After yesterday’s blog post, I got lots of encouragement and one great idea. Change focus. So instead of talking about writing I’m going to talk about television.
I ‘m not much of a drinker and I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life but, I, Mayor of Crazie Town, am a Home Improvement Show addict.
Really, any kind of an improvement show will do. Fixer Upper. Project Runway. Life Below Zero. Recently I binge watched something called Building Off the Grid, or some such name. One guy had a team build a mud house, shaped a lot like a tulip, on his remote property. It’s not totally useless information. I mean, I have a remote farm and now I SO want to build a tulip-shaped mud house there.
I’ve watched so many of these shows I seem to have lost the ability to follow something with an actual plot. Husband likes detective shows so we watch those together in the evening, only nobody’s building anything so I get bored. I’ve tried out one of those adult coloring books but am always disappointed in the results. I scan Facebook and Twitter and Instagram but no one’s building anything there either and I get itchy for a fix. Eventually, I sneak upstairs and and shoot up some HGTV.
I, Mayor of Crazie Town, am a Home Improvement Show addict and I’m taking it one day at a time.
Day 15 of the 30 Day Writing Experiment.
I’m running out of steam.
Do I even want to be a writer?
I love the creating side of the business but hate the “business” side of the business. The Duotrope website has thousands of opportunities for submissions but when I open the tab, I don’t see opportunities for being published, I see thousands of opportunities for being rejected.
Perhaps my next experiment should be 30 days of rejections?
Had an exciting day with my trainer – the one that I hate because he’s trying to kill me but also love because he’s trying to make me healthy.
Anyway, today — as I was pumping iron — I noticed the boxing side of the gym getting very busy. They have a new trainer who works with people with Parkinson’s Disease and they all seemed to arrive at the same time. And then a guy carrying camera equipment came in and joined them. Look for a story in the Kansas City Star.
While that was going on, another trainer was trying to get an older woman up on the stair machine (even I could have told her that was a bad idea). The woman yelled, “I’m going down!” Someone appeared with a chair before she hit the ground, but there was no getting her up from that point.
About five minutes later, two firemen arrived.
Two minutes after that the EMTs arrived and started weaving a gurney through the weight benches.
The owner’s of the gym have just adopted a deaf puppy who tried to escape each time the door was opened so there was a lot of shouting at her, which obviously did no good.
A guy walked in an wanted a tour of the gym.
The phone rang.
Did any of this dissuade my previously gentle trainer from shouting at me to do 15 more squats? I think you already know the answer.
Right now, I’m sitting in my living room reading over legal documents about my aunt’s will and laughing out loud to Despicable Me 2.
Earlier today I was at the farm using a chainsaw and directing a guy in a bulldozer to clear land. — By the way, favorite redneck moment: Bulldozer guy poured gasoline on a pile of dead trees and threw a kitchen match at the pile. WHOOSH. ” ‘At right thar,” he paused to spit “is the worse way to start a far.” —
When it came time to pay bulldozer guy, I picked up my delicate lemon yellow purse with the silk scarf tied to the handle and pulled out the checkbook. “Purty bag,” bulldozer guy said.
I’m still trying to figure out who I want to be when I grow up, and I’m not sure days like this help clear up this problem for me.
Today’s another day of asking myself why we bought this house. Our original intention was to downsize. Then our house sold on the first day and we found ourselves in an apartment that we hated and we were desperate and…I don’t know. It must have seemed like a good idea at one point.
This house is what they call a reverse story and half, or something weird like that. Master bedroom on first floor. Two bedrooms and two family rooms in the
basement garden level. With just Husband and I living here, we’ve tended to stake out our spaces. I get the upstairs living room for TV watching and a corner of the kitchen for my writing desk. I keep my areas fairly clean. Sure, you can write your name in the dust, but there aren’t any cobwebs hanging from the ceiling.
Downstairs, that’s another matter. For months I’ve known that the spiders were taking over down there, but I guess…I just really didn’t care. Now, two siblings decided to stay for a weekend and something had to be done.
Of course (well, of course if you’re me) once I started cleaning I decided the layout was all wrong and spent the day moving an ancient iron bed from one room to another, exchanging it with a set of twin beds. And of course I couldn’t just exchange the beds, I had to decorate the rooms – which required finding nails…and a hammer…and a level…and…well, that’s just how I do things. I bite off way more than I can chew and then add a few more bits for good measure, a bit like this writing every day idea.
FYI: In between rearranging the rooms, I DID clean. Really. Just ask the spiders now living in my vacuum cleaner bag.
Thank you, my little lab rats, for letting me practice on you.
Some days I wake up and know exactly what I want to write about and some days I need a little
cheat help. When that happens I search the web for writing prompts. Mostly I cruise them without much inspiration. I scrolled through this list the other day.
- Write about an animal. — I’ve written about my dog already.
- What if _____ had feelings? — Crazie Town is ALL about feelings.
- Write about doing laundry or dishes. — Fascinating right?
- Write about a dragon. — Ummmm. No thank you.
- Write about being in unusual surroundings. — Too hard.
I walked away from my computer but couldn’t quit thinking about the stupid dragon and then I thought
what if the dragon is a writer and is depressed about not being able to write?
and what if
the dragon makes herself a cup of tea and chips a piece of ice off her wall to cool it off?
and what if
The dragon runs out of ink and her ink is made from blood so she has to go find some human to harvest the blood from?
Some weird and wonderful stuff appeared on the page. I think my favorite is:
Aunt Marlene told her she couldn’t keep waiting for Prince Charming to ride up on his white horse and drop dead in front of her.
Does this dragon seem in any way to actually be me? Absolutely not.