Tag Archives: writing

I Must, I Positively Must Write My Blog Post

It’s another Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Actually the only reason my wrist is on my forehead is that I have not made my blog post yet. I must, I positively must make my blog post.

Unfortunately, I have a dreadful case of Writer’s Blank. I know I have done things I could write a blog post about. I’ve had a rather busy weekend so far. It’s not over yet, because I have Monday off, making a Preview of Coming Attractions perfectly eligible. But when I think I’ve done this, I’ve gone here, I’ve cooked that, I might do the other… I just can’t think of a thing to say about them.

This is not really a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post, because I DON’T KNOW why I can’t seem to write a post. And it’s all very well to say to myself, “Oh, just try.” THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING, DAMMIT! Pardon my French.

I’ve said it before and I will no doubt say it again: writing about not writing is still writing. The funny thing is, as soon as I say it, I stop writing. Do you suppose if I hadn’t started writing about not writing that I could have in fact kept writing?

Well, duh.

I’ll see what I can write about on Monday.

A Pain in the Blog

Oh dear. I am having a dreadful case of What Haven’t I Written About? If I was in front of my computer (um, clearly I am NOW, but when I wrote this, I was sitting at a desk scribbling in a spiral notebook), I could easily go back and check. Wait and do it later? But we have plans for the evening. I want to type in a short, previously written essay and hit “Publish.” Is that too much to ask of my brain? Apparently it is.

In my defense, I have a dreadfully upset stomach. You know all body part are connected. Again I say, oh dear. I just flashed on this scene from a TV show I saw back in the 70s or 80s. It may have been Trapper John, MD. They were running the Boston Marathon. This short oriental guy (I think he used to play Arnold on Happy Days) fell and hurt his leg. A doctor who was also running the marathon (he was the series regular) (no, I don’t remember his name; I’m not even sure of the series, it was just a flash, after all) expected the guy to stop running, which he did not.

“The pain in my leg, not my head,” he said, jogging happily away.

So there’s my inner critic, sniping, “The pain is in your stomach, not your head.” Oh, shut up.

I suppose most pain and nausea pass eventually (“But stupid is forever,” mocks the inner critic, who does not shut up just because I tell him to). In the meantime, I see now that I am partway though Yet Another Post About Why I Can’t Write a Post. But can I think of anything new to say about that?

Well, I could not at the time. The above is all I wrote this morning. When I logged onto WordPress to type it in and attempt to finish it, I was greeted with Congratulations from WordPress, it is my anniversary as a blogger. Three years I have been at this. I forgot that date was approaching. I think it is pretty darn hilarious that as I mark three years, all I can come up with is a silly post like this. Then again, it is Non-Sequitur Thursday. Thank you for participating.

Crap! I Forgot to Write my Post!

It is Lame Post Friday, and I knew it would be Lame Post Friday, so I did not exercise myself too much about my blog post for today. So sorry about that.

I had some thoughts earlier today about “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” But when I mentioned them to Steven, he made an observation that told me my thoughts were not all that original. Oh dear! We can’t have that! I’ll save that subject for another Lame Post Friday.

For today, I’m afraid I have very few random observations and half-baked philosophies (the mainstays of Lame Post Friday, for those of you just tuning in). One observation: late afternoon traffic in Ilion, NY is terrible. That is scarcely original: traffic is terrible in many places at many times. That might be a starting point for some half-baked philosophy about why our society is so crowded and in such a hurry. Hmm, can’t think of much to say about that.

OK, I’m in favor of full disclosure, so here it is for today: I left work today and met my husband Steven at the laundromat. After we left there, I talked him into going to the Belly Up Pub for Happy Hour. We had a delightful time. I will no doubt write a blog post about it.

In the meantime, I got nuthin’ for today. What a surprise. All I want to do is sit and knit and watch the movie that Steven selected to continue our Friday night. I may write another post about that, but for tonight, have a good Lame Post Friday.

Let’s see what I can come up with for Saturday.

A Post in the Blog is Worth Two in the Notebook

It is turning out to be a Wuss-out Wednesday. I see no reason to apologize for this, as I seem to get more likes for posts about Why I Can’t Write a Post than I get for what I continue to think of as “real” posts.

It did not start out to be Wuss-Out Wednesday. Early in the day I wrote an entire post about an authentic Mohawk Valley adventure I had. Then I went to work. While I worked, I thought of something else to write a blog post about. I even started writing it in my head. When the buzzer for the nine o’clock break rang, I grabbed my notebook and wrote frantically.

