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Christmas for Mohawk Valley Girl

Hmmm…. after staring at an empty space under “Add New Post” it seems my brain’s Christmas present to me is a big fat case of Writer’s Blank.

It’s not as if I’m asking myself to come up with something brilliant. I’ve been saying all day that my blog post is going to be merely a wish of cheer and goodwill to my readers. How hard could that be? Apparently too. But one thing I have learned: if I put my fingers on the keyboard, words will eventually appear. And if I can keep myself from erasing what appears, eventually I can hit Publish.

It is a grey, gloomy day in Rome, NY, where I am celebrating Christmas with my husband and dog at my parents’ house. It’s almost as if Halloween came for Christmas. How cool is that? I love Halloween! I have taken two short walks with my dog, which have been quite enjoyable. We all opened presents and had a nice Christmas dinner. My mother and I mimosed (sorry if that makes you jealous, but I believe champagne and orange juice are readily available in many areas). I am now enjoying a glass of champagne without orange juice. It is New York Champagne, by the way. Great Western Extra Dry, my favorite.

In short, it has been and is being a wonderful Christmas. I shall now hit Publish and get back to enjoying it. I wish peace and goodwill to all.

By the way, tomorrow will still be Lame Post Friday.

I Just Write

How many different things can one blogger think of to say about not writing, that is the question. I know, you thought it was “To be or not to be,” but you were mistaken. It is Lame Post Friday and I am feeling even more lame than usual.

Hmm, that was not a bad first paragraph, or do I flatter myself? I would feel more comfortable about my future as a blogger if I had not just sat here staring at it for ten minutes unable to think of another thing to say. OK, I just said that to be dramatic. I’ve been blogging for three years and I intend to continue, lame post or not.

One accepts when one begins at a writer that some days will be better than others. At least, I accept that premise. There are those who claim that “you just write.” But we’ve covered “There is no such thing as Writer’s Block” before. And anyways, it’s Writer’s Blank.

Where was I? Oh yes, not writing and apparently unable to think of anything new to say about it. How embarrassing is that? This has been a pretty long dry spell. I mean, I have had some not terrible blog posts (or do I flatter myself?), but the novel remains at a standstill. I don’t know how good my last couple of magazine articles were. I may have had a couple of good lines in some letters and post cards I have written.

Oh hell, Cindy, just end it and get off stage. This post is lame. Try again tomorrow.

And looking back, I’m not sure how good the first paragraph was either.

Brain, Where Are Your Now?

Here we are, on another Wrist to Forehead Sunday, and I have a bad case of type it in, backspace it out. It’s worse than Writer’s Block, not as bad as Writer’s Blank. One must count one’s blessings after all.

I feel my brain has been deserting me lately. Part of the problem is the changing weather. Sinus pain is kind of hard to think around. It’s too close to the brain. Hmmm, now I’m asking myself: can I really write better with back pain, stomach pain, foot pain, pains in the ass? Must do a study. First bit of information: not easy to write with sinus pain. I’ll make a note of that. Maybe start a new Pain Notebook and get all scientific about it.

Be that as it may, I need to type in something I can publish today. Incidentally, I’m not in sinus pain right now. However, I conquered the pain with a decongestant, which dopes me out. It’s kind of fascinating, this spacey, light-headed feeling. But not easy to write.

I did write a little bit today: I finished a letter and wrote two postcards. As you may guess, that did not involve a lot of words. And I’m not convinced they were particularly memorable words. Still, with personal mail, you can get away with that. You know the recipient will be happy just to get real mail. If it’s any good to read, that’s just gravy.

And now I see I am over 200 words. Phew! I can get back to my Sunday, which will involve the viewing of Halloween movies. Happy October, everyone!

Fill in the Blank

I have been suffering a lot lately from Writer’s Blank. I believe I explained some time ago that I rarely suffer from Writer’s Block, a disease which many people profess does not exist (it’s more controversial than global warming or evolution) (oh dear, should not have brought those up; stay off politics!). I more regularly suffer from Writer’s Blank.

I think Writer’s Blank is a lot more descriptive. I sit down at my notebook or computer (or in the olden days my typewriter) and NOTHING HAPPENS. My mind is blank. The page remains blank. Contrast this state of affairs with Writer’s Block. The words are there, but they can’t get out. I’ve had that, too. Sentences form themselves in my not blank mind, but there they stay. Are they truly blocked or is it more a state of paralysis? Discuss amongst yourselves.

Are you done with your discussion? Sometimes it is pretty obvious why the words can’t get out. It is because the inner critic is in my ear shouting, “You can’t put that! It’s stupid! It’s boring! Nobody wants to read that!” This malady will occasionally manifest as write-something-down-then-immediately-cross-it-out, a symptom I exhibit on a regular basis.

So, yes, I am offering Yet Another Post About Why I Can’t Write a Post. How embarrassing. Tomorrow I hope to go running first thing in the morning and come up with some Running Commentary. Then it is off in search of Mohawk Valley Adventures. My mind will not remain blank for long! As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned. Happy Friday.

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.

Not Even a Non-Sequitur

This is the worse case of Writer’s Blank I’ve had in a while.

And writing that sentence did not seem to help.

