Tag Archives: writing

Another Meandering Post

Last week I tried to write a post ahead, in case it was not easy to write a post during Fabulous Wine Tasting Weekend.   I ended up not using what I wrote, because I thought it needed to be edited and polished (I think I wrote a blog post about it).  Looking at it again, I feel it will work find for a Mental Meanderings Monday.  Here it is:

 

I ran Wednesday and thought to do a running commentary.  My inner monologue as I ran seemed interesting enough, to me anyways.

 

Of course the operative thing to do is to sit right down soon after the run and write the thing (YES, I shower first!  I said SOON after! Sheesh!)  That is my usual method, composing at the computer.  Today, however  (this was written Thursday), I am sitting in the break area at work before my shift starts, scribbling in a spiral notebook with a stolen pen (well, not exactly stolen; somebody left it sitting on a table.  Let’s call it purloined, which has the charm of alliteration).

 

I go on about this minutae, because I am fascinated by the mechanics of writing.  I think a lot of people are. Hence, the plethora of books about writing.  Of course, they don’t always tell me what I really want to know. When do you write?  Where do you write?  Pen, pencil or keyboard?  How long is a writing session?  And my biggest question:  How in a busy life do you carve out time to write and stick to it?

 

Regarding the last question, my growing suspicion is that a lot of writers don’t know exactly how they do it, and I make bold to suggest that a lot of them have the niggling guilty feeling that they are not doing it enough.  Most of them end with a huffy statement along the lines of, “If it’s important to you, you’ll do it.”

 

Yes, that’s all very well.  I find it more helpful to hear concrete suggestions such as, “Get up an hour earlier” and “Write on your lunch break.”  Some people intone “Time management” as if it is a magic elixir you can buy in a bottle that makes more hours appear in a day.  We all know it’s not that easy, and I appreciate the writer that acknowledges that fact.

 

Let’s look at the other advice about writing.  Many writing books say things like, “Find what works for you.”  Obviously.  In fact, I’d almost put that under the “Well, duh” category, except that there are some things the writing books say you ABSOLUTELY MUST DO.  There are always people who like to dictate as well as some techniques that work so well for so many people they take on the aura of a truism.

 

To take a non-writerly example: when you diet, only step on the scale once a week.  The idea  behind this is that you save yourself stressing over the one and two pound fluctuations that will happen to the best of us.  Most people are quite content to follow this advice and find that it works for them.  I personally step on the scale every day.  Those little one-pound gains you’re not supposed to stress over?  I take them as reminders to stay on the straight and narrow.  The one pound losses you also should not take too seriously?  Encouragement, which I need in spades.

 

So, yes, we must find and follow what works for us.  For example,  I find that it works for me to write a blog post every day, however silly it may turn out to be.  Ah, but an important part of that sentence is “I find.”  We must FIND OUT what works for us.  In that quest, I like to read other writers’ advice.  I do not always take the advice.  I hope nobody is offended.

 

And now I feel my mind has meandered enough.  Happy Monday, everybody.

 

Well, Of Course It’s Wrist to Forehead Sunday

Surely nobody thought I was going to have a really good post on the last day of Fabulous Wine Tasting Weekend (and I’ll call you Shirley if I feel like it).  I am back home, feeling relaxed and happy yet thoroughly unable to write.  I know from experience that is deceiving. I can write something.  It just might not be any good.

 

Some female members of my family met at my sister’s house in Liverpool,NY, and from there we drove to the Finger Lakes, where we stopped at various wineries.  It was a great deal of fun.  The weather was perfect, the scenery divine and the company top notch.  I took lots of notes.  I may write a few posts about my favorite wineries (preview of coming attractions).

 

Steven and Tabby met us in Liverpool Saturday evening.  This morning, after a lovely walk around my sister’s neighborhood (she went too, so I did not get lost) (see yesterday’s post), we drove back to Herkimer.  Tabby is sacked out.  One of my favorite TV shows, Snapped, is on all day.  Soon I shall begin making a pizza which will feature green, red, yellow and orange peppers.  Yum (may write a blog post about that) (more preview of coming attractions).

 

Amidst all this activity, relaxation and enjoyment, I just can’t write a real post.  Hence, despite my feelings  of contentment, my wrist is on my forehead.  I hope you are all having a lovely Sunday yourselves.

