Thursday, August 25, 2011


It really is quite lovely...

I have little bursts of inspiration lately.
But it seems like I am never near a computer.
So, those little bursts pop like bubbles,
and instead, I bury myself deeper in the piles of books inside my Kindle.
I read and read and read and read and read
and pretend that it is as good as writing.
I read and read and read and
pretend that it is more important than watching tv
or playing Angry B!irds.
Pretend that I am superior in my time-wasting choice.
But I'm not.
I'm lazy, too.
Because I should be writing.
i SHOULD be writing.
I picture myself--standing on a skyscraper, grey sky behind, wind whipping my far-longer-than-my-real-hair hair, and I am shouting those words with a wide-open mouth, a mouth far larger and able to open than my own. For, as my dentist says, "If anyone tells you that you have a big mouth, they're wrong." Ha. Funnier than he knows, because I am
a talker.
I'm a talk
Just ask my husband.
He'll tell you...if his voicebox hasn't faded away from lack of use.
I'll tell you, if you ask.
But don't expect a short answer.
what you should expect
a novel-length,
I talk so much to make up for all the words I don't write.
Which just seems silly.
Perhaps I should take a vow of silence for a year...
or, like, an hour and a half...
and see how many wonderful and wondrous things I can write.
Probably I would spend all my time IMing with my husband and friends...
instead of delicately constructing the world's next devourable read.
Which I don't think I even know how to do.
But at least
if I keep writing
(every day, they suggest)
then maybe someday...
I'll reach the tipping point--
where my taste and my abilities are in sync.
Or 98 degrees, or whatevs.

Because a great lady recently told me that I am a writer she admires greatly,
and I figure if she's great and she admires me greatly...
well, that's just redundant or, rather, stating the obvious.
But what I meant was that she is amazing and she admires me a wicked lot,
so that reminded me that maybe I should gothefuckahead and make something of myself??
Cuz what the hell?
Why don't I want to HAVE what I want?

Eh. Bleh.

I'm afraid.
But it's what my beloved Ira Glass said, about taste and talent being out of sync, and he said to just hang in there and keep writing and one day my abilities will catch up with my high expectations of authorship.
Not to imply that he said it to me, personally. It was a clip of an interview that they played on

P.S. Once upon a time I was a badass motherfucker. Just like Samuel L. Jackson. Except really, nothing like him. At all. Except maybe the inclination to use the fuck word, but otherwise, I only know his characters, not his character.

And right now........
I feel like that Lisa you all once knew.
Which makes me believe that some day I will write that book.
And that some day is closer than it sounds.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Inspiration vs. Perspiration

I have been getting little flashes of inspiration lately...
But, alas, the perspiration is winning!
It has been a weirdly hot summer, and
I have been weirdly unable to stand the heat.
I've never been one to revel in the sweaty, humid weather or to enjoy baking under the dry sun, but this summer, I feel like I've gone to a different place with my heat aversion altogether.
I loathe the heat.
It cripples me.
It wraps me in its soggy, heavy arms and sucks me down
into the rabbit hole of foggy mind and droopy eyelids.
My brain refuses to think quickly or sharply,
and mostly just sends out messages to the rest of my body, "Sleep...sleep..."
And so.
It's been a fast, busy, slow, empty summer...
Also, my newest pet peeve of the Text Age:
people who elongate words in order to show emphasis, but do it by adding extra consonants, or other letters that have little to do with how one might pronounce that word in an emphatic fashion.
For example, "Duuuuuuude!" works for me.
While, "DDDDDDDDDDDDude!" doesn't really say much.
Or, "I llllllllovvvvvvveeeeeee you!" just sorta looks...well...STOOOOPID.
But, "I looooooooooooooove you!" kinda says something.
Am I nuts?
Or too eccentric?

And also, while I'm ranting about things that show my literary superiority, whilst writing goofily myself, let me just remark upon self-publishing of books.
I'm a huge supporter of this trend, by the way, but here's a suggestion:
If you're going to publish something and present it as a finished work?
Try some light editing, a smidge of proofreading, perhaps?
It really just makes reading so much more delightful.
Also, if the story could be SLIGHTLY interesting, that would help, too.

I'm pretty stoked that summer is almost over.
I know...I'm probably the only one!!
But that means the leaves will change, and got-down-sat-on-a-bench, I loves me some fiiiine (see?) New England autumn weather!!
It's downright delicious.
We will go pick apples, and go for hikes.
We will continue to kayak and bike ride.
And then?
Before you know it!!!
It'll be time for Pie Night and Thanksgiving and my new skis will be ready for me, and the snow will fall and it will be time for skiiiiiiii-ing!!
And. Yeah.
I guess I'm kind of a fan of winter.
Not that I don't enjoy the hell out of summer, too, but...I hate the heat.
I love the rain and the snow and the cool and the cold.
I love boots and coats and snowshoeing!

Ok...I'll return from my happy winter wonderland fantasy and go lie on my bed with three fans blasting me and hope that I can sleep through the night.

Also, I think my whole point of writing this was to whine about the fact that I keep being struck by inspiration, only to end up at my computer with nothing to say. But of course, I never have "nothing" to say...I just happen to not be in the mood to write the fiction that has been rattling around in my brain cave. C'est la vie.

Friday, August 05, 2011

Oh, digital age, why have you let me down?

For three years, my Blackberry and I have been very happy together. We have laughed, played, worked, planned, and remembered together. My Blackberry has been part of the tapestry, weaving together my True Love and I, as we shared love notes with each other every day, and stayed in close contact even when apart. My Blackberry was able to call all of my dearest friends and family with the touch of ONE button, and I was able to type in texts, reminders, and grocery lists with the speed and agility of an Olympic athlete.

Why did I forsake this beautiful artist's tool? Why did I think the bells and whistles of a touch-screen android would be BETTER?? I even waited until the one I wanted offered a slide-out keyboard, so that I could avoid the touch-screen typing that had always looked so painfully slow to me. My brain is not wired for this. I am not able to think slowly enough to type as slowly as this new "phone" makes me. The typing needs to be second-nature, so that my thoughts can flow freely and quickly, but this new monstrosity is so laborious that I forget what I was going to say before I even get it half typed! And forget about proper is SOOOO hard to fix mistakes or add punctuation that any speed gained by Swype technology is utterly lost. I hate this "phone," this abomination of communication! This communication abomination. That's what I'll call it. I may have to have my Blackberry reactivated. I will give it a few more days...but I have never felt so utterly hobbled, so completely bound-and-gagged. I feel like I'm living in a foreign country where I don't know the language or anyone who speaks my own.

Fuck Droid.