Tag Archives: writing

Now We Know Why I’m Not on the Best Seller List

Lame Post Friday follows Non-Sequitur Thursday as surely as night follows day. I can’t say as surely “as spring follows winter” because many of us here in the Mohawk Valley are wondering when spring will come if ever. Oh, I know winter won’t last forever. I’m just afraid we will skip straight to summer. However, my purpose today is not to complain about the weather but to entertain with some random observations and half-baked philosophy.

And here is where I make a note to myself: when I see something worthy of being a random observation during the week I should WRITE IT DOWN. However, thinking of that makes me remember a bit of half-baked philosophy I can share. At least, I don’t know how philosophical it is. It is a hoary piece of writer advice you see everywhere, and I would like to address it.

Keep a notebook by your bed, the advice says. When you come up with a brilliant idea in the middle of the night — perhaps in a dream — you can make an immediate note of it. You will most likely not remember it in the morning. As far as that goes, it is true. I often wake up from a dream, think, “What a great novel that would make!” Then fall back asleep and forget it.

Once in a while, though, I do remember it. I’ve even been known to go so far as to write it down. Guess what? When I look at it in the morning, I find out that it ain’t so brilliant after all. When it makes sense at all. When I can read my own handwriting.

I suppose it is still good advice to write it down. After all, what if it really is brilliant? In that case I might like to remember it. So noted. In fact, I do sleep with a notebook and pen handy. Also, at least one book, a flashlight, my Bible, a handkerchief and a bottle of water (in case anybody was making comparisons with their own bedside).

However, all my life I have suffered from insomnia. The older I get, the more unhappy it makes me the next day. Therefore, I confess that I do not often waste time chasing down elusive writing ideas when to me the operative thing to do is to go back to sleep.

And now the operative thing to do is to go back to enjoying my Friday. I hope you are doing the same.

Damn You, Dominick Dunne

This is going to be another Wuss-out Wednesday post. I did spend some time on breaks at work writing. I have two blog posts started but can’t seem to finish them. I never have been good at making myself write. Or do anything else for that matter.

I might have been able to finish one of the posts to my satisfaction but for one circumstance. I inadvisedly picked up a book I purchased some time ago but had not read yet. People Like Us by Dominick Dunne. I ADORE Dominick Dunne, may he rest in peace. Oh, what a writer he is. His fiction is so layered and satisfying. His people don’t sound like ones I spend much time with, but they feel so real. I’m not reading a book; I’m spending time in another world.

I could wish it was a happier world. I’m sitting here feeling quite upset that this character’s husband is leaving her (not for any good reason) and that character is dying of AIDS (in the early days of the AIDS epidemic, when it was little understood and always a death sentence, and being gay was considered by many to be a dreadful shame). And don’t even get me started on the writer’s story, which echoes Dominick Dunne’s own tragic experience.

Most of Dunne’s novels are considered roman a clefs. That is, they are thinly disguised versions of actual happenings. The Two Mrs. Grenvilles was based on the true story of Billy and Anne Woodward, a society boy who married a showgirl who later shot him. I’m not sure what People Like Us is based on, if anything. But it’s a good, good, good read. I’m going to go back and keep reading it.

And They’re Here

Ah Saturday. That is how my Facebook status started this morning. Sometimes I am wittier on Facebook than I am in the blog, but that is not an example of it. No matter, this is another Scattered Saturday post and I need to get it typed and published, because we have people coming over.

It is my wonderful husband, Steven’s birthday weekend. His birthday is not for a few days yet, but we like to spread these things out. After all, why not enjoy things for a longer time rather than a shorter time? I always say, you can laugh or you can cry, you might as well laugh.

We began our day by sleeping in till almost quarter till six. Ooh, that was nice. I had one of those nights when I kept waking up and thinking about work, then remembering that I don’t have to go there for three days. Woohoo! After some leisurely coffee, newspaper reading, news watching and computer checking, we went for breakfast at Liz’s Diner in Mohawk, NY. Yum! It was also a fun time at Liz’s, as we ran into a lady who knows us from shows at Ilion Little Theatre. We chatted about that, about our dogs, about the weather, and it was all very pleasant.

After breakfast we stopped at Gems Along the Mohawk. Full disclosure: I went there hoping to get material to write an article for Mohawk Valley Living magazine. We’ll see how that turns out. I’ll probably get a blog post about my tribulations in trying to write it. In any case, it was an interesting stop, and I purchased some postcards. You know how I love to send people postcards.

Back home I wrote out a few of said postcards, Steven tidied the living room, and I made a few phone calls. Some family members are stopping over later to wish Steven a happy birthday. Then I prepared a few snack-type foods, because when people come to my house I like to feed them.

And that is the story of my life so far. Oh dear, is that a car I hear in the driveway and I have not edited this, added categories and tags, or thought of a title? One of these days I’ll get my act together. And write a blog post about it.

But You Should Have Read That Post in My Head

So there I was trying to write a blog post when it suddenly became clear: what I composed in my head while I was working (it’s OK, it’s the kind of job I can daydream and do properly) does not necessarily translate through my pen and onto the paper.

