Tag Archives: writing

Kind of a Time Warp

I had intended to have all posts about Halloween movies till Halloween night. I have plenty of material to work with, thanks to TCM and the miracle of DVR. Well, I was working on it, and let me tell you, my post on The Tingler is getting scary and not in a good way.

On the brighter side, I noticed yesterday on my computer that WordPress seems to be twelve hours ahead of me. Thus yesterday, when I wrote about Cat People, was Halloween. Today I can go on to November, or as the retail world seems to think, Christmas. I was thinking I could post this silliness tomorrow on Lame Post Friday, when I realized, according to WordPress, THAT’S TODAY!

However, as I wrote the preceding earlier, before beginning my shift at work, it was (and still is as I type this) Thursday. Non-Sequitur Thursday, in fact (if you saw me trying to rearrange the paragraphs of my Tingler post using asterisks, you would agree that it is). I was and still am having an indecisive day. I had to flip a coin to decide whether to drink coffee or water as I was writing before work (drinking both was ineligible for reasons I will not go into here).

I wrote more while at work, but it was fairly tiresome. There was one parenthetical comment I rather liked, but I can’t figure out how to fit it in now. At any rate, I am over 200 words. I deem that respectable. I will continue to work on my post about The Tingler and eventually publish it, regardless of the day WordPress or the calendar say it is.

I Declare a Day Off

So I was all apologetic about, what was is? five foolish posts last week. And here I am NOT writing a real post today. And I don’t care!

It is not Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I am actually having a pretty good day. I went running this morning and took Tabby for a walk (in addition to our usual cool-down)(yes, both potentially bloggable activities). I did the dishes (not so bloggable, but in a pinch…). I am cooking potato soup (definitely bloggable; I invented the recipe). Oh, and I watched not one but two cheesy movies yesterday. My possibilities are endless!

And I say to hell with it! I’m taking another day off! Just because I want to! And I’ll use just as many exclamation points as I feel like!

So go ahead, shake your finger at me or point and laugh, according to your inclination. I’m going back to stirring my soup and enjoying my day. I hope you are enjoying yours as well.

Curse You, Christopher Lee!

I wrote that headline in the midst of writing this post, and I like it so much I’m going to use it, even though it is not really indicative of the post as a whole. Let’s just say we’re having a non-sequitur moment.

Well, here I am on Lame Post Friday, perched on a stool in my kitchen, writing in a notebook (the spiral-bound paper kind, not a computer) while onions cook and garlic breathes.

While at work today (on breaks, as you know), I worked on my novel and on a blog post which is becoming increasingly unwieldy. It is about a Christopher Lee horror movie. I do love writing about movies, but I always seem to have so much to say. I’ve been working on this one all week. I keep turning a page to work on something else, then going back to the post and leap-frogging to the next clean page. I’m getting a little confused.

And a little embarrassed. Earlier this week, I wrote about how I could not write a particular post, then went back the next day and wrote that post. Now it seems I am doing the same thing with Christopher Lee.

Oh well, these are the choices I make. I like to post every day and only seem able to accomplish this end with an increasing number of very foolish posts. As always, I strive for improvement. This week I believe I had… (counting in my head; too impatient to actually go back and check) five out of six foolish posts so far. What a wretched record! I have no place to go but up.

Does This Ever Happen to You?

Sometimes I don’t know why I (a) write this blog, (b) tell people that I write it and especially (c) share the link on Facebook, practically begging people to read it. What the hell’s wrong with me?

A calmer voice in my head reminds me that art and especially writing is all about communication. If I’m going to create something, this line of reasoning goes, why not put it out there?

A mean, nasty voice in my head sneers, “Art? What do you mean art? Do you think what you do is art?”

And then I start to wonder if I really ought to be sharing information about hearing voices in my head.

What prompts this… soul searching? hair tearing? wrist to foreheading?… is a post I am trying to write about the Mohawk Valley Center for the Arts. I mentioned on their Facebook page that I am writing one. Now all I can think is that it’s going to sound stupid and should I mention this or that and OH MY GOD, I have to write it now, somebody might be waiting to read it!

Or do I flatter myself?

