Tag Archives: writing

What, Bloggers Don’t Get Holidays?

Merry Christmas Eve, to all my readers, regular and irregular (you know who you are).

It’s Tuesday, but it feels like Saturday, because I have the day off;, it feels like Sunday, because I’m very wrist-to-foreheady; and it feels like Friday, because I’m about to do an extremely lame post (and what does my computer mean by telling me “wrist-to-foreheady” is not a word? You all know what I mean, don’t you?).

My current stress is really all my fault, because of my silly obsession with posting every day. Not all bloggers post every day. Some post weekly or three times a week or just when they darn well feel like it.

Full disclosure: I don’t really feel all that stressed. I love Christmas Eve; it is my favorite day of the year. I confess to a certain… urgency. I want to post this before I have to finish loading the SUV and run a couple of errands before picking up my dear husband at his not-so-dear job (YES! We’re happy he has a job in this economy; doesn’t mean it couldn’t be a little better in some respects) (ooh, that might form the basis of some half-baked philosophy for when it really is Lame Post Friday).

I don’t have to finish it right now. We are going to my parents’ house and I could happily make my blog post from there; I’ve done it before. Only by then I will want to sit in the kitchen, eating good food and making silly jokes with everybody.

You know, it really is great fun to sit here at the computer typing nonsense. Who invented this blogging thing? I must send that person a thank you note.

Ooh, almost 300 words. That’s quite respectable. I’ll try to say something less nonsensical tomorrow. Then again, it will be Christmas.

Wrist to Zamboni?

Oh, thank heaven for Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Yes, I’ve been spending all day NOT doing my blog post. I’ve thought about it at odd times (cue jokes about me being odd at all times), but with no real idea of what I should write about. I did a few things on Saturday, but can I make the effort to write about them today? Um, no.

In my defense, it’s almost Christmas. I’ve been baking cookies, making treats and wrapping presents. And I took my dog for a lovely walk. I felt a little guilty about that. It was a beautiful warm, gloomy day such as I enjoy, and other parts of the state are suffering ice storms and power outages. Then again, it’ll happen to us sooner or later.

I’ve been on the go since six this morning. Did you know that other people had the bright idea to shop at that hour? They weren’t so bad, but did you know that large stores clean the floor with a zamboni kind of a thing at that hour? I felt a little ill used: in a store of that size, one would have thought I would once in a while go down the aisle the zamboni is NOT in. Not so much.

But it’s all good. I have one more day of work, then vacation. I have a lot of my wrapping and treat-making done. I have a few good things to write about, once I surgically remove my wrist from my forehead. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Friday Night Lame

So I have NOT written my blog post yet at 6:16 on this Lame Post Friday evening.

6:16 by the clock on my stove. I am perched on a stool, watching sausage, pepper and onion cook in a cast iron frying pan. I dare not leave the room. I must be here to stir at need.

Steven is due home in a short time. At least, I’m sure it will be longer than I want it to be. Retail employees sometimes find difficulties in leaving on time. No matter, it seems dinner will not be ready precisely as planned.

It is fortunate that I only require a lame post of myself today. I tried, tried, tried to write something at work. Nothing doing. Blame it on the season? Cop to it as an occupational hazard? Demand credit for At Least Trying? In any case, I crave your indulgence (isn’t that an elegant phrase? I rather enjoyed it).

As usual, I hope for at least one Mohawk Valley adventure this weekend. Or I may sit on my butt watching Christmas movies and crocheting frantically. Whatever happens, I will report back. Happy Friday, everybody.

Full disclosure: As I typed in that it was 6:16 and I was perched on a stool, stirring, it was in fact, closer to 6:40 and I was slouched in an office chair, typing. I knew that would happen. It just felt weird. Me and my strange obsession with accuracy.

Once Again, I Say Too Much

While this is a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today, it is not another lament about Writer’s Block or Writer’s Blank or whatever it is I suffer from. It is a mere statement of practical considerations.

I have been Christmas shopping and plan to do more. Of course I love to plug local businesses, and this is a grand opportunity to give a few shout-outs. However, SOME people who MIGHT be receiving presents from me may POSSIBLY read this post.

Someone may suggest that I be cagey, mention the store but not the item. I could do like my Mom does and say, “I got you a … and a …” Well, my family is pretty clever. If I mention the store, they may guess the item. In fact, already I’ve said too much.

Additionally, I think it makes a better post if I tell what I purchased. It is the sort of concrete detail that makes the writing ring true. Or do I flatter myself?

