now. Read more, wrote less; read less, write more (in that sentence the first “read” is past tense, the second is present) (have you ever noticed it’s the SAME WORD?).

So this has been my Friday Lame Post. My miserable excuse for not writing a better post. I feel it will be understood by others who suffer from a similar addiction.

Not Even a Non-Sequitur

This is the worse case of Writer’s Blank I’ve had in a while.

And writing that sentence did not seem to help.

Good God, can it be that I’ve run out of things to say? Wasn’t I just writing last week that it wasn’t like a bucket that got emptied? Oh well, I think I stole that metaphor. After all, plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery (and I bet the person I stole it from stole it from somebody else).

I seem to be moving from Non-Sequitur Thursday to I Got Nuthin’ Thursday.

In fact, I had a minor adventure I had been going to write about. It involved my husband’s car getting hung up in a snowbank at the end of our driveway. When I got to work and shared the story with a co-worker, I finished with, “Now I’ll go write a blog post about it.” Another co-worker said, “Now you have something to write in your blog,” before I had a chance to say that (yes, I told the story twice; I really don’t have that much excitement in my life).

Could this be an example of what they say concerning fiction writing? Don’t tell your plots to people, because you won’t need to write them any more. Did I talk myself out of a blog post?

I’m thinking I did not. It really was not all that good of a story. I just said the blog line to be cute.

And I see I have now written over 200 words about, once again, not writing a post. In my defense, I have a headache and I have been striving not to mention it, because people who go on about their aches and pains are tiresome. I won’t promise anything better for tomorrow, because it will be Lame Post Friday. However, there is a chance we’ll have some Saturday Running Commentary. I hope you’ll stay tuned.