Category: writer’s block

It’s Time We Had This Little Talk

As mentioned yesterday, it’s performance review season at work. I received my appraisal on Monday and I just finished up writing a whole slew of reviews for my staff.

So while I’m in the flow, I think it’s time for my Blogging Performance Appraisal.

We’ll rate based on a typical corporate five point scale:

5 – Walks on Water
4 – Exceeds my low expectations
3 – Yer all right, kid
2 – Um. Could you work on that?
1 – Oh, Way No

Let see, now let’s assess performance against my goals.


1) Write a blog post every weekday and occasional weekends.

Rating: 4

Very rarely have I missed a blogging day, and even when I do, I go back and make it up. I’m very diligent on this point and I’ve definitely done everything I can to meet or exceed this goal.


2) Continually produce fresh content for every post, meaning write an original post every day.

Rating: 4

Thanks to my friend NewMexiKen, I was able to install a widget that counts the total number of words I’ve published here on this little ol’ blog. (you can find it at the very bottom left corner of this page)

As of yesterday, that number was 390,597 words since March 2007. I’m very proud of this number. 95% or more of those words were original content, straight from my monkey brain.

If you are keeping score at home, the average book runs about 80,000 words, so in essence, I’ve written 4.88 books over the course of four years.

And that kicks ASS.

3) Create blog posts about topics that fascinate me and written well enough to fascinate my readers.

Rating: 3

Yeah, ok, so I sometimes wander off a little bit toward bodily functions. Occasionally I enter my own personal wayback machine and can’t find my way out. And then there is simply fits and starts of utter randomness.

Fine. I admit it. On this blog I’m entirely self-indulgent. If you, my cherished readers, wanna come along on the ride, I’m happy to have ya.

If it doesn’t work for you, well that’s ok too.

For the record, I ain’t a’gonna change. I’m having too much fun.

4) Have fun.

Rating: 5

Not going to lie to ya, writing this blog is something I look forward to every day. It’s never been something I dreaded or avoided doing. Every post has been a crazy lot of fun to write and in the process I’ve gotten a lot better at writing and editing.

I love looking at this crazy ol’ world through my blogger’s eyes and seeing something everyone else would ignore, then whipping out 600 words about it here. For me, it’s such a sense of accomplishment to publish a fresh post.

Even if that post is about something as ridiculous as square watermelons.

5) Embrace my readers.

Anywhere from 100 to 500 of you visit me every day and read my words.

To you, I’m incredibly grateful.

I rate you all a solid 5.

Now keep up the good work!







Image from fun140gifs.com.


Round and Round

And the wheel goes round and round.
And the flame in our souls will never burn out.

– From “The Wheel” by Rosanne Cash

Round and round
What comes around goes around
I’ll tell you why

– From Round and Round, performed by Ratt


Yeah a little wide divergence in my choice of artists, but I’m trying to make a point.

A little hard to make a point in the middle of a blog post about round, eh?

Ba-dum-dum-*crash*

The point is, this concept of circular, round, spherical, wheel of fortune, karma, changing seasons, the big wheel keeps on turning is something that has intrigued artists, poets, philosophers and musicians for centuries.

So when yesterday’s Theme Thursday listed this week’s theme as round, well…I knew I’d surely have something to say about that.

Yup. Something deep. Meaningful. Profound.

Unh-huh.

Sure enough.

Profound.

Meaningful.

Insightful.

Right here. On this very blog.

Only…I got nothing.

I mean, I have ideas. A round of drinks, a round of golf, singing in rounds, that epic wheel of fate spinning round, the wheels on the bus go round and round, I ate too much and now I feel round, the earth is flat, no it’s round.

Sure. Plenty of ideas but nothing to say.

The minute hand travels around the clock. Hours days weeks months years pass by. It’s Friday again, the winter of my week. Time to look back on what I did, what I didn’t do and find a way to go dormant over the weekend. I need energy to fight the dragons when the wheel clicks ’round and it’s Monday again.

For the moment, the best I have to say about the word round is that it happens to be the shape of the cookie I’m about to ingest. While I munch, I will think about the meaning of life and the role chocolate chips have played in history.







Photo by kasey albano and used royalty free from stock.xchng.


Plumbing the Depths of the Thesaurus

This week’s Theme Thursday is: soft

Sometimes I see the weekly theme word and think “yeah baby! I know just what to write about.”

Sometimes I go. “meh.”

This week is a meh week.

Soft. What can one say about soft? Pillows, babies, marshmallows, fat ladies, feathers, skin, hair, blah blah blah.

So then I try my bag of tricks, Google the word. Check the dictionary. Check the thesaurus.

Soft. Synonyms: Yielding, squashy (didn’t know that was a word, but it is), spongy, supple, pliable, elastic, malleable, flexible.

Now really? Soft = Flexible?

I don’t think so.

The list goes on: bendable, ductile, limp

What in the sam hell is ductile? Per the dictionary “Malleable enough to be worked, readily shaped, readily influenced.”

That gets us a long, long way from soft. To me soft is a tactile experience not someone susceptible to being pushed around. I guess the main definition of soft has evolved to being too easily influenced.

Not sure I like that.