 

I Wouldn’t Call This Polished

So much for my idea of writing blog posts ahead (it worked for me before, dammit).  I do have a draft saved.  It started out to be a simple running commentary.  Then I found myself embarked upon a whole essay about writing.  I feel it was not contemptible but yet want to edit.  Edit on Lame Post Friday?  NEVER!

 

Well, no, I often edit somewhat, even when composing at the keyboard.  At least I proofread (yes, yes, sometimes I miss a typo, what’s your point?).  But I like Lame Post Friday to be more spontaneous and leisurely , but not polished and fussed over (yes, yes, I know, if it looks fussed over, you’ve fussed too much, will you go find somebody else to bother?).

 

I am not composing this at the keyboard, by the way.  I am handwriting rather messily in a spiral notebook on the table in the break area at work, prior to my shift start.  College ruled paper, ballpoint pen, black ink, if you enjoy that sort of detail.

 

I find that writing before work puts me in a happy mood.  As long as it goes well.  I ought to be in a happy mood anyways, because it is Friday.  Also , today begins another Fabulous Wine Tasting Weekend with some family members.  Good folks, good times, what’s not to like?  No doubt I’ll write a blog post about it.  In the meantime, Happy Friday, everybody!

 

As the Laundry Turns

My usual plan when I’m going away for the weekend is to write blog posts ahead.  WordPress even has a handy function whereby I can set the posts to Publish at an appropriate future time.

 

You know what, I can just hear somebody carping now (or is it karping?  Carping looks too much like carpe diem, which is not the same thing):  “I thought the point of the blog was to write every day.  If you write blog posts ahead, you are not writing every day now, are you?”

 

Oh, shut up (I explain) (that’s an S.J. Perelman joke).  I’ll still write every day.  I just won’t necessarily write a blog post.  After all, this blog is not the only thing I write.  Besides, SOME readers LIKE to see a post from me every day.  I can’t let them down, can I?  Of course I could, perhaps sometimes I do, but I try not to.

 

I wrote the above when I was sitting in the laundromat Wednesday, wishing to high heaven that somebody had left a magazine lying around.  Once I found a trashy paperback in the laundromat.  That was sweet.  It was somehow a randomly found paperback was a more engrossing read than any number of books I have purchased or selected at the library.

 

No such rescue awaited me on Wednesday.  I sat there with my notebook, attempting to write my novel, a letter, my play, a blog post, ANYTHING.  It was no good.  However, I see that the silliness I did manage is over 200 words.  I call that a blog post, and quite appropriate for Non-Sequitur Thursday.  But whatever will  I do on Lame Post Friday?  Stay tuned, we’ll find out together.

 

For Tabby on Tired Tuesday

Sorry, kids, it’s Tired Tuesday. I did work on a blog post today, about Saturday’s adventures, but it needs more work and I have completely petered out. In my defense, I did laundry. Hmm, that doesn’t sound like much of a defense. So don’t forgive me. In the meantime, I offer a Pedestrian Post with thanks to my beloved schnoodle, Tabby.

I neither walked nor ran yesterday, and my legs definitely felt the lack. And my conscience felt the guilt from not walking my dog (although she got a nice long walk with both her peeps Sunday, in addition to walking my cool-down with me after my run). Therefore, after I got the laundry in the house and the non-drier items hanging in various places, I got Tabby into her harness and we were on our way.

It was still nicely warm out, somewhere in the 60s I believe. Many people were out and about. A couple of neighborhood kids said hi to us, and one unknown college-looking kid said hi to Tabby. Tabby led me down Bellinger Street to Meyers Park.

I still haven’t gotten over my delight at all the snow being gone, so I felt contented to be outside in addition to my legs’ enjoyment of the exercise. We saw two young boys playing baseball in the park. At least, one had a glove and ball, the other had a bat. I suppose it was just batting practice, or else they had vivid imaginations (nothing wrong with that!).

After the park we headed towards Main Street and the downtown area. I looked longingly at Basloe Library as we went by. They are having a book sale. I could use a couple of paperbacks for this weekend, but I do not foresee an opportunity to go there. Of course, I have three or four paperbacks I purchased at Basloe a month or two ago which I have not read yet, but still.

