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 |  Am I supposed to write? |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Documenting the trials and tribulations of sharing my writing. I know it will be a grand adventure. I'm sure I'll get a sore butt from the bumps along the way, but they are just part of the ride. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| It has been brought to my attention that my previous entry may have left the impression that my friend and I scored relatively close in Brain Age. While I did mention his brain is functioning at a younger age than my own, I failed to comment on the fact he is eight years my senior. I was not slightly beaten, I had my ass kicked. I feel I’ve eaten a sufficient amount of crow and will now return you to the regularly scheduled blog… Over the past few days, I’ve been on the verge of blogging many times. I now have a small collection of half-written posts that I’ve failed to finish. I’m not ready to abandon the ideas quite yet so will put them in my shoebox with hundreds of little notes I’ve written before; never been used but still emotionally attached to the thoughts. While putting my ideas away, I had to read each note before I put it to rest in the box. Apparently I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster for a few days now. It’s funny how a good night’s sleep can change things. The things that pissed me off, now make me laugh. * * practice focus and concentration * * Once I got reading, I couldn’t stop myself from fumbling through my box of opportunity. Some of the scribbles were wonderful while others, not so much. Even after reading some of the things several times, I don’t remember writing them. I have lots of rants. Obviously I’m in the habit of writing a whiney Letter to the Editor every time someone doesn’t see things the same, rational way, I do. If I don’t expose the error of their ways, who will? My favourites are the random scenes I’ve written over the years, things that popped into my mind, which I thought might have potential with some sweat and hard work. One day I’m going to force myself to sit down and tell the story that strings these events together. The size of the pile of paper tells me it would have to be an epic; something to rival Steinbeck’s East of Eden. I have created an unbelievable cast of characters, how they could all be related I may never know. I’ve got single characters, gay characters and old married couples, male heroes and female villains. In one excerpt, I took the time to name 17 different farm animals. It took me 4 pages, mostly single-spaced, both sides, to describe the ritual of roasting the perfect marshmallow. I even found the acceptance speech I wrote to be added to my 2006 NaNo work. What exactly is the difference between a foreword and a prologue? I have a page, both sides, discussing the topic. I must have seen one of the words used incorrectly which got my panties in a bunch. I know I’ve question why some authors use one over the other but I don’t recall ever being extremely inquisitive about the subject. * * practice focus and concentration * * Whatever word you choose, I have four of them. My intent when writing them was to set the tone for the story I’d tell in the following pages. While I’ve yet to work on the any of the stories, I have written and rewritten each introduction more than once, every time becoming more attached to the story. As there are four beginnings, I could separate the notes into the four stories. It would make creating the events in between much easier. It would also make it a much less frightening task. Of course, I’m not ready to sort them. The shoebox is only a little over half full. I’ve got enough room for close to another year’s worth of brilliant ideas. I have been known to depend on my collection for a blog topic or article or short story. On one occasion, I gave a friend a character I had dreamed up. It’s my own personal box of hope for greater things to come. |
| Life is a series of little choices. In the grand scale of things, the top priorities in my life rarely change. However, on a daily basis, my most important concerns are always changing. To my disappointment, I’ve had to make choices to spend my time doing things other than writing. Yes, it sucks but it happens. I’m over it and looking ahead. I find myself getting tingly all over thinking about tonight’s freewrite. It’s the perfect exercise to get me back into writing on a daily basis. Yes, it is the easy way out but it is writing and it is a blog, so it counts. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  I hope it’s not too ugly. I understand if you want to look away. If you decide to read on, feel free to chuckle. Timer set for 17 minutes. READY, SET, WRITE… Oh dear, where to begin. Until this very moment, I did not realize how much concentration and focus is actually needed for something as freeform as a freewrite. A million things are running through my mind and I try hard to kep the red lines to a miimum. First I moust comment on READY, SET, WRITE. I’m kinda thinking I’m going to use that as a personal tag line or signature. I find the phrase rather powerful. It’s my goal to be able to spit out a short story andytime I cued by those words. As writers, whouldn’t we all be ready and set to write? Just thought I’d share that little personal tidbit. I can’t stop forgetting a scene at the hospital, I witnessed. Icy sentence but you know what I mean. I was keeping a friend company