Well, what can I say? Things happen.

What happened, you may quite reasonably ask. Oh, never mind. Explanations are so tiresome and I do enough complaining as it is. I did, however, end up writing a good deal more of the second post I started.

So two posts in the notebook, and crap on the computer. What’s that all about, you may ask, another quite reasonable inquiry. The answer is, I don’t think either one is quite good enough to share with you, my beloved readers (ooh, here’s a Freudian typo: I started to type “freaders” Could that be a combination of “freaks” and “readers”) (not meaning to imply anything and no offense meant).

Without exactly complaining, I will just MENTION that I’ve had a headache all day. It is one thing to write frantically. I am just not up to editing.

So out I wuss. Happy Wednesday, everybody.

Happy Sunday

What a fun day I have just had. Mohawk Valley adventures galore! But it is getting late in the day, I must hit publish and start winding down my weekend (some of us work for a living, you know). I hope to write at greater length of my adventures as the week wears on. Today I will content myself with a preview of coming attractions.

A whole group of us went to the antique shops in Little Falls, NY. This consists of various vendors in two renovated old factories. It’s a cool setting offering interesting merchandise.

From there we drove to the Fly Creek Cider Mill, another popular destination in our area. We ate, we sampled, we shopped, we fed the ducks. It was great.

In between we drove over winding, hilly country roads. The scenery! The sights! It was awesome! The weather was beautiful, the company was the best. There was just very little lacking for it to be the perfect day.

And now I sit in my lovely Herkimer home (not be confused with Herkimer Home, another destination Mohawk Valley Girl likes to write about), relaxing with my loved ones and enjoying my usual Sunday evening television shows.

Have you guessed that my wrist is not on my forehead? Everything is delightful. I apologize that I cannot write more eloquently about it. I’ll try to do better as the week progresses. Happy Sunday, everybody.

Sometimes Ya Gotta Clean

Sometimes that little writing voice in your head says, “I don’t want to write this now.” Then you have a choice to make. You listen or you don’t. Today I decided to listen.

Actually I decided to listen the third or fourth time the voice said it. That is why there are two more paragraphs on an unpublished draft I started to write earlier this week. Are they any good? I can’t tell that till later. So anybody who was about to start huffing about how you just have to Not Give In to Writer’s Block, just go huff at somebody else. This is my story and I’m sticking to it.

I truly did not want to have a Wrist to Forehead Saturday. I didn’t even want to do a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post (as usual, the irony is not lost on me). I considered doing a post about cleaning my house, which is mostly what I did today. I was going to include the line, “Step one: Invite people over.” I got a little bogged down in subsequent steps, and that was when I was still writing in my head.

This morning I took a walk to the post office with my schnoodle, Tabby. I tried to pay close attention to things, so I could write about that. Running commentary was out of the question, because I needed my energy to clean. Well, unless these walks are really noteworthy, I need to write about them right away for the post to be any good. I was certainly willing to do that, but… dirty living room called.

I’m sensing a pattern here. As with my diet, so with my writing: there is always an excuse not to do the right thing. Oh, with my running, too. Damn. So today I call myself out on my excuses. But I don’t feel too bad about myself. Because you know what, I didn’t run, but I walked. I haven’t eaten anything too fattening yet, because I was too busy cleaning. And earlier, when I needed a break from cleaning, I did a little work on my novel.

So what I’m saying is, I don’t suck.

And who’s to say that cleaning my house was not the right thing to do?

Murder on the Blog Post

Is anybody keeping score as to how many posts I write about Why I Can’t Write a Post? I hope not. In fact, why should I flatter myself that people are paying that much attention to me in the first place? At least I was working on something different this time. I was trying to kill someone.

I just said that to be dramatic. I was writing a murder mystery. You see, a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away… oh wait, that’s something else. It was in the North Country, as that area of northern New York State likes to call itself. And it was the 1990s, so, you know, not yesterday. My husband and I and some friends used to have a company called Murder For Hire. We put on interactive murder mystery dinner theatre.

I used to write most of them, and I like to think I was pretty good at it. We never made a lot of money, but we had a lot of fun. I really miss doing them. When I get a real intense bout of writer’s blank, sometimes I start one, just to get my creative juices flowing.

Regular readers may recall my saying that my novel is at a standstill. I keep thinking about it while at work (a good time for working out plot points), but nothing much is coming. So I started to think about something else. I thought about a possible venue for a murder mystery. I thought of an organization that might like to do one as a fundraiser. Then I thought about what kind of murder mystery they would like. Then next thing I knew, I was making notes.