Up to the Historic Four Corners. I must take another walk by the 1834 Jail after dark some night and see if I spot any ghosts. I rather doubt I will; I’m not at all sensitive to that sort of phenomena, but as the great Fats Waller said, one never knows, do one?

A very sweet toddler wanted to pet Tabby. His father told him to ask first then asked me himself when the toddler was too shy. I said sure, Tabby’s a good dog. A lady with a beautiful baby in a stroller joined us as Tabby was being petted. Tabby was immediately interested in the baby.

“She likes baby feet,” I said. We parted friends.

I enjoyed our walk, and I think Tabby did too. I even enjoyed writing about it. Happy Tuesday, everyone.

Too Many Meanderings

So I had some Mohawk Valley adventures on Saturday. I started to write about one of them this morning, and I got bogged down. No matter, I thought. I can dash off an overview of the afternoon the cover each adventure individually as the week progresses. That did not seem to be working out either. After staring into space and questioning my life choices, I remembered: Monday Mental Meanderings. I can just follow my recalcitrant mind around the page a little, hit Publish and call it a day.

In my defense, I was doing some magazine work. I was revising and polishing (or do I flatter myself?) my articles for Mohawk Valley Living magazine, for which the deadline is tomorrow. I got them emailed out, for once forgetting to courtesy copy myself. In my detriment (I guess that’s not the opposite of defense; does anyone have a better suggestion?), I should have gotten those articles done last week and they’re not such brilliant prose at that.

My overall plan is to work more on my writing. Better blog posts, finish that novel. And that play. And the other play. Oh, and at least one interactive murder mystery. And here we come to my problem: I have too many potential projects. My mind won’t seem to settle on any of them. It skitters hither and thither. It — dare I say it? — MEANDERS!

This has become a rather circular post. I can’t seem to write, so I offer a Mental Meanderings Monday. The reason I can’t write is that my mind is meandering. Got that? If so, I shall hit Publish and call it a day.

Yes, Sweat!

I make bold to offer Running Commentary two days in a row, because this is the first time I’ve run two days in a row since I started running again last month.

I did not get out of the house till after nine. For one reason, since it was supposed to be warm today I figured I might as well wait for a better temperature. It was 42 when I set out, according to my thermostat, three degrees below where I usually dress in shorts and t-shirt. However, I had already put on the shorts and t-shirt. I observed that the sun was high in the sky. This would be fine.

It was fine. It looked like spring. I was running on completely bare, dry sidewalks. There was no snow in sight. Only my hands got cold. That was to be expected.

And my legs were tired. I thought, this is bad. I can’t keep writing blog posts about runs that aren’t fun. Well, apparently I can. I pondered how my readers might feel about it. Some readers might feel better, “Oh, it’s OK that my runs are still difficult; so are Mohawk Valley Girl’s.” Some might feel worse, “There’s no point in running! I guess runs NEVER get better!” I think the worst thing of all would be if they feel bored, “Oh no, not another dull Running Commentary! Just stay home, girl!”

I continued to feel tired as I ran down German Street. I decided to let myself off the hook as far as hills were concerned. Just keep going, I told myself. I ran through the high school parking lot and over the little footbridge. I would go up one street and down another, working my way back home.

I occupied myself with looking in people’s yards for flowers. Some people had nicely cleaned up last years skanky leaves. I must do that. Other people had not, so I felt a little better about that. Then I saw some purple crocuses and felt better yet.

Where, or where were those endorphins? I had been feeling down when I left the house and thought a run would help. Well, one must get through the difficult runs to get to the good ones. I persevered. I was soon rewarded by reaching the coveted “I can rock this” stage. My legs felt good! I could keep this up for a while. It was not a euphoric feeling exactly, but I certainly enjoyed it.

Of course it did not last. However, as I continued to run, it came back. I debated how far I would run. Further than yesterday at least. Perhaps not to the 35 minutes I should have been at by this time. Something in between?

I ended up running for 32 minutes, the length of time I was running before I got sick. As I walked my cool-down with Tabby I felt pretty terrific. I don’t think I have experienced endorphins yet, but I sweated out my bad attitude. That’s a pretty good accomplishment on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

Lame at the End of the Tunnel

I had hoped not to have Lame Post Friday, after my week of illness and recovery. I was feeling much better earlier today. My stomach felt NOT sick. I did NOT have a headache. Oh, life was wonderful.

