Showing posts with label writer's block. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writer's block. Show all posts

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Did You Catch It Before You Blinked?

I've been advised that I've been remiss in writing.

And I have.

November was one of those weird months that simply sapped the writing right out of me. However, I'd like to pretend for a moment that it is still that eleventh month of the year, if you don't mind. Sometimes I feel it gets neglected and trampled over in our rush to get from the end of summer/beginning of school (September) and exhaulting in the beauty of autumn with colorful leaves & fat pumpkins (October) to the crisp joy of Christmas (December) and the opportunity to begin anew (January).

There's something about November. It always seems to go by so fast. With 30 days, it's not the shortest month of the year, but unlike April, June, & September, I always have such plans for a leisurely month of November and, in the end, I'm scrambling to figure out where the time went.

So I'd like to spend a few moments discussing this favorite month of mine. There's no real rhyme or reason here, just some thoughts that my brain keeps making me write down on napkins and scraps of paper, an indication that I was supposed to be actually writing and not avoiding it claiming writer's block. *grins*

In the realm of holidays often overlooked, November somehow got blessed with two of them. While Memorial Day & Labor Day get all the glory of beginning and ending summer, not to mention Independence Day with it's summertime fireworks, tucked into the fall month of November is Veteran's Day. Yes, the holiday gets its share of speeches and some areas even give it a parade, but for the most part it tends to slip on by as merely a day that government employees, and some businesses, have off. Yet, like Mother's Day and Father's Day, this holiday is a time for us to honor those who have served in our armed forces, who by the very act of signing up - either as enlisted or drafted - performed a sacred duty to protect our country and all of it's citizens. Wow. Say what you will about the various wars or police actions or whatever you'd like to call them, the men and women who served during those times of uncertainty, as well as those who served inbetween during times of peace, deserve our whole-hearted respect and appreciation. My dad served, as did two of my uncles. Between the three, our family covered three branches - Army, Navy & Marines. I'm always proud of my dad, but I have to admit, when we're out either at a show or a service and they call upon our veterans to stand, there is a slight catch in my throat and a mist to my eye for knowing that my father was one of those ready to do his duty. Veteran's Day comes in November, not a good month for picnics or gatherings for fireworks, so it has to stand on it's own merits. Quiet respect for those who have simply done what needed to be done. I was lucky. All three of my veterans came home. Not all of them did.

Now I know that TECHNICALLY Thanksgiving doesn't get overlooked. However, it doesn't really get to stand on it's own two legs (or drumsticks, as the case may be) either. The last Thursday of the next to the last month of the year, Thanksgiving seems to be more and more the herald of the Christmas season and less and less the day to gather with family and friends, to count our blessings, to give thanks for this new world the pilgrims ventured towards with their meager belongings and hearts filled with hopes and prayers for the freedom to worship as they chose.

Huh.

Hmm.

Kinda interesting that the holiday that came about as a way of honoring those who bravely ventured to a new continent in order to gain religious freedom and takes place in the month prior to the month in which Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus has been subtley overshadowed by the commercialism of shopping, of preparing the lists for black Friday's gift buying and giving, of filling calendars with lavish dinners entertained by Santas. Is it me or does it seem that the meaning of Thanksgiving has been taken away, much as prayer has been taken away from our children's schools?

I found rather appalling the news reports of people who spent the entire day of Thanksgiving camped out in front of storefronts, rather than with family and friends giving thanks for the blessings that were theirs.

I may not enjoy football, but I was with my family ... my mother, my father, my brother, his lady & my two nieces ... and that alone made my heart give thanks as my house was filled with warmth, love, and happiness. Particularly after their football team won. *grins*

Yep, November holds a couple of holidays that I find particularly meaningful. It is also a life changing month in that it holds Election Day Tuesday. Strikes me as intriguing that the month that includes the time for us to give thanks for the bounty of our great nation also brings us the day where we, as citizens, are also allowed to practice the freedom to chose the leader of our city, our state, our nation. Over the years we've had some great leaders, as well as some not so great, but the one constant in all the changing is our right to be the ones to choose.

Of course, November also is a personal favorite, just from some of the anniversaries of memories it holds. It is the month I began working for a delightful young couple as the nanny to their only daughter *mumblemumble* years ago, it is the month that I purchased my very first car all by myself (okay, with a little haggling help from a friend, but the money was all mine!), it was the night before Thanksgiving I moved into my little house 12 years ago, and then there was the Backroads Roadtrip of 2008 that led to a fast, fun filled weekend in Chicago last year.

