Tag Archives: writing

I Posted Something

So here I sit, my unwritten Blog Post hanging over my head. One could argue it is a Wrist to Forehead situation. How appropriate for Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

I had a few Mohawk Valley adventures on Saturday. I hope to write about them in the coming week. Today I am up to neither having more adventures nor writing about the ones I have had. I tried to watch two different old movies I thought might be cheesy and therefore suitable for a blog post. Well, I never thought I would write about either of them TODAY, so I don’t even know why I brought them up.

Oh let’s face it, I knew that on Sunday what I really like to do is just hang out with my husband and write some foolish bit of nonsense in the blog just to say I posted something.

But I do like to feel I have said something at least mildly entertaining. Hmmmm… nothing comes to mind.

I read today on Facebook that an FBF (Facebook Friend) of mine took a quiz that said she should be a writer. Unfortunately, she said, she lacked the “discipline.” I made a comment that discipline had nothing to do in the matter. That sounds like a ripe topic of half-baked philosophy I could pursue on Lame Post Friday. Doesn’t that give us something to look forward to?

For today, I’m afraid this nonsense will have to do.

Do You Feel Like Reading a Silly Post?

So there I was, writing about the DARE 5K. It was the third day I’d been working on it. My brain and my pen slowly came to a stop. Does anybody really want to read a blow by blow, er, step by step account of me running? Do I even feel like writing it?

Yes, yes, I know, don’t wait till you “feel like” writing. On the other hand, sometimes you don’t feel like writing something because it isn’t very good. As the saying goes, if it’s boring to you to write it, it will probably be boring to someone else to read it.

That is what I wrote before beginning work this morning. I did not get back to writing till lunch, at which time I could not think of anything to add to it, so I wrote another page on the DARE run. That post is getting pretty long. I think it will need some big time editing before I can publish it.

Now here’s the funny thing. Earlier this afternoon I came home from work and felt just awful. Mentally, I mean. I could not conceive of typing in ANYTHING for this blog. I could not type in things already written. I could not come up with something new. Whatever would I do?

I did what many of us do at times like these. I stalled. I piddled around on Facebook, I tried to take my dog for a walk (pre-empted by thunder), I took my shower. Finally I thought, I can at least type in the silliness I wrote earlier about not writing. It’ll fly for Non-Sequitur Thursday.

I typed it in. I should perhaps mention that I am on my desktop, which I have not been on in a couple of weeks. I have been making my posts on the little Acer netbook my sister nicely gave me (Full disclosure: she nicely gave me the desktop too). It may be the effect of the larger, more typewriterish keyboard, but I feel pretty darn good. I feel like I can so think of something to say for a post. I could probably even type in previously written stuff, long or not. In short, I can rock this blog!

I can’t really. For one reason, I think I am getting arthritis in my fingers and it is not so easy to type as it used to be. For another reason, my brain is not as spry and agile as I would like to think.

No matter. I see that I am over 400 words. Are they good words? Are they worth reading? I don’t know. Who am I to judge anyways? All I can do is hit Publish and hope for the best, as I always do.

I am so ready for Lame Post Friday.

Weather or Not, Here I Write

I remember some advice from one of the many books I’ve read about writing: add weather. Alas, I do not remember the book or the author, except that it was one of those collections of essays on writing. I ponder the advice and I find it to be good. As it happens, weather is about the only thing I can write my blog post about tonight.

Oh, yeah, there is the DARE 5K, which I wrote some more about on a break at work today. There is a fairly cheesy sci-fi flick I wrote most of a post on some weeks ago. In the first place, I don’t feel like typing in that many words tonight. In the second place, I’m afraid if I just publish what I have so far, the posts will not be that good. At least, I hope they can be better and I do not feel capable of making them so right now.

As I sit in my living room typing, I hear the occasional rumble of distant thunder. The rain has tapered off to a mere trickle. Earlier it was torrential. Before that the sky was grey and threatening. I was hanging out in a nightgown, because I felt like wearing something loose and comfy. Steven was in sweats for the same reason.

