I think I narrowed down the problem/s with the writer’s block and yes, it helped to write about it. It’s connected to that dreaded inner critic in me which refuses to mind its own business and keeps telling me everything has to be perfect, while I know that no story is perfect while it’s in process of being [...]
Twenty-two
I’m in process of writing my first novel. The idea for this book started from a very detailed dream I had when I was in college. In this dream I visited every room of a huge three-story house. I knew the layout, decor and had a clear view of the front entry way. I also knew the names of the characters, and a general idea of what they looked like as well as their personality type. When I woke up from the dream I wrote everything I could remember down as fast as I could. I didn’t want to lose even the smallest detail and intuitively I knew this idea could blossom into a book. Thus began the long and difficult journey of turning an idea into a book.
In those days, I used an electric typewriter and white out when I made a mistake, which happened often as I’m not a very good typist. In those days, I could write for hours at a time, my thoughts flowed easier and didn’t worry about it being perfect. But it didn’t matter, because I was writing for myself. There’s an incredible sense of freedom that comes from not having to have everything just perfect. Ideas and thoughts flow as freely as a waterfall tumbling over a cliff.
However, all that changes when you share your writing with the rest of the world because they will find every little mistake and bring it to your attention until you scream with frustration, this is what they call critiquing. I’m not opposed to writers groups as they can be very helpful at times. But more often than not they seem to focus on the mechanics of writing as if they were english teachers. Mechanics such as punctuation and things like that are easily fixable.
But these groups rarely comment about characterization, dialogue or plot which is the central focus of a story in the first place, without them there is no story. I would love to find a writers group which offered the following things. 1 No one could steal your idea. 2. They know how to help with plot. dialogue, characterization, pace etc. They understand the mechanics of writing are important but not a major issue or the focus of the story. I’ve tried several different writing groups, from beginners to so-called advanced. They all focused on the mechanics of writing and not the main elements of the story. One group was so critical of the title of my story and that it was hyphenated I walked out and never went back. Arguing over the title of a book is simply stupid.
I suppose its different strokes for different folks when it comes to writing. But for me, I write alone and when I need help or feedback I’m part of the Writer’s digest writing community and they give some pretty good advice.
When you finally start writing for someone beside yourself and include the rest of the world, such as blogs, websites, publication etc. It changes everything. Your mind shifts gears and you become more concerned about the techniques of writing fiction or nonfiction and making sure your audience stays interested. While all these thing are important and needful they can interfere with the creative process which can result in writers block. Which leads me to my final point.
At 15.000 words into my novel I slammed full force into a wall, which blocked the creative flow an d I’ve been stuck there for two weeks. I still have at least 25.000 words to write and a deadline only three months away which does not include time for editing the manuscript. I won’t tell you I’m not worried about making the deadline I am. But that’s not the only problem. I fractured a bone in my leg and messed up my ankle a couple of months ago and even though the doctor took the cast off it’s still causing me problems. So here am struggling to finish a novel, meet a deadline and can’t hardly walk on top of it all. I suppose that’s a good reason to have writer’s block, but I need to get past it and move on with the book. I hope that writing about it will help.. I’ll let you know.
Like this:
Senior Moments 2
I used up my alloted time on the internet this week searching for the book I mentioned in my earlier post Senior moments for dummies. While searching for the book, I found a lot of good stuff… like pictures of cats. My first thought was.. great.. I found a cat dating site. So I browsed through all the pictures of cats hoping to find my feline soul mate. But to my dismay it was just a cat magazine. However, I think my owner might be a bit upset when she gets her next credit card bill because I ordered at least three cat magazines. But while she’s reading the magazines I can sit in her lap and stare longingly at the pictures of all those beautiful cats and dream.