I don’t know if this happens to other people, but sometimes I start to write about something and realize I am telling everything and it may not be all that interesting to everybody else. And sometimes as I write it becomes a good deal less interesting to me. Or I experience other resistance, usually along the lines of, “You can’t say THAT!” or “I just don’t feel like writing about this,” neither of which ought to be given the weight they seem to demand.

I first tried to write the piece in my usual personal fashion, sharing all my dithery gyrations in getting there (my computer is telling me “dithery” is not a word, but it is exactly what I mean). I was afraid it would go too long and really be too much about me, so I tried editing as I went with no great success. Next I tried a straightforward news release style. After all, I worked in the newspaper business. I understand the inverted pyramid. Moreover, I read newspapers regularly. I ought to have internalized the structure by now. I got two paragraphs written, and they were no great shakes.

In desperation, I went to another page of my notebook and wrote, um, what you just read (oh dear, I HOPE somebody is still reading). It will have to stand as a Monday Middle-aged Musing. I will somehow get the Arts Center post done. Stay tuned.

Wrist Not On Forehead

Well, I told you it was going to be Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I know some of you thought I would feel a little bad about so many foolish posts in a row and write something more better. Well.

In my defense, I woke up with the same headache, after being plagued all night with it, I might add. I must say I felt a little ill used. These things usually don’t last that long. I took a different OTC headache remedy today. It seemed to work a little better, but I felt quite drained and light-headed.

I don’t know why I’m going on about my symptoms. How boring. Oh yeah, it’s Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I am expected to kvetch about my many ills on such a day.

Only I don’t feel particularly wrist to forehead at the moment. You see, it is my 23rd wedding anniversary, and I happen to have the best husband. Whatever stupid life decisions I have made (most of them; I may have mentioned that), marrying my Steven is the best decision I ever made.

We have been celebrating ever since he got home some three hours ago. Then I remembered I had not made my blog post. Before he got home, when I was still feeling quite drained and lightheaded, I almost made a two sentence post reading: I’m not making a blog post today! It’s my wedding anniversary! Would that have been better? Discuss amongst yourselves.

Did I Mention I Have a Headache?

I started to write a post about a wonderful Mohawk Valley adventure Steven and I had last night. I was writing it at the laundromat, not exactly an adventure, but in the Mohawk Valley so I technically could have written about that. The writing was not going well, because I have one of those debilitating headaches I get sometimes.

I thought no problem, I have all day. A nap will probably fix me right up. It did not. Steven came home from work at 2:30. A cup of coffee would no doubt help. It did not. We went to the Ilion Farmer’s Market anyways, yes, something else I could write a post about. But I still have a headache.

We came home. I fixed supper, which I suppose I could write about, but it was a mere recombination of leftovers in a not especially innovative way. Still, when has that stopped me? Unfortunately, you see, there’s this headache.

So I guess it’s a blogger’s sick day, because I’m not even up to writing about how I can’t seem to write, another subject I have often gotten a post out of.

Many years ago I wrote a paper for a Shakespeare class in which I kept saying things I could have gotten into, but the paper was not long enough. The professor wrote a note that he found it frustrating that all I kept talking about what I wasn’t going to talk about. He still gave me an A on the paper, so you see, I have a long history of being rewarded for folly. I hope to see you again on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

Heard It Through The Grapevine

There are days I don’t suffer from Writer’s Block, I suffer from Show It To Anybody Block. This sometimes takes the form of Write It And Cross It Out, but other times the words sit in my notebook, staring at me accusingly. “How could you write such a thing?” or “You’re not going to SHOW this to anybody are you?” or, more often, “What kind of a chicken-shit are you that you can write a thing and never let it see the light of day?”

I must be a writer. Even my words have words!

So you may have guessed, it is Non-Sequitur Thursday, better known as another excuse to write a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. The thing is: I WROTE today! I started three different blog posts! I just can’t seem to finish any of them.

One of many memorable lines is the movie The Big Chill is, “I’m not hung up on completion.” It is said rather defensively, and in general I agree. It is usually a good idea to finish what we start. In my case that would include blog posts, novels and cleaning my closet. I probably could come up with some good half-baked philosophy about why it’s good to finish things or even why it is SOMETIMES a good thing not to. However, half-baked philosophy is for Lame Post Friday.

