Archive for the ‘writing process’ Category

a footnote…

April 29, 2009

I had a discussion with my husband last night about my last blog entry.  It’s been hard on him, the unyielding expectations I have of him to read and comment on my blog, but, too bad!  Isn’t it his duty as my husband to read my blog!  If only he reads it and responds kindly then I might keep it going.  No pressure here!

So I forward him the link after each new entry, followed by a verbal cue – “Hey, honey, I’ve made another blog entry!”  And then I wait –  sit, chatting at the hearth with him through the evenings,  extending bedtime, waiting for him to say something about my latest blog …  Good job, wife!  Keep writing! It’s great that you are writing your blog, ignoring dinner! (etc.)  Well, he’s my resident critic, right?  Shouldn’t he be?

So last night he was out with it:  “I am glad that you are writing, but I don’t want to be your critic.  I don’t want to tell you what I think of your blog, whether it’s good or not, or how to make it better” … “I did read your latest entry.”

“And … ?  I responded with expectant eyes.

“Well, some of it’s good.”  (Some?)  “… Okay so that word you used, ‘sprinter,’ quoting your brother, to describe our season now – I was there when he said it, and you got it wrong.”  (What?) … “The word isn’t  ‘sprinter,’  he continued.  ” It is ‘spwinter.’  The season we have here is  ‘spwinter!’  Spring in Idaho is just like winter, and ‘spwinter’ captures it, and that’s what your brother calls it. ”

My husband continued, “The term, ‘sprinter,’  leaves the reader confused. You got the wrong word there and that’s the most remarkable thing about your last blog  entry.” (Ouch!)

I slept on it.  Crap! He’s right!  ‘Sprinter’ is the word for one who sprints.  We are certainly not sprinting into spring or summer.  (Unless we sprinted through three seasons in the four warm days we had and are now back to winter.  Ugh!)   Great.  Well, it’s just a wrong word, and it won’t do!  So what do I do?  Go back and change it  in my blogs?  Can’t do it!  Have to go forward! (Must spend time right now explaining it in this blog and, aw, too bad.  Now there’s no time left to handle any responsibilities around the house –  cleaning the toilets, for starters, would have been a good thing – Darn it!)

Well anyway, just wanted to make that  correction:  The season is ‘spwinter.’  Now I can jet off into my day.  With a new word:  GREEN! That last snow melted to uncover the greenest Idaho landscape I have ever seen.  It must have been green like this in previous Idaho late Aprils or Mays, but I don’t recall.  Daffodils, hyacinths, tulips (and dandelions!) are bursting out everywhere.  The trees are coming out too!  I believe it actually is spring!

On Writing

January 6, 2009

With 5,183,504 Blogs, 157,254 New Posts, and 43,898,208 words already written today on (and compounding exponentially), I should feel ‘okay’ about making a second entry  on my Blog.  My last (and very first) entry was written last Thursday, on New Year’s Day.  My son got me going and said, “Now, Mom, remember, you should write a new blog entry at least once a week.”

“Pssssht!” I thought. “Piece of cake! Heck I’ll have the first 3 chapters of my novel done by then.”  My head has since been swirling with material, words, cute little ditty soundbites, memories,  all jumbled in a big mess.  I have been typing at the computer, albeit laboriously, composing in my sleep.  Two days into this I resurrected  a line from a “Pink” song and revised it just for me (how musical!).  It’s in my head now:  “You can be a writer, just change everything you are.”  I don’t know why.  I could write, maybe,  if I could crawl out of my skin.

I woke up determined today…  “It’s just a freakin’ blog entry, for heaven’s sake!”   Maybe  I need more rules.  Just write?  That’s it?  Nobody  has to read it anyway.

As New Year’s resolutions go, writing more is a good one.  I have started and the exercise is churning my insides and unfolding them outward like the exposed pulp of an inverted half-orange.  I like much of what lies there.  Some of the substance of my pulp I need to clench between my front teeth and tear from the rind.   Gently.  I need to make more room in my life for writing.  And just write.