Tag Archives: not writing

Not Like a Snake Eating its Tail

Earlier today I was in the midst of a Mohawk Valley adventure and I was narrating in my head and I narrated the phrase, “I continued to narrate in my head…” And that amused me so much I stopped narrating in my head and contemplated how writing a blog has changed my inner monologue. I thought when I wrote my blog post I would mention how I narrated in my head that I was narrating in my head.

Just a quick question: is this like a snake eating its own tail? In other words, is it a sign I’m reaching the end of my usefulness as a blogger? SAY IT AIN’T SO!!!

I believe in fact it ain’t so, but doesn’t it make a good lead for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday post?

Steven and I had rather a delightful afternoon and evening yesterday. So delightful that I have had a bad headache all day today. At least, I’m guessing it is because I drank too much wine. I’m kind of hoping it is, because that means it will go away eventually. But it is a little embarrassing to admit to all and sundry that I overindulged (listen to me, all and sundry, like I have that many readers! Get over yourself, Cindy!).

So, yes, this is Yet Another Post About How I Can’t Write A Blog Post Today. I’ll keep it short. After all, perhaps my readers are having a Wrist to Forehead Sunday too and who wants to read a long blog post? Not me. Hope to see you Monday, when I hope NOT to type, “I had meant to write a real blog post today, BUT…”

I Daresay I Repeat Myself

I’ve got the dreaded Type It In Then Backspace Over It disease. I think I have started blog posts with that line or something similar before. However, this is the third time I’ve tried to begin this post, I have backspaced over two beginnings so far, it is almost 8 p.m. and I want to get on with my Friday.

I’ve done three things since work which have previously provided perfectly acceptable blog posts: I went running, I tasted wine at a Valley Wine and Liquors, and I got my hair cut at Hot Spot Salon and Spa. Partway through my run I realized I could not write a running commentary. All I could think about was my wet feet. Two running commentaries in one week is OK. Two running commentaries about wet feet is whiny and not very interesting.

I had a vague thought that I could do a silly post about getting dressed for my hair appointment. I’ve written about my wardrobe tribulations before with some success (or do I flatter myself?). Then I didn’t really feel like writing about me being fat and not having many clothes.

Wine tasting is often good for a post. When I remember my wine tasting notebook and take notes about the wines I taste. I actually started to write about my haircut. Couldn’t quite get the lead.

Then again it is Lame Post Friday. What could be more lame than a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today? Hope to see you all on Saturday.

Another Non-Sequitur Thursday

When I left for work this morning I did NOT bring the puzzle book which was part of my downfall the other day. I was going to WRITE on my breaks. I did bring a printout of the article I was working on for Mohawk Valley Living. I thought I could work on it.

I got to work early enough to write. I looked over the article. Marked out how I wanted to rearrange the paragraphs. Added a sentence or two. Made a couple of notes of things to look up further. This was great. I felt like a real magazine writer.

It was time to begin work before I got much else done. At my nine o’clock break, I thought I might work on a blog post. Couldn’t think of anything. I’d written a bunch of notes on my novel (currently at something of a standstill) but felt I could add nothing to them. My play was in the other notebook.

That play. I’m going to be seeing the fellow I’m writing it for next week. And I don’t think it is very good. I think I have some major plot problems. I began writing a synopsis of the plot, so as to get a better handle on what I had going on. I continued the synopsis during my lunch break (pausing to call and talk to my husband, obviously a very important thing to do). I think it is very complicated.

When I got home, I got to work on stuff to submit to Mohawk Valley Living, the deadline for which is tomorrow. I finished my article. I took two previous blog posts and edited them for submission. This, I might add, was a long and complicated process, given my old and infirm desktop computer (I’m composing this on the acer). May I just add, the comfortable feeling of being a real magazine writer did not last.

All this by way of saying, I’m too tired to also write a blog post. However, if my dearest husband can help me come up with a catchy title, we can call this another Non-Sequitur Thursday.

But You Should Have Read That Post in My Head

So there I was trying to write a blog post when it suddenly became clear: what I composed in my head while I was working (it’s OK, it’s the kind of job I can daydream and do properly) does not necessarily translate through my pen and onto the paper.

Oh, there are the Know-It-Alls gearing up to say, “I could have told you that would happen. You can’t THINK about things before you write them, you have to just WRITE.” Blah, blah, blah. I think I know better than to listen to those yahoos by now. Yes, sometimes it is better to sit down at the page (or screen) tabula rasa as it were and see what comes out. Sometimes it helps to think about it first. How much thinking you ought to do varies.