My original plan was to not give presents this year. I was going to send each person a lovely handwritten note reading: “Dear (name), No present this year. You were bad. Love, Cindy Claus.” I eventually decided against it, because my handwriting is not all that good, and it really is not the sort of thing you would want to type. Perhaps a nice counted cross stitch, although I am also not very deedy in that respect (my computer is telling me “deedy” is not a word, and I cannot find it in the dictionary, but I am certain I’ve seen it used in a book) (it was a Regency Romance, so perhaps it is an archaic term)(how old must something be to be to be archaic?) (yeah, yeah, I know, how old am I — must you make such obvious jokes?).

Where was I? Ah yes, trying not to give away what I am getting people for Christmas. In pursuit of that object, I’ll shut up now.

Put Another Lame on the Fire

Um, you guys get that, right? You know, like “put another log on the fire”? Oh well, one does one’s poor best.

So it is Lame Post Friday and I am even more lame than usual. And I’m working under a deadline, because World’s Dumbest comes on at six (it’s 5:46 as I type this), and I would really like a glass of wine. However, don’t drink and type (oh, like one glass of wine would make me substantially more lame than I am the rest of the time!).

All day at work today, I thought about writing (while still getting my work done, OF COURSE). I alternately pondered what to write on my blog and where to go next on my novel. I came to no conclusions on either one. I’m in a tighter corner on the novel, though. One character has another by the scruff of the neck, and I have no idea who it is. That is, the one being held by the hoodie. I know who’s doing the holding.

Oh dear, now I’ve said too much. I try not to talk too much about the novel I’m working on. It never helps, and it only makes me look more foolish when I don’t finish that novel. Of course, silence does not come naturally to me (see Monday’s post) (you’ll have to arrow back; I’m on the acer, and I don’t know how to make a link)(oh, I’ll save you the trouble if you missed it, it was just about how much I talk, which is a lot).

Where was I? Ah yes, having said too much. Luckily, I see my word count is now over 250, a respectable length for me. On with the weekend! I even have time to pour the wine before I tune into TruTV.

Why This is Not a Movie Post

I’m not giving up Wrist to Forehead Sunday, you can’t make me.

That previous sentence should have a semi-colon instead of a comma, but sometimes I regard punctuation as much art as science. The Punctuation Police and the Grammar Guardians can ding me all they like, because I am usually quite correct about these things.

Regular readers will realize I was too ill yesterday to partake in any Mohawk Valley adventures. Today I feel slightly less crappy but not yet un-crappy. Anyways, Sunday is almost always an off day for me.

Yesterday I watched a Hammer Studios film and today a Bela Lugosi movie. I could write about either one, only it also seems that I can’t. You know how I always put a Spoiler Alert. Well, the things I would be apt to talk about for these movies goes beyond spoiler and into “Well, why don’t you just tell us the whole damn movie while you’re at it!” These are things astute movie viewers may see coming (I did), but there is still an element of, “Wait a minute, it could be that…” The satisfaction is in saying, “I thought so!” and not “I read about that in a blog!”

You know, I’ve said too much already. Now I am afraid viewers will say, “What did she see coming… ah yes! Of course!” Instead of letting it unfold in front of them.

Or am I being silly? That, of course, is always a possibility. In any case, I see my word count is over 250 words. Quite respectable for typing with one wrist on my forehead (oh, OK, that’s only figuratively)(metaphorically?). I hope to see you on Middle-aged Musings Monday.

Timing Is Everything

This is unusual. I just sat here for

Oh dear. I was about to write “at least five minutes,” when I looked at my watch and knew that it had only been three minutes. “Almost five minutes”? Lie and say that it was five minutes? We call that literary license in this business. Sometimes we call it fiction.

At any rate, I was paralyzed. Then I had to laugh at myself for being paralyzed. And naturally I started to write about it. Well, it got the pen moving at any rate.

Perhaps for the rest of the post I could ponder my obsession with time. I may have mentioned it before, in which case, sorry for repeating myself. A roommate in the army noticed my obsession. She pointed out that I knew it took seven minutes to walk to the chow hall. A “normal” person, I suppose, would say “five” or “ten” or even “five-ten.”

I’m sorry to be didactic (not real sorry, because, you know, go with your strengths), but five minutes and ten minutes are two different lengths of time. These things are important when one dare not be as much as .1 (yes, I said point one) seconds late for formation. And they are important for time-obsessed neurotics like me.