I started that yesterday after I had written the day’s post, so I’ve been at it for two days now. I am enjoying it quite a bit. Will I feel confident enough to actually approach the organization I thought might like it? We shall see. And probably write a blog post about it.

I Feel Confident to Hit Publish

I’m afraid this is going to be a Monday Middle-aged Musing. I tried to write a “real” post (I put it in quotes, because what is this, an optical illusion?), but I am having a failure of confidence. Then I thought, there’s a ripe topic to muse about: confidence.

OK, I just started twice to write a sentence about needing confidence, but erased it because, you guessed it, I had no confidence in it. This happens to writers sometimes. We start to write something and think, “Oh, that’s dumb, nobody wants to read that.” Or, more nicely, “That isn’t quite what we want to say, is it?”

A trick I often employ is to grit my teeth, write it anyways, and don’t show it to anybody (including myself) till later. At that point, sometimes I look at it and say, “What was my problem? This is fine, send it out!” Sometimes I immediately see ways to revise it into something not contemptible. Or a judicious mix of those two responses. And yes, there is the case where I say, “Yikes! What was I thinking? Burn that!” (Of course I don’t actually burn it; safety first.) Surprisingly, that does not happen very often.

With a blog, however, especially a daily blog such as I aspire to, I’m on a constant deadline. Oh, I know, I know, write ahead, then I won’t have that problem. I’m working on it.

For some reason, I write something silly like this, and I don’t mind giving it a quick proof, sometimes reading it to my husband, and sending it out into the world. Why should this be? Ah, that calls for some half-baked philosophy, more suitable for Lame Post Friday (which seems a discouragingly long ways away, incidentally). For now, I simply observe the fact and hit “Publish.”

And I saved the draft of the post I started. I hope to share that with you later in the week.

At Least I’m Over 200 Words

Other bloggers would just stop posting on Sunday at all. But what fun is that?

I have had a real Wrist to Forehead Sunday today. I got one thing accomplished: I went to the supermarket. Then I didn’t put the groceries away for at least an hour, because I forgot. Luckily it was not warm enough for the milk to spoil. So this unseasonably cold spring is not completely bad, I suppose. I finished reading the book my friend at work loaned me (which may form the subject of a future blog post) (Preview of Coming Attractions). I must say, a very well-written, absorbing book, but not exactly a feel-good book. I could have used a feel-good book.

One of the things that saved me is that I started to page through an older notebook, largely to ascertain if there was a number of blank pages I could utilize. I saw some stuff I wrote in 2010-2011, when I was in the depths of despair. Wow, I thought, I am in a much better place now than I was then.

If I was really self-absorbed, I would type in a couple of those pages for your edification. I gotta say, though, I like my own writing, but this was not particularly entertaining. So I’ll spare you.

I’ll spare you all of it. I’m over 200 words. I say Happy Sunday, carry on with whatever you were doing, and I hope to see you on Middle-aged Musings Monday.

From the Spiral Notebook

In future years if anybody looks at this notebook, they may be confused (um, that is the spiral notebook I was handwriting in this morning; I’m typing this into a computer now)(that sort of thing makes me feel so time-warpy)(where was I?) How egotistical is that, thinking posterity might utilize my notebook for history (as if they could read my handwriting).

What’s going on is I’m having a waste-not-want-not moment. I found a blank back of a page in the notebook I’m currently using and thought to write my blog post here. This is a notebook I had been using in 2012-2013, when I was secretary for Ilion Little Theatre. Boring minutes in messy handwriting. Seriously, none of my notes convey the drama of backstage community theatre. I’m sure any theatre-minded readers will understand. I need say no more, and, indeed, in would be inappropriate for me to do so. What happens at the board meeting stays at the board meeting.

OK, so that’s about all I have for today: a page to write on and a story about where the paper is located. Nothing in particular to write on it. Regular readers know this sort of thing happens to me at least once a week. Sometimes more.

Oh, I know, you’re all thinking of “That Damn Book,” a rather ridiculous essay I posted a mere two days ago. I actually had stuff to write about that day. I just couldn’t write any of it with that compelling book so close at hand. Today I have sensibly left the book at home. Along with, apparently, the better part of my brain.

That is all that I wrote this morning before beginning work. Then I thought, how appropriate for Non-Sequitur Thursday: using notebook pages out of order. Will I find something as good for Lame Post Friday? As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.