Oh, there are the Know-It-Alls gearing up to say, “I could have told you that would happen. You can’t THINK about things before you write them, you have to just WRITE.” Blah, blah, blah. I think I know better than to listen to those yahoos by now. Yes, sometimes it is better to sit down at the page (or screen) tabula rasa as it were and see what comes out. Sometimes it helps to think about it first. How much thinking you ought to do varies.

That last sentence is the crux of the matter. The thing is, any piece of writerly advice — even wise, insightful advice (and any advice that begins with a sniff and “I could have told you that would happen” is probably neither wise nor insightful) — is only good some of the time. Every piece of writing is different. What works for one may be a disaster for another. Likewise, one writer’s Rosetta Stone is another writer’s brick wall (ooh, isn’t that a nice metaphor?) (now I’m remembering another piece of writerly advice: if you write something particularly fine, strike it out. I forget who said it).

Another thing about advice is: most people like to give it, few people like to take it. I don’t much like to listen to advice myself, especially if I haven’t asked for it. So anybody gearing up to offer advice on this blog post, NEVER MIND! Unless you’d like to leave a comment. I like when people leave comments. But if you comment with advice, I will probably not follow it.

In case anybody hasn’t noticed, today is Lame Post Friday.

Bad Attituesday

I’ve coined a new phrase: Bad Attituesday. It’s when you have a bad attitude on a Tuesday. I think it may replace Tired Tuesday as a feature in this blog.

I thought of Bad Attituesday while I was at work today. I was not having a bad day really. But, as will sometimes happen to the best of us (I know I’m not) at the best of jobs (it may not be the BEST of jobs, but it really is OK), by the end of the day I just did not want to be there. At least 45 minutes left on my shift and I did not want to do any more work.

Of course I continued to work anyways. I did not want to lose my job after all (see previous parenthetical comment about it being OK). But I reflected on my attitude and thought of Bad Attituesday. I like it. Thinking of it made me feel better (the irony is not lost on me).

That is what I wrote earlier, as I sat at Colonial Laundromat in Ilion, NY (note shout-out to local business), watching my clothes tumble around in the drier. And then I realized that it is a Tired Tuesday after all.

However, I did not write this post merely to whine about my tiredness nor yet my bad attitude. I wrote it because, well, I like to post every day. I rather hoped my newly coined phrase would be of enough interest to carry the post, but perhaps I flatter myself. In any case, I’m over 200 words and, as regular readers know, I consider that sufficient. Hope to see you Wednesday.

More About My Underwear

This isn’t really a post about underwear, but I thought that would make a catchy title. So I guess that makes this a Non-Sequitur Saturday. It could be worse (it could be raining) (somebody always has to say that, you know).

I was going to have another Scattered Saturday post, but looking back I see those posts haven’t gotten a lot of Likes. I guess I’m kind of a positive reinforcement junkie, because I like the Likes. I was about to feel a little sheepish about that, but in fact, why not? I publish a blog for people to read. Naturally I want to write something people will enjoy reading. Writing is an act of communication, after all. Perhaps I should solicit more comments on my blog. Points to ponder.

In comments yesterday the idea came up of doing a poll on how bloggers dress while blogging. Just underwear, commando, naked… For the record I put on a delightfully cute outfit (although perhaps I flatter myself) prior to beginning this post. Um, I did not put on the outfit specifically to blog in, but because people MIGHT be coming over to my house later. Also, I prefer not to spend the entire day in sweats (although I have been known to do so).

My outfit, in case you’d like to know, consists of a denim jumper, white turtleneck and man’s sweater. I got the jumper at the Thrift Store in Ilion, NY recently. The sweater is grey with black and white, purchased at JC Penney in Potsdam, NY well over 20 years ago (purchased by myself for myself; I bought a lot of men’s sweaters back in the day). And on my legs some extremely colorful legging-type pants which I just purchased yesterday. I just bought the bra and underwear yesterday, too. Oh the joy of new undies!

Hey, look at that, I did mention my underwear. Guess it’s not such a Non-Sequitur Saturday after all.

And if anyone would like to comment on what they are wearing or share any thoughts about my underwear, please feel free.

It Really, Truly Is a Blogger’s Sick Day

Remember yesterday, when I kind of sort of didn’t wuss out on the blog post? I seem to remember saying that a Blogger’s Sick Day had been a real possibility. Guess what today is.

Oh, if only I could end it there, hit publish and have done with it. Well I can’t. I have felt too awful to write a blog post but not too awful to write at all. I wrote a couple of pages on the play I am working on. It is turning out to be a farce, and it gets sillier as I go. And yet, the silliness is beginning to make sense. Perhaps that is just the virus talking. Whatever.

I was supposed to do laundry after work. I got halfway to work and realized that although I had the dirty clothes (Steven had put them in my vehicle last night), I had forgotten the detergent and the quarters. And my cup of coffee (the coffee was not essential for laundry, but it was going to make the quality of the day ahead of me much better).

