Tag Archives: Writers Blank

Hmmmm… Who Do I Kill?

It’s supposed to be easy to write a post on Lame Post Friday; that’s why I invented it. But we all know, sometimes, not so much. Oh, I know, as soon as I say “we all” or “everybody” or anything universal, SOMEBODY is sure to say, “I don’t know that” or “I don’t feel that way” or “Not necessarily.” Well, I don’t know exactly how to spell the raspberry sound, and truth be known, I almost never make that noise anyways, so, OK, if you want to say any of those things, I’ll let it slide. This time.

Where was I? Oh yes, nowhere. I did not write anything at work today. I don’t feel capable of writing anything now. It’s not Writer’s Blank, it’s not Writer’s Block, it’s not Writer’s Anything, because I don’t feel like I’m a writer any more.

Oh dear, I didn’t mean to say that. But since I did, I may as well share my current crisis, because, actually, I think it’s kind of funny. You see, I’m writing this murder mystery, and I don’t want to kill any of my characters. I like them all. And it’s not only that, I keep thinking how upset certain other characters will be if I kill off that one. Oh, or that one. I’ve even changed my mind about the murderer at least twice.

Writers who outline and stick to their outlines are now indulging in superior laughing, finger pointing and head shaking. Oh, like YOU never have problems! I’ve argued with these imaginary superior sorts before. Even when I win, I lose.

OK, I’m over 250 words. Lame, but done. I’m going to hit Publish and get on with my weekend. May your Friday be un-lame and your weekend be happy.

Curse You, Vincent Price!

What is it about Vincent Price? I start to write a perfectly straightforward post about one of his movies and I get all bogged down and confused and it takes me days to get it right.

At least, the one I started today hasn’t taken me days yet, but I can see which way the wind is blowing. First it was The Tingler. Now it’s The Mad Magician. What’s a blogger to do but write about the problems she’s having writing. (I didn’t end that last sentence with a question mark, because it is rhetorical. I don’t need any smart answers from the peanut gallery.)

After all, I avoided Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I think I’m entitled to a Middle-aged Musings Monday. I shall muse about my trials and tribulations as a writer.

The problem I had with The Tingler and am having with The Mad Magician is neither Writer’s Block nor Writer’s Blank. It’s quite the opposite. I have too much to say (some people think I have too much to say at all times, but I daresay they don’t read my blog, so we need not consider them).

Usually, having too much to say is not a problem. I just write and write till it’s all said. I find that fun. In this case, however, my thoughts do not flow in a logical fashion. I start out talking about pre-movie commentary, jump to the plot, jump back and add in the spoiler alert, remember something I forgot from the commentary, go off on a whole other tangent.

Some may say that’s still no problem. Just write it all down they say, perhaps in a condescending, overly patient voice (you know who you are). Sort it out later. Well, that is what I’m doing. However, these things take time and effort and a good deal more oomph that I can generally muster on a Monday.

I repeat, what’s a blogger to do?

Not That Clever

I quite frankly thought I could get a couple more blog posts out of my gyrations on Saturday, but as I sit here on Tuesday trying to write a post to publish on Wednesday, I feel myself succumbing to the dreaded Writer’s Blank.

And just as I was realizing I couldn’t be too blank since I had just written a paragraph, my break ended and I had to go back to work. By the next break I was blank again. What’s that all about?

I did a lot of running around on Saturday. I hit the Mohawk Valley Spring Bazaar, my church’s rummage sale, a consignment shop, an antique dealer, a thrift store, and the library. I left the grocery store for Sunday morning. If you go early enough, it isn’t very crowded.

As I planned my day, I had said to Steven, “Every stop is a blog post!”

It turns out, not so much. Well, I can’t always find something striking to purchase, have an amusing conversation with a clerk or even notice something memorable about the establishment. The sad truth is, I am not that clever.

So I guess I’m stuck with a Mid-Week Middle-aged Musing: It’s funny how you can run around all day and find yourself without anything to say about it (I probably could have made that rhyme, but I thought it might be too cute) (then, too, there is that not so clever thing).