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Because I usually am in Vino ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** In 2009, I gave up my studies as a medievalist and musician, left my home, my family, my life and moved to Provence in southern France for a guy. In 2012, I moved away from him to study wine. Today, I'm a vagabond sommelier working in Paris at one of the oldest and most famous restaurants in the world, struggling to find some purpose to what I deem the rest of my life. I'm still married and after 8 10 years, I'm still trying to fit-in with French life and culture and to understand why the French are the way they are. Because they're weird in a different way that I think Americans are weird. Perhaps it's me who's weird. |
| I played oboe today and yesterday. I had ordered some reeds and reed-making materials last week but they haven't arrived yet. I even kind of practiced, trying to go over some rough passages and smooth out the errors and bad intonation. There's not much I can do about the intonation though until I get better reeds but also build up my face muscles. Right now, I can kind of manipulate the reed into producing the right sound but only for a short amount of time. I don't have the stamina I once did. While working on my Short Shots story, I realised that I had reached a dead-end mid-way. There's nothing there. I don't want my characters do die and the evil spirit isn't going to change. I had a nice setting, even an interesting if somewhat cliché premise. But the story fell flat and I can't finish it. I've tucked it away for now. Maybe I'll be able to go back and start over - from the top - as it were and pull something out of it, but I can't do it now. So no Short Shots this month. I wrote a haiku about it instead. But writer's block is officially here. The rest of the afternoon was spent staring at my computer trying to write and getting nowhere. I fiddled around looking for prompts, for ideas, took a look at my novel outline - still haven't started the actual nove there. A few were inspiring and intriguing, but I couldn't write. I just stared at the prompts not knowing how to bring story to prompt. Eventually, I gave up and decided to study wine. That went just as badly. I had some notes laid out from my research a few days ago and was reading a few other articles and preparing to consolidate everything into my overview page on the Languedoc-Roussillon Region and couldn't even get that together. I put that aside and went to focus on just the AOC Languedoc. As I was reading the entry in Jancis Robinson's Oxford Dictionary, my mind just gave up. It wasn't working. I understood what I was reading. I was taking the information in, but it was like my brain just said "Who cares, I'm not listening to this bullshit." It seems I have a full Block not just writer's block The rest of the afternoon was spent reading Haruki Murakami's Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. At some point my brain told me "I'd like to play the fucking oboe." Just like that. And so I did. My brain swears a lot. Much more than I actually do. Today feels like it's going in much the same direction. My husband and I went to the market, with masks and hand sanitizer of course. We bought some things for the rest of the weekend. Walked around town for a few minutes. I played oboe. I told him I'd make bread today, but I don't really want to. Haven't been running yet. Last night, after spending some time reading and lamenting the writer's block or full block or whatever is going on with me, I bought a book full of writing prompts. I downloaded a sample to my Kindle first that showed lots of genuine realistic and interesting prompts and just figured I'd go with the whole book. It was 6 Euros - so what do I have to lose. The prompts all seem pretty good, though I haven't used one yet. They aren't silly like I often see like use these three items in your story: a fake moustache, a pineapple, and a rotten staircase. What kind of a story can I make into that that isn't just a throw away, absurdist, slapstick? Or "Two monks and a cactus walk into a saloon on an interstellar space station, what happens next?" That's not a prompt. But if you want crazy prompts- I think I've just discovered a new talent. Hell, maybe this is what I should be writing. Absurdism. I do think life is incredibly absurd. I was playing around with it a while back. Murakami's books are very absurd. I feel a kinship with him at times. Here's a man who runs marathons, loves baseball, a good whiskey or cocktail, classical music, and writing. Except for the baseball, that's basically me. He even likes true crime, which is my guilty pleasure. Just change baseball to playing oboe or studying wine. Maybe I could write absurdist haiku. Anyway. The plans for today: Lay down for a bit. Because let's face it: that's what I want to do right now. Yoga and run. Or at least one of the two Write and study. Or at least one of the two Make bread. I'll check in tomorrow to see how many of those things I've accomplished. Playing oboe was already an accomplishment. |
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I think it's awesome that you're using that negative experience to get creative. It's hard not to just wallow when those things happen. I use a paper journal for most of my actual coping process too, but I do share bits and pieces on WDC as well.
Might try a short story a day instead. Stay safe. 