November is more than just the next to the last month of the year. It's more than just the month before Christmas. It's a blustery autumn month filled with times of rememberance, family, and blessings. A month that we should all give thanks for our leaders, are protectors, our families. Maybe if we spent a bit more time doing that than in preparing our camping gear so that we can spend the night in front of store doors, we might all come away a bit richer.

One last thing ... there's a house in my neighborhood I've previously mentioned. It always amazes me. The older couple who live there keep their yard filled with the huge air blown creations for the various holidays. They have a bear with a heart, they have a leprechan with a pot of gold, they have a giant bunny. They have all types of creatures inhabiting their yards for the various holidays. Halloween decorations this year began, I kid you not, on August 31st and as the month of September waned into October, the yard simply became more and more filled. Then on November 1st, the goblins and ghouls disappeared and drivers by were greeted by a turkey. Unfortunately, the weekend before Thanksgiving, so arrived the Christmas blowups. November was not over, the day of Thanksgiving had yet to dawn, yet Tom the Turkey had been completely overwhelmed.






Can you see the cute turkey? Much like Veterans Day, Thanksgiving and even the month of November, if you blink, you might not catch something simple but rather special.

Friday, February 13, 2009

A Discussion Between Me, Myself, and I

I haven’t been writing lately. Oh … I’ve started several pieces. However nothing seems to be going very well. Nothing has been completed in the timely manner I wanted.

I’ll admit it’s made Me rather frustrated and unhappy.

I really enjoy writing. I find I am most at peace when I get an idea and put it into words. It is something that generally makes Me happy, sorting out thoughts, using words to paint pictures of feelings and experiences.

Therefore, when I am not writing, I don’t feel completely right and that leaves Me feeling rather out of sorts. I have learned that I don’t really like Me when that happens and I believe the fault for this usually lies within Myself.

After pondering the situation for a time, I decided that it would most likely help Me get to feeling better if I had a discussion with Myself. This is sometimes a good thing, but, then again, sometimes it isn’t. The discussions I have with Myself always tend to get a bit lively. I will admit that I am not always the most passive person when I find it necessary to have a conversation with Myself. It is usually because I find Myself unwilling to listen. It’s as though I find Myself not wanting to take responsibility for why I am not feeling good, or simply helping to get Me back on track towards being happier.

Therefore, I don’t enter into these conversations lightly. For some reason I can never seem to fathom, I always tend to make Myself a tad bit crazy. No matter how rational I try to be, listing the areas that need to be followed, I find myself balking … resisting listening to reason. It never fails I end up trying to bring the subject back up only to find myself pushing it further and further away.

When that happens, it generally falls to Me to sort out the finer points of the dialogue and bring it back into a semblance of rationality.

I won’t bore anyone with the complete details. The … ahem … discussion has been rather lengthy and time consuming, continuing on over the course of several days, making Me more than a bit distressed at times.

Bottom line, I told Myself that I was not happy with this empathy I felt Myself having towards the writing that I do.

I told Myself that not being able to write was making Me unhappy and something needed to be done … now.

I told Myself that I was holding Myself accountable for this inability and that it was time to get Myself together and get back to the business that makes Me smile.

Essentially, I argued, and bullied, and essentially painted Myself into a corner.

As you can imagine, this is never good. Whenever I find Myself painted into a corner, I find Myself lashing back.

Nope … not good at all, because in the end is it always Me that bears the brunt of it when I get Myself all worked up like that … when I try to make Myself take some responsibility.

For in the end … after I have shouted at Myself, forcing Myself to declare that I will never write again … it is up to Me … with tears in eyes and heavy heart … to plead with Myself to listen to what I am truly saying.

The writing that I do comes from deep within Myself and is ultimately written only for Me.

I had forgotten that.

The writing that I do only works to satisfy Me when I relax and allow Myself to enjoy the process … the search for the words to describe images and concepts that matter most to Me.

The writing that I do only works when I put away the deadlines that I impose upon Myself and understand that while I might require guidelines and structure for many areas of my life, I find Myself needing an atmosphere that is cozy and cheerful, a bit more loose-fitting, so to speak, for the writing to truly enfold Me and make Me feel able to convey ideas adequately.
It is only then that I find Myself writing and that is what makes Me very happy.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Writer's Block or E.D.S. - You Decide

It's been awhile since I've written anything.

