Tag Archives: writing

About That Play…

Posted on February 16, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

When we last left our hero (um, that’s me) (I went masculine as gender neutral, because I did not want to refer to myself as an illegal substance), she was about to stop writing her blog post and instead work on finishing a play she had started. OK, enough with the third person crap.

What I’m saying is, I did not write my post on breaks at work today, as I usually do. I trusted to last minute inspiration and my ability in the past to write something on the fly. Or is it off the cuff? I get my clothing metaphors confused.

It is, of course, Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy. I seem to recall mentioning yesterday that we should save the half-baked philosophy about finished works for Lame Post Friday. And here we are.

I find it sad but true when I read a novel or a play or even a magazine article that is not very good: my first thought is, I could do so much better. My second thought is, well, why didn’t you? One reason the worst novel in the world can get published over my deathless prose (I don’t really think it’s deathless; I just like that expression) is that that novel GOT FINISHED.

And here is some more half-baked philosophy: one can take the above thought two ways. It could be an inspiration to write more and concentrate on finishing. Or it can be a discouraging criticism: if you haven’t finished a damn play yet, you never will, give it up now!

Well, which way did you think I was going to take it? You know I like to keep my blog positive! So I spent my time before I had to start working and my break writing my play. Unfortunately, I dare not tell you anything about it, because it is a work in progress. It’s not that I fear my gentle readers will steal my ideas, but I do fear “helpful” criticism (and I am certain MY readers would never offer any other kind). More to the point, I fear that having talked about the play, I will no longer feel the need to write it. I told the story, it’s done. It can happen.

In fact, I think I’d better shut up now.

Happy Friday, everyone.

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Whatever Happened to Playwright Steve?

Posted on February 15, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Writing about What’s the Matter with Helen? and mentioning Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and the re-titled Whatever Happened to Cousin Charlotte? (remember, it became Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte) made me think about my husband Steven’s foray into thriller writing.

This happened when Steven was in junior high, well before he knew me and even well before I developed a taste (not to say obsession) for cheesy horror movies. And a quick disclaimer, I am laughing WITH my husband, not AT him. Indeed, I hope I poke good-natured fun at most of the movies I write about (except when I am taking them to task for spurious views on romance, like The Virgin Queen).

But I digress (well, why not digress on Non-Sequitur Thursday?). Getting on with the post, let us consider my husband’s play, What Happened to Millicent?

Steven had perhaps heard of Baby Jane and Sweet Charlotte, but had not seen them, and I don’t think Helen had even been made yet. Therefore no accusations of plagiarism can be leveled against him (unlike some of the plot points for some of the stories I wrote as a child and adolescent, but we’re not talking about me).

I think it’s pretty obvious that Steven had seen more television and movies than plays, because most of the scenes are about two minutes long and the set changes are quite elaborate. I don’t recall the whole plot, but Millicent disappears on the way to a dance. I think you hear a scream from behind a big rock.

In a later scene, Millicent’s sister Beverly is accused of doing away with Millicent. She immediately commits suicide, distraught at the accusation. We, the audience, know that Beverly is innocent, because we see her go behind the rock AFTER we hear the scream. Beverly sees her dead sister, screams, runs home and tells nobody. And apparently nobody else ever finds the body.

In the end (which I don’t scruple to tell you, since I doubt you will ever have an opportunity to read or see the play), we never find out what happens to Millicent. I believe it ends with a voice-over of the dead sister saying, “And whatever did happen to Millicent? No one will ever know.”

The play got a staged reading by some of Steven’s friends at a high school graduation party. They read it typos and all (the script had been hunt-and-pecked on a manual Smith Corona, just to inject a little history). The most notable of these was when one character threatened another with “Or eles!”

I must admit, Steven’s script had one quality that most of my efforts at novel and play writing have lacked: it was finished. That thought makes me want to leave this post unfinished and rush to finish the last play I was working on. Ironic, you say? I say, let’s save the half-baked philosophy for Lame Post Friday.

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Lame Verbiage

Posted on February 9, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Today’s Friday Lame Post is heavy on the half-baked philosophy.

I began to write a far different post. I started running Thursday and intended to write a post about that. My lead was dull. I said so. It went on from there as follows:

And now I sit, pen in hand, contemplating how sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. Maybe I should start a whole other blog about why I shouldn’t bother writing a blog. And by “bother,” I mean bother other people with my verbal meandering.

Note to self: does “verbal” only mean spoken or can it include the written word? It seems to me it should include writing, but I can only seem to recall hearing it used regarding spoken. I have no dictionary with me.