We had originally hoped to go to a cruise-in at the Mohawk Antiques Mall, where we could purchase hot dogs and root beer floats for dinner. I thought it looked too threatening. Also I was tired and once I had the nightgown on, well… Steven cooked some hot dogs and pork-n-beans on our stove.

But I still had to think about lunch tomorrow. Steven had purchased some tossed salad ingredients for me. We have a number of tomatoes yummily ripening in our yard. I was toasting a bun for my second hot dog, thinking after I had eaten it I would get on to the salad-making portion of the evening.

And here is the kind of husband I have. Since I had remarked how threatening the sky looked and since sweats are less embarrassing than a nightgown in case the neighbors can see, Steven put down his unfinished dinner and went out and got my tomatoes.

I ate my second hot dog then got to work on the salad. That was when the heavens opened up and down came the deluge.

And now it is over. Hmmm…. I guess when you add weather it is nice to have something to add weather too. Weather alone, I fear, is not enough. On the other hand, this is Wuss-Out Wednesday and it is the best I can do.

Still Tired and Fuzzy

I did say this would be Wrist to Forehead Sunday, didn’t I? Well it is. And this is another post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today.

I’m still tired, and my brain is still fuzzy. I have an unholy urge to end my post right there. I mean, what else can I say? And how long will this obsession of posting every day continue? A little while longer, I guess. At least until tomorrow.

Can I plead I am still tired from my great effort on the DARE 5K? From partying heartily later in the day? From the fact that I am 50? All excellent excuses. I am more concerned right now with how I can possibly un-fuzz my brain. Hmmmmm…. Nope, too fuzzy to think of a way.

I have often observed, even recently, that if one can write at all, one can often segue over into writing something else. So here I am writing at all. And yet, all I can manage it seems is a Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

In fact, I do not feel particularly wrist to forehead about it. I’m sitting with my husband and dog, watching Murder on the Orient Express, an Agatha Christie adaptation with an all-star cast, one of my favorite kinds of movie. Perhaps I could write a blog post about it for tomorrow. After all, my wrist can only stay on my forehead for so long.

Can’t it?

Can’t Write After That Run

I know, I should have had Saturday Running Commentary today. After all, I’ve been blathering on and on about the DARE 5K and it was run, wait for it, this morning. I was even thinking as I ran what a great post it was going to make. Well, it isn’t going to make one today.

I have a party to go to. Oh don’t start in with the, “What’s more important, a party or your writing?” What’s important right now is that I don’t have time to take a nap. I tried, oh I tried not to run too fast too soon. I tried not to push myself too hard and give myself an VCD attack. In fact, it wasn’t that bad of an attack. When I stopped running I was making some fairly horrible noises breathing, but nobody got too worried about it and I stopped fairly quickly. So there.

But I’m TIRED. I got up early, and I was tense about the race. I had butterflies in my stomach and in my chest. I was NERVOUS! What was that all about? I do this race for FUN. And it was fun. A lot of fun. But now I’m tired. I have a headache. And I have a lot to get done before I drive three hours or so to a party. Which I hope will also be fun.

I am progressing on my list of things to get done. However, I am leaving the most onerous chore for last. I have to figure out what to wear. You know, I have gained weight and it seems to be settling in my belly. When I was getting changed to go to a wine tasting last night (ooh, that would have made a good post for today), the first outfit I tried made me look like I had a baby bump. A baby bump! At my age! How dreadfully unbecoming.

So this post about Why I Can’t POSSIBLY Write a Post Today is getting progressively longer, because I am putting off that dreadful moment when I start trying on clothes, looking at myself in the mirror and crying. Good thing I’ve been re-hydrating ever since the run.

Hope to see you all on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

Did Hemingway Have These Problems?