So, at the risk of being sequential on Non-Sequitur Thursday, I offer another apology for a foolish post. Still, I may have entertained. I may have offered an excuse for somebody to feel some superiority. Remember, no life is wasted. You can always stand as a bad example.

Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

More Lighthearted than Literary

I’m having a Middle-aged Musings Monday and I’m not apologizing for it (I say a little defensively).

I actually had very little to muse about. However, I have the habit of picking up a book while I wait for my computer to boot up. Right now it’s A Writer’s Diary by Virginia Woolf (Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, New York, 1953). Today I came across the following: “Writing is not in the least an easy art. Thinking what to write, it seems easy; but the thought evaporates, runs hither and thither.”

And here we come to the ugly truth about me. For me thinking about what to write is never easy. My mind runs hither and thither or else seems to have evaporated. However, once I manage to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, words come out. It’s easy!

OK, all together now: Cindy, you’re no Virginia Woolf.

I actually say it with no feelings of shame or inferiority. I adore Virginia Woolf, admire her writing intensely, don’t know why I don’t read more of it. Could I write like Virginia Woolf? Or rather, could I write more betterly than what I do? Could I be admired by the snobby intellectuals? Would my stuff eventually be read by students of literature with varying degrees of loathing, envy or mystification?

I’m thinking not. I’m thinking I am more lighthearted than literary, and I don’t mind that a bit. We all write what we can. If I could only write more than what I do, publish and get paid for some of it, well, I would be exactly the kind of writer I aspire to be.

Is It Really the Size of Manhattan?

You knew I was going to have another Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

At least, perhaps not every reader thought that. Perhaps some expected better of me. Perhaps some merely hoped. And perhaps it is the height of egotism to believe that anybody thinks about me at all. Well, I often say, there are worse things than having an ego the size of Manhattan.

Where was I?

I had a weekend away. I believe I mentioned it. I may have mentioned that I cleverly wrote blog posts in advance and used that handy function the nice WordPress people provide to set them to be published with no further effort on my part (cue unkind remarks on how little effort I seemed to have put into the posts up to that point). I have spent the last few hours asking myself why, or why, did I not write, type in and schedule to be published one more itty bitty post?

The answer is not far to seek. Posts are not that easy to come by, even some of the ridiculous crap I write. Some mental effort is needed, even for today’s self-indulgent folly. And you know what, a cup of coffee is not always the miracle cure I’m hoping for.

So, preview of coming attractions: I went to Vermont. I hit a couple of attractions. I went running a couple of times. I made a few observations on two three-hour long car rides. The material is there somewhere.

In the meantime, I just thought I’d make one more silly post about Why I Can’t Write a Post. As always, I crave your indulgence.

Come On, Friday!

What a terrible blogging day! And not just because of my writing tribulations. Technology has got me down!

I wrote something while at work today (I really feel I must say each time that it was on a break, although I don’t imagine any management types read this blog) (still, you never know) (six degrees of Cindy’s blog?).

Where was I? Ah yes, wrote something at work. It wasn’t very good. Still, it was words. I could have published it. That is, I could have published it if I could have gotten it typed in at my desk top. Unfortunately, my desk top decided to act up.

It has been doing that a lot lately. It gets rrrreeeeaaaallllyyyy ssslllloooooooowwwww. And then it stops. Yeah, kind of like my writing some days.

So I got quite frustrated and stopped trying. I came downstairs and got on our Netbook. That works a lot better. Unfortunately, it is not so good for typing. The keyboard is much smaller than I am used to. You are reading this (oh dear I HOPE somebody is still reading!) and it probably looks pretty OK. That is, if I have caught all the typos I have made with my FAT fingers.

And just now I hit SOMETHING that made this whole thing disappear. I luckily found it under Drafts. WordPress is really a very good site. Hmm, maybe some readers feel it is less than lucky that I found it.

Anyways, will all this trauma, I am not up to perking up the less than stellar stuff I wrote earlier. I can only try to come up with a somewhat catchy title and have another Non-Sequitur Thursday.

Oh well, maybe it’s not catchy. Maybe catching, like a virus. Oh dear.