Lately, I have been unable to put words to paper in any coherent manner or thought. I have been adrift. Maybe this is what they call writer’s block. I don’t know. John says that he heard that a writer will sit down and commit to writing at least 1,000 words in a day. No matter if those words are non-sensical or full-blown thoughts. So I thought I might try even if it is crap.
I have been trying to write but it always seems something comes up that needs attention, such as Cooper barking at the man who mows our yard, MeMe wanting to play, Mom and I want to chat or a text to/from John, something and anything to avoid actually sitting down and writing. It’s not like I don’t want to write but more like I feel that I can’t and that anything I have tried to write has been crap.
I had an idea for a book. I started an outline, I don’t normally work from an outline as I tend to free write. Then those familiar thoughts come flooding in – telling me in no uncertain terms that I am not good enough to write a book and if I actually did write a book no one would want to read it because it is crap.
At this point, I have written exactly 227 words, not counting anything passed the number seven. That was not the number I was hoping to have achieved. Crap.
Mother’s Day happened. It was a nice day. Then the bad text happened. My father-in-law passed away. He was 96 years old. He lived a nice long life, married the love of his life, and enlisted in the Army Air Corp (before the Air Force was a thing) and became a navigator on the B-17 bomber the Passionate Witch flying missions over Germany and France. He was a father to three boys and a girl, had grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Dad was a doctor and was loved by everyone who knew him. Maybe one day I will expand on all that I want to say about him. But right now I don’t think I can. When someone that you love dies, you just feel like crap.
As with anything in life, there is paperwork involved. John and I sat down to fill out some forms, answered the easy questions first then had to hunt down the answers that we should know but just can’t seem to remember. Finally, all the blanks are filled out, hopefully correctly, it actually took me two tries to fold the documents properly to fit in the self-addressed NOT postage-paid envelope that was provided. Then, since I don’t often send letters to anyone since Facebook is around, I have to hunt down a stamp. I felt amazed that I found six stamps. Four 39¢ stamps and two 37¢ stamps, I have no idea how old they are at this point but they were purchased in the winter months due to the Christmas and winter motifs. Then since I haven’t mailed anything lately I had to research how much postage is for a first-class letter. Just so you know that at this time it is 55¢ and I can’t find a forever stamp anywhere, John to the rescue, he found two. The paperwork is now signed, sealed and stamped. Then, as I feel like this was a job well done, I noticed on the paperwork that came with the form, the fateful words, “or you may submit this online.” What a perfect way to waste a forever stamp. Crap.
Since the last word count, I have only written an additional 384 words. Still not near to the thousand words. Again, crap.
Four hundred words to go. When I was in school, I would pour a glass of wine and whip out an essay as easy as pie. Always an A. Except when I got that one B. That professor did not like my choice of story to read and write about from the selections that she provided the class. It was not my fault that nobody had written about that particular story. If she did not want a student to write about it she should not have offered it. I shouldn’t be bitter, but I am because THAT B was total crap.
There is a quote “write drunk, edit sober” which is attributed to Ernest Hemmingway. According to my research on the internet, all of sixty seconds, this may or may not be an actual Hemmingway quote. Whether it is or isn’t matters not to me. While I don’t condone drinking and driving, writing is a whole different ball game. I don’t mind an occasional glass of wine, or beer, or sure a Martini while writing. Probably not the beer. Only a glass, maybe two. Maybe that is why I can’t find my words to write anything. I have not had a glass of wine. Crap.
It’s only 10:35 am. Too early for wine. That is most ashamedly crap.
In an effort to try and be proactive in this writing thing, I went back and read some of the things I had started and then stopped. I thought that there might actually be something in that junk pile that would be worth writing about and I thought I might expand on these ideas and make some headway on them. Want to know why I stopped writing those? Because they are crap!
Today’s theme, in case you have not noticed is the random musings that go through my mind. Thoughts that mostly are a bunch of crap that have no real meaning, no beginning, and no end. There is not a story here to tell. I wish there was and if there was this would definitely be more interesting. I will post this random thought essay, it will stand as a testament to myself that I wrote 1,000 words even when I had nothing to say but crap.