I continued searching for information about senior moments and found the following: The Urban dictionary describes a senior moment this way: A lapse of memory, logic or mental function, which is atypical or unusual. A person suffering from this lapse may not be advanced in age, although senior citizens are more likely to experience this kind of occurrence. After reading this, I realized this strange occurrence can happen to anyone, anywhere and at any time and apparently only occur in humans. I have to admit this greatly distresses me.. as she sometimes forgets what she is looking for and aimlessly wanders around the house hoping she’ll remember what she forgot. But she usually does remember, whatever it was she forget and thankfully so.
However, I can’t say that for the human she’s married to. He forgets things all the time, like how to turn on the microwave. But he’s almost seven years older than she is and qualifies for senior citizen status… so that’s understandable! I’m sure you understand my concern.. they might forget to feed me, clean my cat box or forget my name.. not that I come to it anyway. But, I can hear it now.. here kitty, kitty time for dinner. Kitty! My name is not kitty… it’s Ziggy and don’t forget it!
Senior Moments
I heard about this thing called senior moments. I’m wondering if it’s another dating sites I heard about on TV. Oh, yes I watch Tv. I heard there are dating sites for the young, middle-aged and even seniors. But I hear it’s a challenge to find a compatible mate on this sites as there are so many to choose from. They come in all sizes, shapes, colors of fur.. I mean hair and personalities. This must create mass confusion in the mind and hearts of humans. How can one decide where to start with so many options?
It’s not like that for us cats. We simply take whoever is available at the time and have a family. I see no need to make the process so complicated; with dating, falling in love and spending huge amounts of money on a wedding. I heard my humans talking the other day, while I was lounging on the back of a chair, that they met on a dating sites called E harmony and have now been married for five years. Does this mean it works? Is that the ultimate goal? Does being married helps create this thing called senior moments.? It would seem so.
Oh No,.. you’ll never believe it.. My human said she is having a senior moment, but the other human isn’t here now. I’m confused. I didn’t know you could have a senior moment without the other human involved. I wonder if they have a book called senior moments for dummies, if so I need to read it.
Reaching out
I spent a week visiting my family in Nevada last October {2011} My mom who is almost 80 years old volunteers for a local food bank about three times a week. So she asked me if I wanted to go with her. I gladly accepted the invitation to help out. This particular food bank operates from the back of a large semi truck. Volunteers unload large pallets of boxes and that day they were giving away bags of red potatoes, apples, applesauce and pastries. I worked with a young man bagging some containers of applesauce. We bagged about six huge boxes of applesauce.
Meanwhile about a hundred people stood outside in the cold wind and waited for free food. I’ve never see so many sad, frightened and discourage people. Many of them had lost their jobs, homes and almost everything they owned. But as they passed by and food was handed out, each one of them said thank you and you could see the gratitude in their faces. It’s heartbreaking to see so many homeless and poor wandering the streets of our cities. I thank God for those who give and share of their time to reach out to the poor and needy. This experience deeply touched my heart. When I was a single mom many years ago I lived on welfare which at the time was only $454 a month and included food stamps. This small allotment had to cover rent, utilities and laundry and other basic needs. Through trial and error I learned how to budget my income from welfare and a part-time job. I couldn’t afford a car so I took the city bus to work and often had to walk home alone at night because the busses were available when I got off work. My son and I went without a lot of things we would like to have had, but it was more important to keep a roof over our head and food in the house.
As a result I have a lot of compassion for those who struggle with the grips of poverty and the stigma it brings. But I’ ve also learned there is a big difference between those who can work and refuse to and those who cannot, or the one trying to escape the grip of poverty. So I have a rule I follow when it comes to helping others, especially in a financial way. First of all I ask the Lord if I should help that person and how I should do it. If the Lord directs me to help someone I talk to them about their situation and what they need. Then I explain to them I’m a Christian and the Lord directed me to talk to them. Sometimes the Lord directs me to buy them a meal, groceries or give them a few dollars. But no matter what it is, I always pray with them before I leave
My most memorable experience in this area was meeting a woman who lived down the road from me. She was standing out in the cold winter weather holding a cardboard sign asking for help. I knew right away I was supposed to help her and who would have known that this precious woman would become such a dear friend to me. God opened the door for a miracle but it was up to me to recognize it and take action. It’s been over a year since I met her and you wouldn’t belive she was the same person I met on that street corner. God has dramatically changed her life. And it brings joy to my heart and tears to my eyes to see what God has done in her life. God changes lives when we are willing to show unconditional love and kindness to others in his name. Jesus said ” If you have done it unto the least of these you have done it unto me”.