Well, that kept the pen moving for a while anyways. I’m re-reading Writing down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg (Shambhala Publications, 1986) and hence re-acquiring an appreciation for writing one does not intend to share. Practice writing, Goldberg calls it. Of course, I don’t do it the way she says to, never stopping the pen, not going back and re-reading, etc. I have NEVER been able to write without pausing and I have given up trying to make myself (and what a freeing decision that was!).

Full disclosure: As I write this, I picture myself typing it into my computer and publishing it as a blog post. What does that tell you?

Aha! I bet you thought that was a rhetorical question, but I am going to answer it. Writing is, for me, communication. I want to write for a reader.

That said, I understand editing. Whole sentences, paragraphs and posts will never see the light of day (the ether of the internet?) and rightly so. But as I write, I picture somebody reading it. I’m sure many writers do.

And then I stopped writing.

After I typed this nonsense into the computer, I looked up “verbal” in the dictionary (The American Heritage Dictionary, Delta, 1992). It has several meanings, only one of which is “spoken rather than written,” as in a verbal contract (which Sam Goldwyn famously said is not worth the paper it’s written on). It can also just mean having to do with words. But “verbiage,” I see, means wordiness, not specifying written or oral. I see this post is about 400 words. Plenty of verbiage for a Lame Post Friday. Have a good weekend, everyone!

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No Use Crying Over Lame Posts

Posted on February 2, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Well here we are once again on Lame Post Friday and I am feeling even more lame than usual (insert peanut gallery type remark of your choice here).

I do have just one thing written earlier this week, a random observation about an old cliche:

It’s no use crying over spilled milk.

I’m not crying because I think it’s going to HELP! I am having an honest emotional reaction to an upsetting event. Can you please cut me a small break? I will look for the paper towels in a minute.

The problem is: before making today’s post I checked out Facebook, as is my usual habit. What should I find but a link to another blog I follow about, you guessed it, crying over spilled milk. They do say great minds run around in the same circles (wait a minute, that is what I say; “they” put it a little differently).

Only, that post was not lame. It was a heartfelt essay about a new mother coping with real problems.

So now here I am writing a post about how inadequate I feel writing my Friday Lame Post.

Only, let’s be honest: I don’t feel any more inadequate today than any other day. For Heavens’ sake, I KNOW there are better writers than me and writers writing about more important things than I write about. It’s no reason to stop writing.

I typed that last sentence and then stopped. Just to put a little irony in your diet (one of my favorite jokes). I will close with the link to my friend’s post, so you can compare/contrast and discuss amongst yourselves. Happy Friday, everyone.

http://megactsout.blogspot.com/2013/02/crying-over-spilt-milk.html

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In My Defense, I’m Still Sick with a Cold

Posted on January 30, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

So there I was, with a perfectly innocuous Miss Marple movie I could write a blog post about, yet I was writing about a rather unsavory dream I had. My object was not psychoanalytical in nature but to disprove the notion that the ideas you wake up with in the middle of the night and forget are actually any good anyways.

This was when I realized how unsavory the dream actually was, and I thought, “Wait a minute! My mother reads this blog!”

This would make an excellent introduction to a discussion on self-censorship and how we really can’t worry about whom we offend. Look, I understand the Let It All Hang Out school of art as well as the next exhibitionist. But I also agree that for some things, there is a time and a place.

The place for my dream (oh, all right, it involved body parts and probably not in the way some of you are thinking) (you know who you are) is in my notebook, safely disguised by my messy handwriting, till I re-write and edit it till I feel it is ready for public consumption. Or it will stay in the notebook and rot while I go on to write something else, having learned what I can from that bit of nonsense.

So you can stop shaking your superior artist fingers at me. I read Writing Down the Bones. I know all about first thoughts and practice writing. I just don’t think I have to post every damn thing I write. Unfortunately, since I like to post something every day, I post a lot of what I write that perhaps some people think would be better off left in said notebook. Well, think what you like.

As my headline said, I am still suffering from a head cold. I’m fuzzy, I’m unhappy. I will cease to inflict myself upon you. Let’s try for Miss Marple again on Wednesday.

Side note: Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, in case you’ve never heard of it, is a very interesting book about writing and creativity. I recommend it.

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I’m Type O

Posted on January 26, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Well, it is Lame Post Friday and instead of my brain coming up with the usual random observations and half-baked philosophy, all I can think of is a spare post I wrote earlier this week.