Good God, can it be that I’ve run out of things to say? Wasn’t I just writing last week that it wasn’t like a bucket that got emptied? Oh well, I think I stole that metaphor. After all, plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery (and I bet the person I stole it from stole it from somebody else).

I seem to be moving from Non-Sequitur Thursday to I Got Nuthin’ Thursday.

In fact, I had a minor adventure I had been going to write about. It involved my husband’s car getting hung up in a snowbank at the end of our driveway. When I got to work and shared the story with a co-worker, I finished with, “Now I’ll go write a blog post about it.” Another co-worker said, “Now you have something to write in your blog,” before I had a chance to say that (yes, I told the story twice; I really don’t have that much excitement in my life).

Could this be an example of what they say concerning fiction writing? Don’t tell your plots to people, because you won’t need to write them any more. Did I talk myself out of a blog post?

I’m thinking I did not. It really was not all that good of a story. I just said the blog line to be cute.

And I see I have now written over 200 words about, once again, not writing a post. In my defense, I have a headache and I have been striving not to mention it, because people who go on about their aches and pains are tiresome. I won’t promise anything better for tomorrow, because it will be Lame Post Friday. However, there is a chance we’ll have some Saturday Running Commentary. I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Hmmmm… Who Do I Kill?

It’s supposed to be easy to write a post on Lame Post Friday; that’s why I invented it. But we all know, sometimes, not so much. Oh, I know, as soon as I say “we all” or “everybody” or anything universal, SOMEBODY is sure to say, “I don’t know that” or “I don’t feel that way” or “Not necessarily.” Well, I don’t know exactly how to spell the raspberry sound, and truth be known, I almost never make that noise anyways, so, OK, if you want to say any of those things, I’ll let it slide. This time.

Where was I? Oh yes, nowhere. I did not write anything at work today. I don’t feel capable of writing anything now. It’s not Writer’s Blank, it’s not Writer’s Block, it’s not Writer’s Anything, because I don’t feel like I’m a writer any more.

Oh dear, I didn’t mean to say that. But since I did, I may as well share my current crisis, because, actually, I think it’s kind of funny. You see, I’m writing this murder mystery, and I don’t want to kill any of my characters. I like them all. And it’s not only that, I keep thinking how upset certain other characters will be if I kill off that one. Oh, or that one. I’ve even changed my mind about the murderer at least twice.

Writers who outline and stick to their outlines are now indulging in superior laughing, finger pointing and head shaking. Oh, like YOU never have problems! I’ve argued with these imaginary superior sorts before. Even when I win, I lose.

OK, I’m over 250 words. Lame, but done. I’m going to hit Publish and get on with my weekend. May your Friday be un-lame and your weekend be happy.

Curse You, Vincent Price!

What is it about Vincent Price? I start to write a perfectly straightforward post about one of his movies and I get all bogged down and confused and it takes me days to get it right.

At least, the one I started today hasn’t taken me days yet, but I can see which way the wind is blowing. First it was The Tingler. Now it’s The Mad Magician. What’s a blogger to do but write about the problems she’s having writing. (I didn’t end that last sentence with a question mark, because it is rhetorical. I don’t need any smart answers from the peanut gallery.)

After all, I avoided Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I think I’m entitled to a Middle-aged Musings Monday. I shall muse about my trials and tribulations as a writer.

The problem I had with The Tingler and am having with The Mad Magician is neither Writer’s Block nor Writer’s Blank. It’s quite the opposite. I have too much to say (some people think I have too much to say at all times, but I daresay they don’t read my blog, so we need not consider them).

Usually, having too much to say is not a problem. I just write and write till it’s all said. I find that fun. In this case, however, my thoughts do not flow in a logical fashion. I start out talking about pre-movie commentary, jump to the plot, jump back and add in the spoiler alert, remember something I forgot from the commentary, go off on a whole other tangent.

Some may say that’s still no problem. Just write it all down they say, perhaps in a condescending, overly patient voice (you know who you are). Sort it out later. Well, that is what I’m doing. However, these things take time and effort and a good deal more oomph that I can generally muster on a Monday.

I repeat, what’s a blogger to do?

Not That Clever

I quite frankly thought I could get a couple more blog posts out of my gyrations on Saturday, but as I sit here on Tuesday trying to write a post to publish on Wednesday, I feel myself succumbing to the dreaded Writer’s Blank.

And just as I was realizing I couldn’t be too blank since I had just written a paragraph, my break ended and I had to go back to work. By the next break I was blank again. What’s that all about?

I did a lot of running around on Saturday. I hit the Mohawk Valley Spring Bazaar, my church’s rummage sale, a consignment shop, an antique dealer, a thrift store, and the library. I left the grocery store for Sunday morning. If you go early enough, it isn’t very crowded.

As I planned my day, I had said to Steven, “Every stop is a blog post!”

It turns out, not so much. Well, I can’t always find something striking to purchase, have an amusing conversation with a clerk or even notice something memorable about the establishment. The sad truth is, I am not that clever.

So I guess I’m stuck with a Mid-Week Middle-aged Musing: It’s funny how you can run around all day and find yourself without anything to say about it (I probably could have made that rhyme, but I thought it might be too cute) (then, too, there is that not so clever thing).