Mission accomplished
It was so cold outside huge icicles, hung seemingly suspended in mid-air from the eaves of our house; waiting for us to break them off and touch our tongues to its frosty surface. Something my sister often challenged me to do just so she could laugh when my tongue got stuck to the icicle. It had snowed continually [...]
The good bad and organic
The weather was an unexpectedly warm and the sun shone brightly through the windshield as we cruised with our sun glasses on south on highway 101 towards our Gold Beach, Oregon. Finally a weekend to sneak away from the demands of work, never-ending phone calls asking questions which could be answered with a little common sense. As we drove along highway 101 we talked the things we were going to do. Like, a scenic mail boat ride up the legendary Rouge River
At six am the next morning a line of people anxiously lined up and waited to board the mail boats and filled every seat. As we pulled out of the harbor seals bobbed up and down around us and sea gulls swarmed the harbor hoping for tidbits of leftover fish. We cruised towards the bridge and into quiet narrow canals and canyons. Along the way waterfalls tumbled across from the cliffs over rocks and carelessly splashed into the rivers current. Otters played on nearby banks and while eagles swooped from unknown heights to snag a fish from the river only a few feet from the boat. Several miles down the river we stopped to take a break among the rugged canyon cliffs and pines.
Back in the mail boat again we continued our trip as the guide pointed out some of the local residents. Such as a black bear making his way through the shrubbery , a deer high-stepping it along the river bank. heading up the hill and a couple eagles swooping down on the river to snatch a fish for quick snack. We bounced over rapids and spun wildly around as the driver drenched us with chilly river water but everyone laughed and begged for more. Before long it was time to turn around and head back, but first a bite of lunch. Then we cruised back into the harbor and piled out of the boat, knowing we’d do it again in heartbeat.
The next morning eased our sore old bodies out of bed and wondered where we should have breakfast. We cruised down the road a ways and spotted a seemingly nice cafe and decided to give it a try. When we walked in the door, we sensed that something was amiss. The hostess approached us wearing a distressed frown frozen into her thin, delicate face; the patrons were apparently were suffering from the same agony. Finally seated at a table we discovered the menu items were purely organic. So with bleak hesitation we placed our order, hoping for the best. My husband who asked f his usual diet coke but served an imposter, which was a liquid organic nightmare. If you’ve ever tasted organic diet coke.. don’t! One sip will ruin your taste buds for the rest of the day. I ordered coffee with cream, but my request was completely ignored, however, the table next to us, was given several small pictures of cream and I watched with envy as a boy chugged them down one after another. It soon become clear the best service wad only meant for regular patrons, the ones the waiter and waitresses knew by name. Obviously they didn’t want anyone to known their secret for good service. Delegating the organic pancakes we ordered and terrible service to the next out of towners, we paid for the foul-tasting coke and cream-less coffee and walked out the door.
One the road again we discovered the answer to our breakfast dilemma was only a few block away at much friendlier restaurant. As we opened the door, the tantalizing smells of bacon muffins and other breakfast delights made our stomachs growl with hunger. Our waitress greeted us with a smile and was very friendly. We shared our unfortunate experience with her and wasn’t surprised as visitors often complained about that place. We finally had a decent breakfast, my husband had a real diet coke and I got all the cream I wanted for my coffee.
If you ever visit Gold Beach Oregon by all means sign up for a mail boat ride but beware of those nice looking cafes with sour faced staff serving tasteless organic foods with the main ambiance being purified air. Now you know the good, bad and organic of Gold Beach, Oregon.
By J. Wallace
©2011