and were were visiting in a lounge area. In the corner was a father, telling his daughter that her mother had signed a DNR order that afternoon. Actually, her mother wants no life saving measures taken. The daughter learned on her husband’s shoulder and cried. What I found amazing about this scene, was it demonstrated the amazing bond between parent and child. Did I mention the father was 92 and he was breaking this news to his daughter, over the age of 70? No matter how much time passes, I guess one always remain the child and one the parent and even at the proud age of 70, it’s devasting to find out you are about to lose your mom. I can’t believe it hit me so hard but I found it an incredible touching scene. On to the lighter side of things…. To pass the time at hospital, I bought my friend a Nintendo DS Lite. Something to pass the time that didn’t involve cigarettes, booze or food. First, you must know I am not into video games at all. I ADORE pinball but I never got into video games. I was fond of Ms. Pacman for a while but the romance was short. This is relevant because it doesn’t shock anyone who knows me, to find out I didn’t buy a real game to go with the machine. I bought Brain Age to train thje mind. Yes, I’m the type who buys educational games, even for adults. In order for me to enjoy anything, I’ve got to feel I’m learning a little something. This would be the perfect activity. Let me tell ya, kharma bit me in the ass. I’m always bragging about exercising my gray cells. I fully expected to rock this game. I was devasted to find out my brain age is 73. Not that there is anything wrong with being seventy three. When I get to that age I hope I enjoy it. But I’m no where near that yet. If I’m functioning with a 73 year old brain now, what is my mind going to be like when I get to that age. Has there been any research in the brain activity of an 108 year old? I may be in big trouble. By the way, his brain is only 68 so he’s not doing much better than I. Have I mentioned I’m upset with the government again? It’s nothing new but the levels of stupidity it sinks too, keeps amazing me. No there are accusations about our government influencing the US elections because of TIME…… P.S. The timer really freaked me out tonight, I jumped out of my skin. |
| It seems it’s going to happen whether I like it or not. The weekend is coming to a close and after one more sleep, Monday will be here. As I’m powerless to do anything about its arrival, I’ve decided this week I’m going to embrace Monday. Some good things are going to happen tomorrow. I have a couple of cheques to cash at the bank. Money coming in is always good. I’ve completed a couple of client files and they will be returned to the client tomorrow. This means more money in the future. Tomorrow I’ll be having lunch with a friend I haven’t seen in some time. Meals with Ange are always wonderful, full of laughter and never last for only one hour. We’ll graze between cocktails while we solve the problems of the world. I have a pick-up ready at a bookstore; some technical manuals. But since I’m there, I’ll spend some time wandering the aisles. I’d love to spend some quality time going through the bargain tables but that will depend on how long lunch goes. I’ll be happy doing either or. My niece will be keeping me company tomorrow evening. Only for a little while but some time is better than no time. She has an amazing ability to make me forget everything else and just enjoy being with her. While I’m still enjoying the buzz of the weekend, Monday is not looking so bad. It’s full of activities I enjoy. I believe tomorrow is going to be a magnificent day. The fact it will be a Monday is inconsequential. I’m making the decision that I’m not going to let anything wreck my day. If I repeat this to myself a few several more times, I’m sure eventually I will believe it.  |
| Thursday is in need of a creative nickname. I recognize this yet can’t come up with something fun. If anyone has suggestions, please speak up. For the life of me I can’t think of something to combine the idea of a freewrite and the fact it’s always Thursday; the second worse/worst day of the week. It will be late when I sit down to blog, so I choose to share the freewriting experience with you. It might be ugly tonight, I’ve had a rough week. Timer set, seventeen minutes. READY SET WRITE Returning to the scene of the crime. They say all jackasses do. Tonight, I found out how. I play 8-ball in a league in the city. The leagues are sponsord by bars. It doesn’t matter the quality of the bar. They need 2 pool tables, that’s all. There are some bars I play pool at, that I would otherwise not go for a drink. Anyways, tonight was one of those nights. The last time I played at this bar was before Christmas. Because it is not in the nicest part of the city, some friends and I carpooled. My friend, Miss C is an aggressive drive and will drive fast through anything. Yet, she’s confident so not scary. Anyways, she drove that fateful night… We arrived at the IT and were unsure where to park. Miss C made a poor choice to pull into what looked like a parking lot behind the building. It probably was a parkling lot in the summer months but there was a reason there were no cars there no. Under 6 inches of snow was a crooked and mushy and wet ground. Miss C pulled into the parking lot and ito a rut. It only took a second for her to get the car stuck. Being true competitors, we abandoned the car in the snow covered rut and went