Soft is one of those words that by saying it you feel it. Soooo sooooft. What you do think of? Your pillow? Your pet? Your favorite broke in pair of jeans?

Yeah. Me too. What I don’t think of is ductile.



Image from T-shirt guru.


The Id, The Ego and The Stick of Butter

Slept not at all last night and now I’m stumbling through the day. I’m in need of inspiration and Theme Thursday isn’t posted yet. Instead, I’ll take the Free Association route to help my weary Muse along.

I’ve pressed The Muse so hard lately, I can hardly blame her for being a skosh wilted.

But she’s still got a little left in the tank.

And away we go:


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  1. Decoder :: Reminds me of those kids magazines that print messages for the reader to decode. I never had a decoder ring, that’s a skosh before my time, but I remember trying to figure out the key to decode the message. Loved it!

  2. Cake :: What’s not to love about cake? However, here’s a sore point for me: I hate whipped cream frosting. It’s buttercream or nothing. That whippy stuff isn’t interesting, plus it melts off and gets watery. No. Oh, and when I say buttercream, I mean real buttercream, with, you know, butter. I’ll eat the shortening style, but it gives me a greasy feel. Real butter = good. Ok, I’d better wrap up, I can discuss butter and cake all day long.

  3. Sense :: “She’s as happy as if she had good sense.” One of my favorite colloquialisms. It’s used a lot by my best friend’s mom, and it makes me laugh every time. It usually follows some story about someone being blithely stupid. “So she went out and bought a new car even though she can’t make her mortgage payments. And she’s as happy as if she had good sense.”

  4. Geek :: You know, this used to be an insulting word, but now it’s taken on a certain hip cache. As a lover of language, I’m always fascinated when an unkind word is taken in and made into something of a source of pride. Granted, geek was not as harsh as some unkind language, but in the early days, it still wasn’t a nice thing to be called. Now people wear it with pride.

  5. Cousin :: My folks both come from fairly large families so I have lots and lots of cousins. The Good Man’s folks came from small families with few kids, so he has only a few cousins. I think sometimes the sheer vastness of my family sometimes gives him pause. Imagine a roomful of me or people like me. That would give anyone pause, really.

  6. Goggles :: On this cold, dreary grey June day, I’d love nothing more to have a blazing hot high desert day instead. I’d strap on the goggles, blow up my hot pink air mattress and flop down into Ute Lake for a cooling swim. Yeah. That’s a real nice thought. Instead I must see about my umbrella and a coat. Where is summer, again?

  7. Social media :: *sigh* That’s all I have to say about that.

  8. Butterfly :: Mmm, you know what would be tasty for lunch right now? Some jumbo prawns, butterflied out and sautéed in butter. Mmm. Butter. Butter = good. Did I already mention that?

  9. Search :: However, despite my professions of love for butter, I shall instead spend my lunch hour walking around the nearby lagoon and then I’ll search for a leafy salad to dine on. Butter = good, but costly in the hip and thigh region.

  10. Manicure :: I need one. A lot. Since times have been a bit leaner in the ol’ pocketbook, I’ve had to forgo professional mani/pedi in favor of managing it myself. I’m pretty good at it, but it’s always about finding the time for these pampering projects. I’m still totally in love with the Sally Hansen Salon Effects product line. Ok, much like cake, I can ramble on for a while about nail polish.

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Next up, ink blots. Tell me…what do YOU see……?





Image from the Synaesthesia Experiment.


Calling Schenectady

When prolific author Harlan Ellison is asked where he gets his ideas, his response?

“Schenectady. They have them on a shelf in a Mom & Pop on Route 147.”

It’s a great quote. I mean, Schenectady is an inherently funny word. So is Poughkeepsie. And Poconos. Those East Coasters know from funny.

But the thought that the repository for the wild and engaging ideas of a writer like Ellison are neatly packaged, shrink wrapped if you please, and ready to be lifted off the shelf and plopped into form is one that tickles my senses.

In the opening credits of “The Ray Bradbury Theatre” television shows (dating back to the 1980’s, The Good Man and I have been watching them recently), Bradbury says that he’s often asked “where do you get your ideas?”

His answer refers to his writing space which is filled floor to ceiling with books and mementos and a whole plethora of, well, junk. He says all he has to do is look out and whatever his eyes fall upon, that’s what he writes about.

In an essay on the topic, Neil Gaiman says,

“…these days I tell people the truth:

‘I make them up,’ I tell them. ‘Out of my head.’

People don’t like this answer. I don’t know why not. They look unhappy, as if I’m trying to slip a fast one past them. As if there’s a huge secret, and, for reasons of my own, I’m not telling them how it’s done.”

Truth be told, there is no huge secret. There is no mystery. Ideas simply happen.

When the hose is squeezed too hard, hoping for water, no water can come out.

When you step back and let go, then ideas flow faster.

Then again, every once in a while, you get a big calcified chunk of gunk that blocks the tubes. An esoteric gall stone, if you will.

So where DO you get your ideas?

Hell if I know.

Some days that shop in Schenectady is out of inventory and I have to wait for my back order to arrive.






Photo by username Clix and used royalty free from stock.xchng.