A junior high health teacher (or was it high school?) (was it even Health?) (what is with this accuracy obsession?) said we all have our little neuroses. Sometimes we call it a quirk or a Thing or a pet peeve (no, I am not looking in a thesaurus as I write this).

My main Thing right now (ooh, I just flashed on Thing One and Thing Two from The Cat in the Hat) is that I must publish a blog post every day, no matter how foolish. This has been today’s. I hope you enjoyed it.

All I Gots

I warned you that you may have to listen to me kvetch about my symptoms. Yesterday I wussed out for Wednesday, hoping to do better today, Non-Sequitur Thursday. Well, the cold is becoming a full-blown head monstrosity (seriously, my head feels like it is turning into a monster)(cue unkind remarks about how I normally look pretty much like a monster anyways).

I confess, I came to my computer with the intention of making a three sentence post calling in sick (typing in sick?). And while I waited for WordPress to boot up, some half-baked philosophy popped into my head. I know that is usually reserved for Lame Post Friday, but I think I’ve gone Friday on a Thursday before and considered it non-sequiturish (I know that’s not a word, computer, you don’t have to underline it for me). Anyways, it’s all I gots right now.

Sometimes we only want the end result. For example, right now I do not feel like taking a shower. However, I want to feel warm, clean and cuddly in my sweats. That will not happen without the application of soap and water. For another example, I loathe getting out of bed in the morning. However, I like being up early. I have had runs that I have not enjoyed, but I have been happy that I ran.

Countless writers confess that they despise the act of writing, but they love to have written. Regular readers may recall me saying that this is not the case for me. I love to write. Right now, for example. Earlier I sat in my living room, ready to cry, but too dehydrated due to my cold (although I am drinking plenty of liquids). I wanted nothing but to lie perfectly still, perhaps having magically attained the warm, clean, cuddly feeling without the trauma of a hot shower. And I wanted my blog post To Be Written. However, now I am sitting at my keyboard, merrily typing away.

But I can’t keep it up indefinitely. I need to put my head down. Maybe drink a little herbal tea. And ponder what I can write on Lame Post Friday now that I’ve used up my half-baked philosophy for the week. I hope you’ll stay tuned.

A Weary Wuss

Wuss-out Wednesday is getting to be a habit. In my defense, I’m tired.

Yesterday I avoided writing a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post by going for a run and writing about that. Today I’m too tired to run.

My husband, Steven, has spent the first half of this week fighting a cold. At last it seems he is victorious. And now it looks like my turn to suffer. So my lovely blog readers have that to look forward to: me kvetching about my symptoms. So far the main symptom is I’m TIRED!

Other people can write when they are tired. I bet some people are reading this with a smug look, saying, “I can write when I’m tired. It’s not that hard.” Well, THAT’S NICE FOR YOU!

We were at the laundromat earlier this evening, where I wrote a page on my novel. It was not a very good page, perhaps, but at least I wrote it. I’m tempted to use that as my reason: I used up all my words for the day on that! How can I be expected to write a blog post as well?

I know, it doesn’t work like that. It’s not a bucket, where you take stuff out and then it’s gone. It’s more a river: as you take stuff out even more flows in to take its place. Well, my river today is full of sediment (give me a metaphor, I’ll beat it till it screams).

I think the best thing to do is to take my weary body to bed and hope it’s only bluffing about coming down with a cold. I hope to come up with something more amusing for Non-Sequitur Thursday.

To Encourage? Or Just to Blog?

A friend of mine recently posted on Facebook, “To blog or not to blog, that is the question.” I replied, “To blog! Always to blog!”

The sad part to me is that I seem to be the only one to have said to. Perhaps she does not have enough Writing Friends on Facebook. I count on my writing friends to encourage me. Sometimes my non-writing friends encourage me as well.

Oh dear, I feel a bout of half-baked philosophy coming on. That is for Lame Post Friday and today is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Oh well, as I often observe, sometimes I can only write what I do. So I’ll just get on with it.

We all need encouragement at one time or another (don’t pretend you don’t; we won’t believe you). However, there is a school of thought that encouragement is not always the best thing. Some people, this school of thought goes, should cut their losses and stop striving for what they will never achieve. An example they point to is Zelda Fitzgerald, who apparently drove herself crazy with the physical demands of her quest to become a prima ballerina at the age of thirty-something.

I say this is too complicated a question to get into on Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I’m going to cut to the chase, answer the original question with “To blog,” and hit publish. Anybody got a problem with that?