inside to play pool. After play our league matches and having a few beers, no our driver wasn’t drinking, we decided we better do something about the car. On ladies’ night in a dive near a factory, there isn’t usually trouble getting help for a damsel in distress. Sure enough, Miss C batted her eyes and told a few barflys of the dilemma. There were enough you bucks to help her, Wingding (this is her real live moniker. It’s not a fake to protect her identity.) and I, being the elder statespeople, decided we would just watch. To say we watched isn’t accurate. It’s better to say we laughed. These kids had not idea what the hell they were doing. Wingding and I learned to drive on rear wheel boats, over 20 years ago, when we still got two feet of snow every winter. We know how to get a car unstuck (Is that a word, unstuck? Sounds funny.) We laughed for sometime but then decided they were doing far more harm than good. Wing and I were trying to tell them they needd to rock the car. The three guys pushing, not one of them over the age of 25, looked at us like we were speaking a foreign language. We let them spin for a few more minutes and then finally had enough. She opened her big mouth, call Miss C out of the car and told the boys to step aside. I could make she and I sound like real heros but I don’t know if I could find the right words tonight. I’ll cut to the heart of the story… In under a minute Winding and I had the car out of the muck and into the street. It was a night to remember. Tonight we returned to the scene of the crime. The snow has melted since before Christmas. When you look in the parking lot there is this huge hole. It’s just about the same size as a Saturn Ion. The small bit of water that was in the giant sinkhole is frozen. It’s a small lake. Across the parking lot is huge sign, ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK. Why wasn’t’ that there a couple of months ago. I’m grateful this happened this evening as I had no idea what I was going to write about this evening. The jokes and laughter about that night brought the memory to the surface and I decided to share. I’m trying to type more accurately than quickly tonight. I’m pleased with few red lines, however, I feel like a hen pecking at the keys. It appears it each keystroke is with intention. I really miust try to type one of these things on the other keyboard. I’ve decided my laptop is not the most conducivvv TIVEM |
| When you hear me speak, you have no doubt about the attitude behind the words. A congratulatory nice job will never be confused with the sarcastic nice job offered to a friend when they screw up the simplest of tasks. I can hear my grandpa’s words “It’s not what you say, young lady, it’s how you say it.” No, he wasn’t the first and wasn't the last. Adage or cliche? You decide. What’s the best way to add tone to the written word? On paper, words have no inflection, no feeling. Any emotion felt by the reader is due to the reader’s interpretation of the story. How do we help the audience hear the intended sentiment? Because capturing the desired attitude in works of fiction isn't difficult enough, some of us choose to blog so we can be further misunderstood. Unless you’ve met me, you don’t know when I use the word idiot I say it with contempt in my voice. I use it sparingly but it’s my rated G version of asshole. Subtleties like this are overlooked in a blog. I mean I can’t italicize the entire entry and popnotes are fun but hard work. So there are no misconceptions about my attitude, I’m full of shit and don’t take myself seriously. The majority of my blog material is meant to be read with a lighthearted spirit (With the exception of comments toward Anyea   . I mean to be nasty.). I try to be funny but I struggle to translate the funk of my body language into written words. If you ever find yourself wondering if I was supposed to be funny, the answer is yes. Laugh with me, laugh at me, but laugh.I never, never, never, never intend to hurt anybody with the words found here. I’m not saying I won’t disagree with others but we all have opinions. If you expect me to listen to your ideas, I expect the same respect. If I’m a bit of a downer, I’m not looking to be fixed, just too lazy to fake it. On rough days, humour hides from me but I do strive for thought provoking entries. Of course there are always the rants but even those lack malice.I live for the mock and don’t feel bad about it. I take it as well as I dish it out. If I’m laughing at you, it’s meant as a compliment. Of course you should take it personally… but not in a negative fashion. Yes, on occasion, I’ve been told I’ve taken things too far. Oops.  I’ve tried to learn from those experiences and I move on. I can’t say it won’t happen again because it probably will; to my knowledge there is still no cure for foot-in-mouth disease.Nada posted an entry about laughter and how good it is for our mental and physical health. I’m willing to do my part and let any of you laugh at my expense. I don’t care if I’m the butt of a joke and I enjoy a good prank; all in the name of fun. I never get mad but always get even. It’s not like I’m admitting to being the one who is leaving burning bags of elephant dung in blogs but it sounds like something I might enjoy doing. |