I ended yesterday’s post fearing I was stuck again. I thought it would be temporary, but alas, the malady continues. I was unable to write a blog post or work on my novel at work. I worked on a letter to my sister, but it did not help me segue over to other writing. I thought, that’s OK. I’m going running after work. I’ll write about that.

I ran. While I ran, I thought of some good stuff to put in a blog post about it. Before the run I dithered about how far and how hard to run, also some good stuff to put in a blog post. It would no doubt be a good, long blog post.

I don’t feel up to sitting here and typing in a good, long blog post. I don’t feel like typing in a lot. I don’t feel like thinking of anything good. I’m a BAD BLOGGER.

In my defense, I did not do a Middle-aged Musings Monday, a Tired Tuesday or a Wuss-out Wednesday. In my detriment, I have been indulging in All DARE 5K All The Time, which some people might find tiresome. Additionally, my Wednesday post was a short little riff about not being able to write, arguably a lame post (although I got 10 Likes on it).

What I guess I’m saying is, this is Non-Sequitur Thursday. I am feeling quite non-sequential. And maybe a little unconsequential, but let’s leave my poor self-esteem out of this. All I want to do today is hit “Publish” for at least 200 words.

Hope to see you all on Lame Post Friday.

One Must Write, After All

Here’s a writing problem I often have. I finish writing a scene. I accomplish what the scene set out to do (or not, I’m not perfect). I end on a dramatic note, a joke or a cliffhanger. I stop, satisfied. Then I have the damnedest time starting another scene.

I don’t necessarily have this problem with blog posts. Monday I wrote a post about registering for the DARE 5K, turned a page in my notebook and wrote a post about the run I had taken that morning. Then again, that doesn’t always happen either. Sometimes I finish a blog post and stop.

I suppose I would avoid the problem in my novel if I worked from an outline. I could just move on to the scene that comes next or even pick a scene several Roman numerals down the page. In short, I would know what else was going to happen. In the blog, I could make a list of future topics to choose from.

In the novel I am currently working on, I only kind of sort of know what is going to happen. And I keep changing it and adding things. What’s that about? Regarding my blog, well that’s about my life and if you think that’s ever going to proceed in an orderly fashion, you clearly have no understanding of my character.

I don’t know why I’m even writing a blog post about this. Whenever you talk about a writing problem (or any other problem for that matter), all kinds of people are ready to chip in all sorts of advice, comprising quite a range of helpfulness and well-meaningness (my computer says well-meaningness is not a word, but what does a computer know?).

On the other hand, I had to write something. There I was, sitting next to my notebook, pen in hand, poised as it were for literary exercise. I have learned that if one writes any words at all, one can often sleaze over into writing about what one originally wanted to.

That is just one trick, however. Another school of thought says one should do something strictly non-verbal: clean the house, play an instrument, go for a walk. Everything will fall into place.

Frankly, I do both things. I sit at my job doing my work, which is strictly non-verbal. Then on my break I sit at my notebook and write… what I can. It sometimes makes for a very satisfying day.

Oh dear, that sounded like the end of my blog post. Now I’m stuck again.

Lame and Late

It is after 8 p.m. as I type this. I don’t know that I’ve ever written my blog post this late before, although perhaps I have. I knew earlier I would be late with this, but I wasn’t too worried. After all, it is Lame Post Friday. One might have thought I had a built-in title: Better Lame Than Never. That would have been good. Unfortunately, I already used it.

Just before I started typing, I looked it up, to be sure. Very instructive to read old posts. This one was from 2011. I felt encouraged at that time because I was approaching 200 blog posts. 200! What an amateur! Now I’m over 1100! Oh wait, I’m still an amateur. I’ve just written more blog posts.

Not that there is anything wrong with being an amateur. An amateur is one who does something for the love of it. I love writing my blog! Even when I can’t think of anything clever to say! Oh, I know, some people probably think I never say anything clever. Some people just gotta be that way.