That last sentence is the crux of the matter. The thing is, any piece of writerly advice — even wise, insightful advice (and any advice that begins with a sniff and “I could have told you that would happen” is probably neither wise nor insightful) — is only good some of the time. Every piece of writing is different. What works for one may be a disaster for another. Likewise, one writer’s Rosetta Stone is another writer’s brick wall (ooh, isn’t that a nice metaphor?) (now I’m remembering another piece of writerly advice: if you write something particularly fine, strike it out. I forget who said it).

Another thing about advice is: most people like to give it, few people like to take it. I don’t much like to listen to advice myself, especially if I haven’t asked for it. So anybody gearing up to offer advice on this blog post, NEVER MIND! Unless you’d like to leave a comment. I like when people leave comments. But if you comment with advice, I will probably not follow it.

In case anybody hasn’t noticed, today is Lame Post Friday.

At Least the Turnover Was Good

In my defense, I have a sinus headache.

I thought I would lead with that instead of making it the headline.  Now I don’t have a headline.  Yes, it’s Tired Tuesday.  I was working on my play during breaks at work today.  I was aware, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I did not have an idea of what to write a blog post about today.  If I was smart I would have spent some time thinking about it.  And here we come to the ugly truth about me.

When I got home I looked in my notebook and found a post I started in January about Munson Williams Proctor Art Institute, which I had visited in December with a sister and a friend.  I thought I could use it, so I typed it in.  Turns out, not so much.  I need to work on it.

I know, I KNOW, just work on it now.  I draw your attention to the first sentence of the post.

The other thought I had was to give another shout-out to Heidelberg Bakery, because my husband went there earlier and bought us bread and a treat.  I thought I could spend at least a couple of hundred words expounding on the delightful experience of eating a chocolate turnover. Yum!

Then again, who wants to read the word “yum” two hundred times?  I’m thinking it is marginally more entertaining to read about me not writing.  But perhaps I flatter myself.  I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow,  Wednesday, when I will strive not to Wuss Out.

Not Writer’s Block

It is not Writer’s Block. It is not Writer’s Blank. It is not Writer’s Anything! It is I Can’t Write Anymore!

I suppose I just proved myself wrong with that last paragraph, because, you know, I wrote it. But perhaps I have proven myself right with some of my previous posts (Only SOME? the inner critic carps).

That is what I wrote while at work today. And there did not seem to be much more to say. Then I came home, got on the computer, and read the nice comments on yesterday’s Wuss-out Wednesday post. Surely I was selling myself short and I could write a much better post. I WOULD write a better post! But I did not.

What I did instead was to go upstairs, get on the desktop (I’m on my little ACER now) and type in what I had written previously for an article to submit to Mohawk Valley Living magazine. It is about the play I keep using as an excuse or more accurately the reason for my skimpy posts. I did not just type in what I wrote. I re-wrote the lead, I rearranged the paragraphs, I edited what was there, I added more stuff.

Yeah! I WROTE!

So this is my Non-Sequitur Thursday post about writing. It was going to be a post about not writing, but then I wrote. I feel not displeased with myself. I hope to see you all on Lame Post Friday.

At Last! Writer’s Block!

I think I am finally experiencing Writer’s Block. I know, I know, many people believe it does not exist. Some people don’t believe in Santa Claus either; I refuse to debate some things. Normally I suffer from Writer’s Blank. I look at the page and it remains blank because that is my state of mind. Sometimes I suffer from Write It Down And Cross It Out (or Type It In And Backspace Over It, as the case may be). This, however, I can only describe as Writer’s Block.

I have a post that I wrote last week but did not finish. I thought I would type in what I had and finish it for today’s post. Then I looked at the lead and saw that it mentioned my Christmas vacation. Did that make it dated? Should I change the lead? Go with something entirely different or just change the wording a little to indicate that the post is about an adventure I had last month?

These are not difficult questions. All I had to do was pick an option and start typing. I could even put off the decision, type in what I had, and change it later. But somewhere in the back of my mind there lurked another lead. A good lead, one that made the post… different. Better. But the words would not come forward.

Well why does that matter? I argued with myself. Just type in anything, I said. You’ll find the words you want. If not right away, you can save the draft and finish it later or tomorrow. Just BEGIN!

And I could not.

I felt literally paralyzed (this is not a misuse of the word “literally,” I really FELT AS IF I was literally paralyzed. I did not say I WAS literally paralyzed) (so don’t get didactic on me). I had a couple of other ideas for blog posts I could have gone with. I thought, just write one of those for now. I put my fingers on the keyboard. Nothing happened. I couldn’t write ANYTHING!

Except, it seems, this. We’ll call it a Middle-aged Musings Monday and hit publish. Hope to see you on Tuesday.