Seriously.

With the exception of a blogparty I threw on TVGuide on March 1st, and the subsequent "answers" post, I haven't posted anything new in over a month.

I can't give a really reason as to why ... it's not as though I've been sick, traveling, extremely busy at work, bailing water from my living room after flooding waters, or anything like that. Actually, I seem to write just fine as I make my way through those chaotic parts of my life. Were things too calm? Nope. That wasn't it either.

I'm not sure how it happened, but I think I came down with a case of "Writer's Block" and let me tell you, it sucks.

Totally.

I write all day long for work. What is so difficult about this? This should be easy ... it's personal. It's fun. There's no pressure and it's not like I don't get ideas all through the day ... I now have a folder and a notebook that I keep jotting little ideas down in, planning to write. I come home eager ... tonight will be the night I will break the block and get back to the business of putting thought to words in a co-herent and hopefully pleasing manner.

Car pulls into driveway and I'm out. Thoughts are rambling through my head. I'm ready.

Computer boots up while I check out the kitchen to forage for something edible to curb the appetite.

AVG runs it's scans, AIM tries unsuccessfully to log me in, and Messenger logs me in and tells me whether my friends are online and how much mail has accumulated during the day. Meanwhile, I'm in the back of the house not listening to my computer as I change my clothes and once again give praise for the comfort of sweats and t-shirts and try to locate a pair of socks that no longer have a hole in them.

Back to the computer, I close all these little informative windows and pull up the internet, checking email and responding to the messages that have come into my mailbox during the last couple hours. Then I check my "junk mail" in case something has been caught in my filters besides the various TVG playrooms, alerting me to the hi-jinx of the inmates who wander about there. When I open the junkmail to over 100 messages from these playrooms, all from the one day, I figure it wouldn't be a bad thing to run over and see what is now burning down, or being blasted by fireworks. (And if this sentence makes no sense whatsoever, I invite you over to my sanitarium at TVGuide. People laugh and think I'm kidding when I talk about my inmates and their mischief.)

Worn out from reading the insanity in my sanitarium, I feel the need to wander back to my kitchen and warm some water for a little pot of tea to calm my nerves, to help me compose myself to write.

Back I come to the computer with my grandmother's pot full of some evening tea. I'm ready. I have thoughts brimming. I am good to go.

Oh. Look. The remote. Is there something on television that I feel the need to watch? I better check ... heaven forbid I miss something. There might be a game show or a reality show that I need to flip the channel past. There might be an episode of David Caruso posing with hand on hip as he pulls off his sunglasses and utters "Ma'm ... Ma'm, here's what we're going to do, Ma'm" while the producers of this highly rated monstrosity let it spin off into yet another montage of speedboats and other actors wasting their talents by posing in ridiculously expensive clothing.

Nope. I'm not bitter about this waste of airtime being lauded and the fact that Supernatural has to fight for every fan it gains when it has more talent, good writing, and overall production quality in 10 minutes than the other show has in a month of episodes. Nope. Not bitter at all. Huh-uh.

What was I talking about?

Oh. Yeah. Writer's block.

Well, it's getting late but I'm in the mood to write. I'm wanting to write. I have words that are ready to burst out. I pull up a new sheet of Word, I begin to get started. I've typed a sentence. Woohoo! Oh, wait. That sentence isn't how I wanted to start this. I'm sure that I can do better.

Let me think on it.

Is that the book I was looking for last week sitting underneath the table by the couch?

It is! I've been looking for that. I wonder what happens next? Hmm. Maybe I could read for just a bit and then I'll be ready to do a bit of writing. Though not as much as I'd planned, but still ... a little is better than nothing, right?

... 2 hours later ...

Crap! I was supposed to be in bed an hour ago! But wait! I'm having an epiphany. Let me just get these dishes washed up and I'll just sacrifice some sleep and get this thought written down. Who messed up all these dishes? *sigh* I should go ahead and fix my lunch for tomorrow, otherwise I'll be running late in the morning again. Then I'm going to finish a bit of computer time.

Open up document again. Erase starting line. Compose another one. No ... that doesn't sound right. Maybe I'm just not in the right mood tonight. Guess I'll try again tomorrow night.

Writer's block.

I don't think I have writer's block. I have EDS ... Easily Distracted Syndrome.

Does anyone know if there's a medication for this? I'd contact my doctor about it, but I'm afraid she's going to want me to write down the symptoms and who knows where that could lead.