I have been doing other writing today. I spent my lunch break writing a couple new scenes for my novel. I wrote more at the laundromat after work. Then I gave it up in a wave of lame. When I got home I worked on my article for Mohawk Valley Living. Oh, I don’t know if it will be good enough, but I will not bother you with my angst.

I see I am over 200 words. Time to come up with a punchy conclusion and dream about writing a better blog post tomorrow. Sad but true, I liked my post titled Better Lame Than Never better than this one. I should check back to this one 900 or so posts from now and see what I think then.

How I Roll

One thing I remember from Junior High School science is the law of inertia: an object at rest tends to remain at rest, an object in motion tends to remain in motion. I will add: a blogger writing silly posts tends to continue writing silly posts. Thus, Wuss-out Wednesday follows Tired Tuesday.

In my defense, the cold lingers, I was late getting home from work, and the writing problems continue. On the other hand, the cold seems to be on the way out, my dear husband fixed dinner when I did get home, and the writing does progress, at least by dribs and drabs. After all, it’s Wuss-out Wednesday, not Whiny Wednesday (although I’m sure some feel I whine all the time. I can’t help other people’s definitions).

I have never mentioned in this space my other writing gig. I write articles for my new favorite magazine: Mohawk Valley Living. One reason I have not mentioned it is that I was meaning to write a whole nice post about the magazine. It’s really cool, with all kinds of articles and information about the area. So I wanted to write a really good post about it, not just a brief shout-out. I bring it up now because it is part of my current writing angst. The deadline for the September issue is looming, and I’m having trouble getting anything down.

Odd thing about that. I can’t write, I can’t write, I can’t write. Then I sit down and write. Sometimes it seems that is just how I roll. I don’t exactly mind it, although it is a little nerve-wracking waiting for the time when I sit down and write. One would think it is a matter of just getting my butt into the chair and, you know, writing. Sometimes I try it and I find out, not so much. Today was one of those times. I put my butt in the chair. I opened the notebook. I put the pen on the page. I wrote.

And it just wasn’t very good. I persevered. I wrote a paragraph, then another paragraph. I felt happy when it was time to go to work so I could stop writing down these bad paragraphs. While I worked, I thought about that article and an idea for another article. At the next break, I sat down and very easily wrote a good page on the other article. What’s that all about?

So now I must assess what I have written, look up a few things, write some more, edit, etc. It should be fine. In the meantime, this is the best I can do for today’s blog post. Perhaps after I finish those articles, I can work on that good blog post about Mohawk Valley Living.

You’ve Been There, Right?

Sorry, folks, but it’s Tired Tuesday. I do have a post on a cheesy movie mostly written in my notebook. But it is only MOSTLY written, and it’s running long, as these posts tend to do. I just don’t feel like typing in that many words and I am clearly incapable of coming up with any more. On that topic, anyways. Apparently I can come up with some for a Tired Tuesday post.

My heinous cold drags on. I am better but just not better enough. You know how it is, just when you think, “Oh yeah, I got this,” you go off into a huge coughing jag that give you a headache or a sore gut or, worst of all, incontinence (curse you, middle age!). And the lightheaded, macroni-legged, heavy, awful SICK feeling. I list these symptoms not so much in the spirit of whining (although I fully expect to be accused of same) but with an air of “We’ve all been there.” Um, you’ve been there, haven’t you?

Be all that as it may, my writing has once again stagnated. I don’t know if I should blame the cold, the Ann Rule book I still have not finished, or my own lack of oomph. I suppose I had better blame myself. After all, personal responsibility is an empowering thing.

Then again, why assign blame at all? What is it with this finger-pointing, anyways? Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was impolite to point? A better thing to do right now, I believe, is to never mind WHY I haven’t written, but to write right now.

And oh, look, I did. Over 200 words of a fairly silly blog post. We’ll try for that cheesy movie write-up again on Wednesday.