| I think it has finally happened, we have run out of original ideas. When I read Knight Rider in the TV listings, curiosity got the better of me and I turned on the idiot box. Yes! It’s a remake of the series from the eighties. I’m undecided as to whether this is good or bad. The 2008 KITT beats the old Trans Am, hands down. Being a fan of the Cobra probably makes me biased. Add the voice of Val Kilmer and it’s the kind of car every girl needs. I’ll actually have to watch the show before I make any other conclusions. Michael Knight’s son drives this model. I don’t know the actor’s name, but I do know he had his start in the daytime soaps, like his predecessor. That’s right, folks. Before gaining his true fame, starring in Giggle TV, David Hasselwhatever drove the first KITT and before that he resided in Genoa City. If you follow The Hung and the Breastless, and have done so for a while, you’ll remember Jill’s brother Snapper. Yuppers, I’m that old. * * one topic at a time – practice focus and concentration ** I’m shocked at the junk that’s on TV nowadays. The television was my companion this week, and not much of one. I saw nothing new. It seems the shows are ripping each other off. And apparently, we’re do care. Somebody is watching this stuff. Growing up, we had 4 VHF (2, 4, 7, 9) stations and 2 UHF (20, 50) and were grateful we lived near the border. Only one of these six stations was Canadian. I have no idea how many stations I have now but it’s a lot more than I ever watch. Twenty-four hour cartoons, golf, cooking and porn. My favourite is CLASSIC TV – 24 hours of reruns. How long are we expected to watch the same crap? I think there was some corporate espionage between the networks airing Lipstick Jungle and Cashmere Mafia. They look like the same show with different stars. When a network has a hit show, it ruins it when it clones it. Look at Law and Order and CSI. And of course, some sort of reality TV show is always on. They seem to be multiplying. Ick! The good news is now I know I’m not missing anything when I choose to curl up with a good book. |
| Oops! It seems I have neglected to discuss the ENTIRE freewrite experience. I’ve been so occupied trying to show you how brave I am, sharing a freewrite publicly, I’ve omitted to mention the, almost, very best part of this whole adventure. Drum roll please… the debriefing. Even saying the word is fun. Debriefing. I adore the way it r-r-r-rolls off the tongue. Debriefing. I like to use my James Earl Jones’ voice when I say it aloud in my head. Debriefing. I’ll stop repeating it now. Practice focus and concentration. I may have created the incorrect perception you should never edit the freewrite. My bad, I’m sorry. To learn about yourself and your writing, you absolutely, positively, must review your product; just not while you are writing. Reading your work the following day is one of the greatest pleasures you can experience. During the actual writing, the object is to let your words flow; unobstructed and uncensored. It’s about the process of discovering your natural writer. Being silly is encouraged. It can help you spin images you wouldn’t allow yourself to think about in the past. Freewriting is about a promise you make to yourself, to write everyday, no excuses. In order to succeed in such a committed relationship, you’ve got to keep the rules loose. The learning comes the following day, when you face your writing, for everything it is and isn’t. Similar to mining for diamonds or panning for gold, you’re going to sift through piles of worthless rubble to find only few perfect gems. Your critical eye is going to question your sanity on many occasions and you will doubt your right to refer to yourself as a writer. Finding the buried treasure though, that makes it worth the effort. You can’t find if you don’t dig. Some of my freewrites have created a deep sense of curiosity or inspired whole stories. I have found perfect endings and spell binding openings; passionate kisses and corny soft porn. At its very worst, it gives me something to mock and makes me laugh. You reap nothing if you don’t read your work. To debrief is to, ahem , formally question or investigate something for the purpose of gathering information, not necessarily making conclusions. It is worth saying again. Gather information but don’t judge. In closing, observe but don’t condemn. Remember, loose rules.Pressure packed situations have an innate ability to showcase both talents and weaknesses, at the same. Those of you who have tried freewriting know, continuously typing or writing with no pauses, is not an easy task. You lean on your strengths to get you through the challenge while your faults still manage to smack you around. It’s exhilarating yet can still scare you shitless. Think carefully and see if you can recollect many activities that can do all this for you. And as a bonus, it will make you a better writer. Do I have you convinced yet? |
