Daily Archives: August 17, 2012
I have writer’s block today. Yesterday I managed to crank out 3,500 words. I was on a roll. Writing some of my best stuff.
Until I read it over this morning. Upon editing, my word count went from 3,500, to barely 500. Not my best stuff after all.
And now, it’s 9 pm on a Thursday night and I have to come up with something to blog about. Something interesting. If I could do interesting, I’d be four chapters ahead right now instead of six chapters behind.
I could write about surviving the first week of high school. It’s my third time, after all. The first time was thirty-something years ago and I really don’t remember it. The last time I went through this week was five years ago and it seemed pretty painless. This week has me a little melancholy though. It’s my last first week of high school. In fact, I only have three first days of school left. You’d think I’d be jumping for joy. But I’m not. Too depressing for a blog subject.
So, rather than writing, I cleaned up my office. This way, when I’m ready to write, my space will be all neat and organized. That is if I can actually part with the junk strewn about the place. Do I really need to keep the name badges from all the writing conferences I’ve attended? Probably not, but it’s hard to get rid of them. They’re kind of like that badge of honor demonstrating I’m dedicated to honing my craft.
And the business cards from all the folks who rejected me? Right now, they are decorating a Tree of Life sculpture on my bookshelf. I think the sculpture was meant to hold photos, but I put the cards there to remind me this business is hard, but to keep going. I can’t throw them away. The poor tree would be bare.
Then there are the file folders of notes I took at the aforementioned conferences I attended. They’re all handwritten. In chicken scratch. Seriously, I need to destroy this evidence because I’ve been blaming my poor penmanship on a broken wrist I suffered a few months ago and these papers from several years past will definitely out me! Finally, something has made it into the garbage bag—woo hoo!
A rarely opened file drawer reveals a horde of brand spanking new office supplies. Ah, really? I should have checked this drawer out before the frantic run for school supplies last weekend. Better send myself a note on my iPhone to remind me of this stuff next year.
Last, but not least, it’s time to cull through the multitude of craft books I’ve purchased over the years and haven’t read. Maybe if I stick one under my pillow each night, I can hope for osmosis. Obviously, my Strunk and White, my dictionary, the thesaurus, and my Chicago Manual of Style are keepers. And, I’m not giving up Deb Dixon’s guide to Goals, Motivation and Conflict or Brown and King’s Self-Editing for Fiction Writers. Or Stephen King, for that matter. Sure, I might not read his book again, but like the name badges and the business cards, the book belongs in a writer’s office.
Well, my office is all gussied up. Time to write. Or maybe I’ll have a bowl of ice cream. Those 3,500 words I wrote yesterday might look better to me again after some sugar. And time. Isn’t that how it goes?