Ten Ways Writing is Like Sex

writers block

Writers Block?!?!?!

10. Writing definitely became more prolific and interesting when electronic tools became mainstream.

9. Although sometimes it’s easier just to go it alone, in the long run you’re better off having some other people involved.

8. Sometimes writing is slow and deliberate, sometimes it’s fast and frenzied, but you’re usually pretty satisfied with the end result. And if you’re not… you can always try again tomorrow.

7. We live in a busy world. You often just need to schedule a specific time to get your writing done, like Sunday nights after the kids go to bed.

6. A little prompting can help lubricate your thought process.

5. Most of us are ready to write at a moment’s notice, but sometimes it’s easier just to use the excuse “I have a headache.”

4. Protection (as in copyright) should always be at the forefront of one’s thoughts.

3. Some days writing is all we think about.  Some days, even when we try not to think about it… it’s all we think about.

2. When it’s just not happening for you it’s important to think outside of the box, try new things, explore new genres, but realistically you’ll have the most success when you stick with your tried and true techniques.

1. The end result isn’t always what’s important… sometimes it’s all about the lead-up.  Okay… yeah… whatever, the end result is pretty important… getting published that is!

Good luck with your end result. And when you do get published, well if you’re a girl you can find someone to cuddle with. If you’re a guy, okay… just this once… it’s okay to pass out on your side of the bed!

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Baby Can I Hold You

“Baby Can I Hold You” by Tracy Chapman

This was the very first “real” song I learned on the guitar. This song was released in 1988, while I was a junior at Colby College in Waterville, Maine.  For my Christmas present that year, my middle brother had traded in an old classical guitar that had sat around our house our entire childhood, for the Yamaha acoustic guitar (and probably lots of extra cash) that I still play. The guitar he bought me is nothing fancy, not a world class instrument by any means, but a piece of wood and metal and strings that I have fallen in love with over the years.  I will be indebted to him forever for the foresight in buying me an instrument that although will never be used in a professional environment (thankfully!), really changed my life in an indescribable way.

I remember sitting in my dorm room trying to figure out the chords to this song, at the time barely knowing how to hold the guitar in the correct position and the tips of my uncalloused fingers burning from trying to hold down chords. Of course, 1988 was long before we were able to go onto the internet and search for the chords to a song, which are now readily available. So I listened to the cassette tape (yes, cassette tape, I’m that old!) and picked and strummed and picked and strummed until I figured out what I thought were the correct chords. Honestly I still don’t know if they are the correct chords and I figure at this point, it doesn’t really matter.

Look, I’ll never be a professional musician, I accepted that long ago. But I do believe that learning an instrument and being musically inclined is a “hobby” that is more important and can provide a more profound, lifelong impact than many others, including sports. Both of my kids are currently involved in music programs and I hope they will continue.

So… if you’ve ever considered picking up a guitar, banjo, mandolin, flute, clarinet, saxophone…

Well, what’s stopping you?

So, here’s my version of “Baby Can I Hold You”. Okay, it’s tough to compete with the amazing voice of Tracy Chapman… whatever…

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Silence

Silence

Deafening silence

Engulfs the house

Like a choking cloud of noxious gas

Seeping into every crevice

Of my emotions

The only interruptions

A ticking clock on the wall

Keeping time like a heartbeat

Slow, deliberate time

And fingers hitting a keyboard

The occasional passing car

Or the old house groaning

At the breath of a cold winter day

Otherwise silence

Deafening silence

It conjures up every thought

Every worry

Every memory

Every regret

Where did all the sounds go?

The sounds of laughter and joy

Of celebration and play

Of family and friends

Of food and drink

Of Thanksgiving

Gone overnight

Swept away

As if by the whisk of a broom

Into the dustpan of life’s memories

Now, nothing but silence

Deafening silence

Does your home seem deafeningly quiet after a long holiday weekend spent with family and friends or are you happy for the reprieve?

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Thicker than Pea Soup

It’s foggy today.

I’m working at home and looking out the window I can still, at almost 11:00 am, barely see across my property. The schools were delayed two hours to allow the daylight to show its face so it would be easier for the buses to get to get the kids safely to the classrooms. I drove my kids in and visibility was probably about 30-50 yards.  We get lots of foggy days here, especially this time of year when Mother Nature seems to be frantically trying to figure out if it should be sunny and warm or cloudy and cold, raining or snowing, wet or dry, changing her mind sometimes every few hours.

But this morning she chose it to be foggy.

Thick fog…

Thicker than pea soup…

Does anyone really say that anymore? “Man, the fog this morning was so thick… it was thicker than pea soup!”

More importantly, does anyone really even eat pea soup? I mean, seriously, is there anything more disgusting than pea soup? Maybe the expression should be “that’s more disgusting than pea soup!”

“Hey, I have an idea, let’s take a bunch of split peas, whatever a split pea is… cook them up to oblivion, then mash them up into a puree with some water and salt and pepper and try to pass it off as soup. We can throw in a few cubes of ham and maybe some onions and things so that people won’t think they are eating the most disgusting food that anyone could ever possibly think of.”

Look, if you’re going to try to win me over with your split pea soup recipes in the comments, it’s a moot point, my mind is made up already. I mean, I love most veggies, beans, legumes, cooked, fresh, raw, in soup, in stir fry, whatever. Not a fan of Brussels sprouts or the many varieties of squash or mushrooms. Other than that I’m mostly opened minded. I like soup too, chicken broth based especially. There nothing that says “hey buddy, it’s okay to wrap up in your little blankie with your pajamas and bunny socks on and stare at the TV” than a bowl of chicken soup.

But split pea soup?

I learned early on in my life, probably about 1-2 years old, that my mother was going to sit in front of me with little jars of mashed up food and try to shove it into my mouth. Sometimes there were even flying spoons and airplane noises involved. But it didn’t take long to figure out that the pears and the applesauce were the bomb! But a spoonful of mashed up green mush… my jaw would be “locked up tighter than a drum, tighter than Pandora’s box.”

“Sealed up tighter than a brand new pickle jar at a Thanksgiving Feast.”

By the way, that reminds me, tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I may not always realize it but I have a ton to be thankful for… an amazing wife and kids and family, loyal friends, a beautiful old home, a job, four really cool goats and a few cats, a little bit of writing talent, my health, my family’s health, and of course all you great blogging pals. Did I mention an amazing wife and kids?

I’m thankful for the Jackson Browne CD that is playing in the background right now and in terms of entertainers, the one artist in the world that has had a more profound impact on my life than any other.

Sometimes I have to push through the fog to figure that all out and sometimes that fog can be “as thick as pea soup.”

But not today…

Today that is as clear as day!

Hope you all have a fabulous Holiday filled with turkey and mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce and stuffing and whatever else you eat on Thanksgiving… even if that includes pea soup!

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