Yes, I Am a Silly Blogger

I had thought to have Sunday Running Commentary. However, since it was 19 degrees out, I opted to run in place on the mini-tramp. It was not a particularly blogworthy activity (yes, computer, I know “blogworthy” is not a word, but it ought to be). While I ran, I watched a Hammer horror movie I had DVR’d back in October. Naturally I did not watch the whole movie. Perhaps someday when I am training for a marathon I shall be able to do such a thing. Today was not that day.

I suppose I am gearing up to Yet Another Post About Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. Some readers may be calling foul over that. After all, I had a Wrist to Forehead day yesterday. I had a Lame Post Friday and a Non-Sequitur Thursday. Oh yeah, and a Wuss-out Wednesday. Did I also wuss out on Tuesday? I don’t remember, and I am far too lazy to go back and check now. So you see.

“Yes, I see,” my reader is saying (that imaginary reader in my head who always says such things). “I see that you are too lazy be a real blogger! You bum!”

Can you believe this: my computer considers “blogger” to be a real word! But “blogworthy is not! What’s that all about, computer? Obviously blogworthy is a far superior and useful word. Blogger just sounds silly. Is that what I want to be? I guess I am silly. And so is my blog. I hope I still have some readers on Monday.

More Writing About Not Writing

Well, it is not yet Tired Tuesday it is no longer Wrist to Forehead Sunday, yet I feel I qualify for both of those days. The annoying thing is that I did so write while at work today. I wrote at least a page before my shift started then a few paragraphs more at lunch time. I felt it was not contemptible. And yet. And yet.

What I really feel moved to write right now is an explanation of why I am not publishing what I wrote earlier yet. We’ll call it a Middle-aged Musings Monday and that will make everything OK (I do like giving things names) (I’ll write a blog post abut that one day).

After writing about Steven’s first Christmas gift to me (yesterday’s post), I thought it might be fun to do a week of Christmas memories. By age 51, I have quite a few. I have even been thinking about one particular Christmas lately. The reason I have been thinking about it is that I was broke then and I am broke now. I quite naturally began my post with that thought.

After a sentence or three I thought, “Somebody is going to tell me to stop whining.” You can’t tell tone of voice from typing. I felt I was being matter-of-fact about things, but no doubt some readers would hear whining. I wrote a few more sentences trying to dispel any notion that I am not facing my circumstances with cheerfulness, fortitude and a sense of humor (I’m not, really, I daresay I do whine, but wouldn’t it be nice if I did have cheeriness, etc.?).

Then I started to ask myself, am I even that broke? After all, I still have cable television and the occasional bottle of wine. I haven’t started stealing the dog’s food nor even applied for SNAP benefits. These reflections led to some half-baked philosophy about people crying poverty when the rest of us see none. This was not a Christmas memory! What the hell, Mohawk Valley Girl? So I skipped a line and jumped into the story I had intended to write, trusting to be able to clean it up later.

By the end of the day, I felt dissatisfied with what I had written. I felt certain there was a better blog post about that Christmas. And perhaps a Lame Post Friday post about comparative poverty or cheerfulness and fortitude. After work as I walked my dog, Tabby, I pondered my options, bearing in mind that I have rehearsal tonight and I was feeling more and more tired. I thought about writing about the walk I was taking. Then I thought about writing about why I could not publish the post originally intended.

And reading back over what I have written (I know, Truman Capote, it isn’t writing, it’s typing), I kind of like it. I will strive to be a little less tired on Tuesday.

I Just Write

How many different things can one blogger think of to say about not writing, that is the question. I know, you thought it was “To be or not to be,” but you were mistaken. It is Lame Post Friday and I am feeling even more lame than usual.

Hmm, that was not a bad first paragraph, or do I flatter myself? I would feel more comfortable about my future as a blogger if I had not just sat here staring at it for ten minutes unable to think of another thing to say. OK, I just said that to be dramatic. I’ve been blogging for three years and I intend to continue, lame post or not.

One accepts when one begins at a writer that some days will be better than others. At least, I accept that premise. There are those who claim that “you just write.” But we’ve covered “There is no such thing as Writer’s Block” before. And anyways, it’s Writer’s Blank.

Where was I? Oh yes, not writing and apparently unable to think of anything new to say about it. How embarrassing is that? This has been a pretty long dry spell. I mean, I have had some not terrible blog posts (or do I flatter myself?), but the novel remains at a standstill. I don’t know how good my last couple of magazine articles were. I may have had a couple of good lines in some letters and post cards I have written.

Oh hell, Cindy, just end it and get off stage. This post is lame. Try again tomorrow.

And looking back, I’m not sure how good the first paragraph was either.