Reflecting that a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved while a joy shared is a joy doubled, I told my sad story to one of my work friends. He offered to loan me $20. When I said no, thank you, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill, which he insisted I take. He also found me two dollar coins in another pocket, which he pressed on me. He wanted me to at least be able to have some coffee.

There is more to this story, but I am too ill to continue typing. I am going to bed. This has been my Non-Sequitur Thursday post for the week. Thank you for playing.

Warm Enough Not To Wuss

What a wonderful thing is perspective. For example, size 10 looks a whole lot different when you pass it on the way down than it did when you passed it on the way up (and if you have never been in double digit sizes ever, just shut up, that’s all). Similarly, 20 degrees feels a lot better when you pass it on the way up than it did when you were on the way down.

That is how I felt when I left work today and realized I could take a deep breath of the ambient air with no discomfort. I even took off my gloves between my vehicle and the drugstore when I made a stop on the way home. This was awesome!

I had spent a good part of the day pondering my lack of a blog post topic. I did not want to have another Wuss-Out Wednesday nor yet take a Blogger’s Sick Day. The latter seemed a genuine possibility, as the cold temperatures in my place of employment wreaked havoc on my sinuses. I moaned and groaned to myself. I could not complain much out loud because the post-nasal drip was giving me a dreadful sore throat.

Normally, I thought, feeling not a little ill-used, when I have no blog post topic I go for a run or take my dog for a walk and write about that. I could not take my dog for a walk in single digit temperatures. I tried it last Saturday in the teens and it was not a good idea. Her poor little doggy feet were quite uncomfortable. Imagine my amazement when I stepped out of work and it felt WARM! I realized this was only comparatively speaking, but I’LL TAKE IT!

As I walked into and then back out of the drug store, I lamented my fate. This lovely, lovely temperature and I was sure I felt too awful to take my good little dog for a walk. But I knew I could not waste the opportunity. Thursday and Friday are supposed to be frigid. My dog likes to go for a walk. How could I be so selfish as not to take her? For another reason, I needed a blog post.

The irony is not lost on me that I have now spent over 300 words writing about what I am going to write about. I feel this is at least a step forward from writing about not writing. Perhaps I can actually write about the walk tomorrow. Happy Wednesday, everyone.

At Least the Turnover Was Good

In my defense, I have a sinus headache.

I thought I would lead with that instead of making it the headline.  Now I don’t have a headline.  Yes, it’s Tired Tuesday.  I was working on my play during breaks at work today.  I was aware, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I did not have an idea of what to write a blog post about today.  If I was smart I would have spent some time thinking about it.  And here we come to the ugly truth about me.

When I got home I looked in my notebook and found a post I started in January about Munson Williams Proctor Art Institute, which I had visited in December with a sister and a friend.  I thought I could use it, so I typed it in.  Turns out, not so much.  I need to work on it.

I know, I KNOW, just work on it now.  I draw your attention to the first sentence of the post.

The other thought I had was to give another shout-out to Heidelberg Bakery, because my husband went there earlier and bought us bread and a treat.  I thought I could spend at least a couple of hundred words expounding on the delightful experience of eating a chocolate turnover. Yum!

Then again, who wants to read the word “yum” two hundred times?  I’m thinking it is marginally more entertaining to read about me not writing.  But perhaps I flatter myself.  I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow,  Wednesday, when I will strive not to Wuss Out.

Maybe I Should Have Backspaced Over It

That’s it, then. I’ve got the dreaded type-a-sentence-then-backspace-over-it disease. We all knew it was coming. One day I’m saying things like, “I can SO write!” and “I LOVE to write!” The next thing you know, I hate every word that comes out of my meager mind. Many writers have been there. Those that have not… oh, who are you kidding? We’ve ALL been there!

I had thought of doing a Monday Middle-aged Musings about the horridly cold weather. I was going to call it “Mid-Winter Musings.” I don’t really have anything new to say about the cold and the snow. Oh, except for a line I keep repeating that I think the huge snowbanks are a metaphor for my troubles: getting bigger and not likely to melt away any time soon.

Actually, it’s a pretty good metaphor. You look at snow falling and you think, “Aw, that’s nice. It’s pretty.” Because you’re in your warm house looking out, and it has not snowed in a while. Maybe it’s almost Christmas. Maybe you’re out in it, but it isn’t all that cold. You can look at individual flakes and they really are beautiful.

Then it begins to pile up. You have to shovel it and drive through it. It’s cold and the wind is blowing. You track it into your house and it makes a mess. As time goes on, the pristine white banks get all dirty and nasty. Wait a minute, where am I going with this? Life is pretty until it’s not? To hell with that!

I think I’ve talked myself right out of my blues, just from sheer cussedness. You say life sucks? I say kiss my fat ass, it does not! And I’ve written almost 300 words that I do not intend to backspace over. This has got to be the most disconnected post I’ve written yet. For the record, I’m only drinking tea.