You see, Monday was an awesome writing day. At least, an awesome writing morning. I wrote Monday’s post, then I wrote my “About” (you know how these blogs always have an “About” you can click on. Well, I think ever since my blog started, mine has said, “Put stuff here to tell people about your blog.” In the “About” I wrote I even mentioned how long it took me to write it. I try to be upfront about my writing shortcomings).

After “About” I went on to the next page and wrote a Middle-aged Musings. My plan for that was to put it under Drafts and publish it when I needed something. I even thought of a good title, “In Case of Emergency, Hit Publish.”

All this writing pretty much took up all my ambition for the week. I have not typed either the “About” or the ICOE draft into my computer. Which is really too bad, because I have a feeling that tonight I am going to wish I could just hit Publish. Let that be a lesson to me.

That is what I wrote on breaks at work. Then I went to give blood (a blood drive at my work) after, as it turns out, not enough food to eat. Oh, it was not pretty (cue unkind remarks about how I’m not particularly anyways). I have done dirt to myself this way before, but today it was bad enough that I seriously worried at least one co-worker. She made a guy call the boss, who called the nurse, and oh, I do not want to talk about it. I was strongly advised to NOT donate to future workplace blood drives.

So a draft post I had merely to publish would have been welcome. Instead I typed in what I wrote earlier, as it was shorter than said post, and I will hit Publish now. And, as usual, I will try to do better tomorrow. Happy Friday, everyone.

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Joan Crawford? Or a Shar Pei?

Posted on January 11, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I came up with that headline earlier in the week. The post I started to write for it wasn’t working out so well, so I thought I’d save it for Non Sequitur Thursday (my new favorite day).

Once again, I got nuthin’ (yes, it must be “nuthin'” not “nothing” and of course it’s “I got” not “I have,” what are you people thinking?).

In my defense, I’m in pain. It’s the sinuses again. January thaw be damned!

I do have a question. Why do people always make up names of their friends or relatives when they write do “Dear Abby” and when they do, why do they feel it is necessary to tell us they are doing so? Suppose I had a problem with Sally at work. Well, in the first place I would be unlikely to write to “Dear Abby,” because I think she gives stupid advice since the daughter started writing it. Come to think of it, the original Abby sometimes gave dumb advice too.

And once again, Non Sequitur Thursday veers into Stream of Consciousness Thursday.

By the way, I rarely have problems with anybody at work and when I do I go to other co-workers to let off steam and/or get advice. These things usually blow over, I’ve found.

I am pushing myself through this day one painful minute at a time (seventy-nine more to go) (That’s actually not true. It’s eighty, but I thought seventy-nine would be funnier) (Perhaps I should have waited till it was actually seventy-nine; who can thrash out these moral dilemmas?).

And that’s what I wrote on the final break at work. It seems a touch surreal now, saying there are 79 or 80 minutes left at work, now that I am out of work and at home typing it into my computer. But my head still hurts, I got nuthin’ else.

Actually, there are two or three more paragraphs I wrote at work, but I see no reason to inflict any more on you nice people. How many sick days is a blogger allowed? Call this my first one for 2013. Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

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No, I Don’t Have a Plan

Posted on January 8, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I must check to be certain, but I believe last week I eschewed Non Sequitur Thursday, Lame Post Friday (cue jokes about all my posts being somewhat lame) and Wrist to Forehead Sunday. So today is Middle-aged Musings Monday, and anybody who doesn’t like it should stop reading now.

I’m not sure I like it much myself, now that I’m writing it, but I shall persevere. And I shall continue to refer to myself as middle-aged, because there is no reason to think that I will not live to be 98 years old (I can see some of you doing the math now; I had to). After all, I quit smoking, I exercise regularly and I only occasionally eat deep fried foods (at first I made a typo and said occaSINally. A Freudian slip? You be the judge).

Be that as it may, I have been musing over my life lately. I thought perhaps to use this post to outline a grand plan for at last getting organized and accomplishing my life’s goals, after first setting a few. Mind you, I do not actually have such a plan. I had hoped that if I started writing about it, one would magically appear, much the same way characters and plot points magically appear when I write fiction.

Then I remembered what a truly terrible idea it is to share plans of any kind with anybody. I have been more likely to meet with discouragement than otherwise. Career plans get, “Those jobs are hard to get” or “You need a lot of education for that.” Novel ideas get, “That’s been done,” often with an eye roll. General life organization plans get, “Will you actually do that?”

Does this happen to anybody else or is it just me? I suppose it is possible that all my plans happen to be stupid. Well, one can’t be good at everything. Maybe I’m just not good at having a plan.