Of course it did NOT last. I didn’t even make it till lunch before I started to peter out. “I ran out of oopmh before I ran out of day,” I told a co-worker. Of course, that phenomenon often happens to the working stiff, convalescent or not. One perseveres and tries to get the work done regardless. I even did some writing during my lunch break, but it was not for the blog and it was definitely not finished. Still, it felt good to write.

Um, not that I have NOT been writing. I’ve been working on a letter to a friend. I’m often writing a letter to a friend or relative. At least it is putting words on paper. Still, it doesn’t help when I have to hit Publish on something or finally go a day without making a post (NEVER! NEVER! At least, NOT TODAY!). I have been fired with ambition to write lately but, alas, the ambition has not been accompanied by inspiration or even any ideas. So I write rambling letters or type in lame blog posts.

However, I say it again, one perseveres. At least I felt good for the morning. Perhaps tomorrow I will feel better for a longer period of time. Soon, dare I hope?, I will feel better for a whole day. At least I shall try to get my blog post written before I start feeling crappy again. As always, thank you for playing.

Too Sick to Type Anything Good

I called in sick to work today, and I am taking a Bloggers’ Sick Day. On the one hand, you might think I would not have to. After all, I spent the day sleeping and trying to hydrate (a doctor told me the body can ride out many things if it just stays hydrated). One might think I would be feeling better enough to write something decent (wait a minute, would this be one of those hypothetical people we discussed yesterday? Never mind). It has often been observed, I can’t do anything about what other people think about me.

I am feeling marginally better. I woke up in the night with dreadful insomnia. After striving NOT to toss and turn for a couple of hours, my stomach started in. I’ll spare you a blow by blow of my sufferings, but it was bad. I am a HUGE baby when I am sick, and this was worse than my usual sinus, headache, light-headed things that I seem to spend so much time complaining about. One thing about intense nausea, when it finally goes away, I feel SO HAPPY! When the headache goes away, too, my life will be perfect.

Being sick makes for quite the boring day. Sleep felt good when I finally got some, but I couldn’t sleep all day. I read a little, but my head didn’t like that. I thought about turning on the TV but couldn’t quite make up my mind to (indecisiveness is often another symptom of these illnesses). I got on Facebook, but all I could think of was this other (terrible) job I had. A guy had called in sick, and the boss said, “But he was on Facebook this morning.” I was not even on Facebook at the time, but I remember thinking, “Oh, come on, to sit in front of the computer and maybe hit a few keys, you can do that with your head in your hands feeling awful. Getting stuff done at work, not so much.”

This morning, I wondered if any of my Facebook work friends would say, “She can’t be too sick; she was on Facebook.” So I made sure I posted how awful I was feeling. Then I felt guilty, because other people have far worse illnesses than mine (see above statement about me being a baby). Then I got off Facebook, because my head was hurting again.

My husband just looked over and said, “It sounds like you’re saying more than, ‘I’m taking a blogger’s sick day.'” Thus proving my point that you can type in dire circumstances. However, as the late, great Truman Capote once said, “That’s not writing, that’s typing.”

My Non-Consecutive Week Continues

This is my third consecutive day of not having a terrible headache. Isn’t that wonderful? Wouldn’t you think I would be busily writing away, words falling from my fingers to the page, blog post, novel, play, LET’S GO!

I know, some of you are sitting there saying, “I wouldn’t think that.” Some people have no faith in me. And some people are no doubt wondering if their faith in me was misplaced, as I write Yet Another Post About Not Being Able to Write a Post.

A digression: previously I have talked about Posts About Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. Which is fine, when I actually know why I can’t write a post. Since I sometimes don’t, I switched to Posts About How I Can’t Write a Post Today. Then just now as I was typing, I thought, a Post About Not Being Able to Write a Post. Tomorrow I may come up with something else, except in the unlikely event I can actually write a post. One must be prepared for anything.

On another unrelated note, I inadvertently hit some combination of keys on my computer which made the letters on the screen get all itty bitty. It is difficult to see what I an typing. Damn my presbyopia!

So I see that after having Tired Tuesday on a Monday, Wuss-out Wednesday on a Tuesday, I seem to be having… oh, I know some of you saw it coming, Non-Sequitur Thursday on a Wednesday! No matter, whatever it is, it’s over 200 words. I’ll try again tomorrow.