| Much to my own astonishment, I find myself looking forward to my weekly, public freewrite. I’ve got plenty of outs. I haven’t been well and I haven’t missed a week yet and I have already posted once today. All those perfectly valid reasons not to freewrite but I still have the desire to embarrass myself. I didn’t see this coming. Timer set for 17 minutes. READY SET TYPE Recovery, a single word representing so mch.l I’ve had somenteresting conversations with various people and the word recovery continues to come up. To each person it meets something incredibly different. It shows the power of context. The supporting cast is the unsung hero. There are many othr words, like recovery, that can be taken out of contextand twisted to create ugly images. I guess I could proably find some pretty gross words which I morph into something brilliant. So many times when writing, we focus so hard on the story, we paint the background in our minds but not on paper. Readers can’t read my mind. So often, it’s the little but important details which grip a reader. This lets the audience paint a picture. Almost any expession, taken out of it’s original context will mean something other than wha it was intended too. You need details, but the right details. This is the trick. What does it tell you if a character has a dog? a cat? Which breed of either. I know there will be certain assumptions if I write about a middleaged man with three cats. I’m sure there are people in yr life that you frequently question. Why are you here? When you tell others bad stories they wonder why the person is still your friend and ou tell them history. The background story is important and gives the star the power to shine brightly. Wow, too philosophical for a freewrite. May I blame my tired brain and arms. When you hear the expression “flu”, what symptoms to you think about? Skip that line of thought. It’s going to be too gross and disgusting and go places I don’t want to see again. While is was down and out, I did manage to create some wonderful story topics. I couldn’t do naything but lay in bed and ry to occupy my mind. When I had the fever, it wandered some weird places. Anyways, I am excited bout some of my notes. I’m so glad I keep the notebook next tmy bed. I hope this is also a habit of yours. A notebook next to the bed is an incredible tool. I know I would tell mself I would be able t clearly recall my thoughtscome morning but it never happens. I finally put the book next to my bed and I have managed to record some good ideas. There have also been ideas which seemed magnificent in the middle of the night and lost all appeal come daybreak. I often wonder wher the great ideas come from. It is someone’s curousity or is it their environment which encourages their mind t wander. How come I struggle to create any sort of fantasy storyline and it’s easy for others? What gives our minds tht extra zing? Boom… soory, one of my cats just must have jumped off something. There was one helluva boom from upstairs and it scared the crap out of me. Old houses make such neat sounds. I think it’s part of their character. And every house has it sown TIME! |
| Finally, three days later I have managed to return to the land of the living. I’m sure I feel better because of the many get-well wishes I received from so many fabulous and thoughtful people. I’m also fortunate it’s Valentine’s Day. The commercial hype can help distract me from the lingering aches and pains, left behind by the flu. I’m careful with rants about Valentine’s Day. I don’t want to rob a single person of their joy or passion for the day. I’m not in this majority; I find this day annoying. Who are you to tell me there is a specific day on which I must make an effort to show my deepest feelings? If you’re special to me, I hope I demonstrate this far more often than once a year. I’d rather spontaneously surprise you, with a meaningful gesture, than be pressured into doing something because societal norms tell me I must. Love is not measured in dollars, carats or chocolate. Those things come and go. You know he loves her when he always remembers to put the toilet seat down. He knows it’s love when she comes home with an action packed horror film rather than a chick flick. He makes a point of calling when he’s going to be late so she doesn’t worry. You measure love by looking at the little stuff you do over and over and over again, not because you like doing it but because it makes someone else happy. Women, we get off easy, but the poor men. Jewelry commercials aren’t showing men’s chains, they promote diamond earrings and pendants for women. I haven’t seen much encouraging women to buy power tools or automotive accessories. There have been several ads in the paper for fabulous valentine spa packages but I’ve seen very few for golf gift packages. Could it be that men don’t need the material reassurances required by the fairer sex? Whatever you are doing today, be happy. If you’re fortunate to get a gift, be grateful and don’t judge. It’s the thought that counts.  Later, the same day... After my VD bah humbug rant, that brat Anyea went and did something nice. Lookie, lookie...  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** It confuses me when she gets all nice. I'm afraid you people will be fooled and are going to start liking her. |
| Some days you’re the dog and some days you’re the hydrant. Today, I was the stuff the dog puts on the hydrant. Silly me was starting to think I wasn’t going to get sick this year. Boy, did I ever prove myself wrong. I wish I could say I’ve spent my time wisely but I can’t. I thought I’d get some reading done but I didn’t. I did a whole bunch of nothing in between sprints to the bathroom. Yes, I did nothing, not even sleep. I stayed in my bed and felt miserable. I finally chased the fever away earlier this evening. I’m hoping I chased the rest of the bug down the drain with a hot shower. I’m finishing a Neo Citron as I type this. Hopefully I’ll be asleep shortly and today will be the Monday that never was. Read a lot and write a lot! And don’t catch the flu. P.S. I finally found something to do with all the elephant dung Anyea has forced me to collect. Check it out: www.poopoopaper.com. |
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