I do seem to recall once meeting with a not discouraging response to a plan. I said I was going to write a romance novel, and the fellow I was talking with said, “Oh, are you thinking of writing?” in a casually interested tone of voice, as if it were not a completely ridiculous ambition.

“I’m always thinking of writing,” I said. “I’m just never writing.”

I never did write the romance novel, by the way, although I worked on one for a while. I would dress in a fancy nightgown with high heels and sip water from a champagne flute while I wrote. I later learned that many romance novelists work in sweats, drinking coffee out of a ceramic mug like a normal person. I think my way is more fun.

I’m still always thinking about writing. But now, thanks to the internet, I actually write every day (as you see). I think for a writer, a blog is a beautiful thing. I’m sure there are people out there ready to say things like, “You need to write more than just a blog to be a writer” or “There are so many people writing blogs, you’ll never amount to anything” or even “You blog isn’t really very good, you know.”

OK, nobody has been rude enough to say the last thing to me, and I think I said the first one to myself. And the person that said the middle one didn’t EXACTLY say I’d never amount to anything.

But let us not give ear to discouraging sayings. Let us make our plans, write our novels and our blogs, and feel good about it. It’s Monday. We have a whole week ahead of us. Let’s enjoy it (Oh, I can just hear somebody saying, “It’s not a WHOLE week; we’ve already had Sunday and Monday, you know.” Some people just have to be that way).

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I Plan to Be Spontaneous

Posted on December 29, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

After yesterday’s silly post, I feel a little sheepish having Lame Post Friday. However, since I got nuthin’ else, I’ll see what I can come up with.

I did have one thought about my Friday Lame Post. As I prepared to drive to work early this morning, I wondered what I might find to write about during the course of the day, since I arose this morning with nothing. Then I remembered a comment on another Friday Lame Post, advising me that one could not be random on a schedule. I had to acknowledge the truth of that statement, then the little devil on my shoulder said, “Today I planned to be spontaneous.”

Well, that is just the kind of oxymoron I enjoy (being all different kinds of moron myself). I’m only sorry I can’t come up with more of them for this post. However, let’s get on with my planned spontaneity at least.

Have you ever noticed, when somebody says, “I hate to rain on your parade,” it is almost always a lie. They LOVE to rain on your parade! They think it’s great that they know something that you don’t and it will ruin whatever you were planning/hoping/thinking. And, you know what, it’s usually not even a parade anyways. It is often something very mundane and by calling it your parade they have disparaged you twice. Or am I being too sensitive?

I just remembered that I had been going to philosophize half-bakedly on why I wanted to repeat myself in yesterday’s post. I sure do hate to rain on anybody’s parade who was waiting for that. Just kidding! I actually felt very mean for putting that, but I kind of also felt like I had to (come to think of it, that might be something else to philosophize about, half-bakedly, of course).

To set the record straight, I was going to repeat myself yesterday because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Hmmm… not very philosophical, was it? Perhaps Pouring My Art Out was right and one can’t philosophize on cue.

By the way, that was who commented, pouringmyartout.wordpress.com. I really don’t spend enough time reading other blogs, because, you know, some of them are really cool.

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Can’t Give You Anthing But Lame

Posted on December 22, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

What a dithery week I’m having.

I had meant to continue my Christmas Carol Commentary today. I even had a couple of paragraphs written. I thought, “Don’t do Lame Post Friday right after Non Sequitur Thursday.” And here it is Friday and it seems I can’t be anything but lame.

I have said in the past that I don’t suffer so much from Writer’s Block as from Writer’s Blank. My head feels like a big, empty wasteland. Well, today I think it’s Block. My head feels like a concrete wall. Nothing is getting through.

Possible reason for this phenomenon:

I got some “likes” for my posts earlier this week, and at least one new follower. What if they read my next post and DON’T LIKE IT AS MUCH? What a disaster!

Oh, I know it’s not really a disaster and logically, nobody will like each post equally as well as all others. But I think many writers can identify with the fear that we will not be good enough. After all, better to be silent and let the world think you’re a fool than to write a blog post and remove all doubt.

Actually, I guess that ship sailed with the first post: everybody knows I am something of a fool. I might postulate that most writers are fools: we put our words out there and think somebody, somewhere might want to read them. And you know what, maybe we’re not such fools after all. I like to read what people write. I’m thinking you do too, because, you know, here you are.

One of the best excuses for a lame post is, at least it’s short. Happy Friday, everyone.

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