Writing makes me crazy

Writing is for introverts.  Publishing is for perfectionists.  Marketing is for extroverts.  Either I really do need to have multiple personalities, or this process is going to expand my talents to a degree that not even I can stand myself.

Okay, that may be an exaggeration, but I have determined that the business of writing/publishing/selling is not for wimps.  Writers create in private and then expose their “babies” to the public with an invitation to validate, tear down, or simply ignore their beautiful gift.  Crazy?  Maybe.  How are we going to get rid of all those voices bouncing around inside our heads if we don’t write them down and share them?

The trouble with writing the voices down is that it truly makes room for more voices.  The more I write – the more I think of to write.  When I don’t write, I have fewer voices, but they are nagging and accusatory. 

Something Soothing

I wonder if writing makes me crazy, or if I write because I am crazy?  No … I think I write because I have so many brilliant ideas it would be a crime not to share them.  That’s it!  Writing makes me brilliant.  It’s the publishing and marketing that makes me crazy!

What talents do you have that you feel increase as you exercise them?

Anybody need a pen?

I have previously confessed that I am a hoarder.  I admit it.  I’m not proud of it.  I am working to recover from it!  I would not consider my hoarding habit unhealthy like those who have rooms full of garbage they refuse to throw away.  Nor am I a compulsive shopper (well, maybe) in that I don’t shop every sale and purchase every two dollar T-shirt I run across with the intent to save them for a rainy day.  I just have a difficult time discarding things that may still have some use in them.  Here is a list of examples:

·         Towels and washcloths

·         Squeeze jars of ketchup, mustard, honey, lotion, dishwashing liquid, etc.

·         Running shoes

·         Writing utensils like those in the photo below.

 

 

The disturbing thing about the pens and pencils is, I don’t know where they come from and I seldom use any of them.  I like a good Sharpie once in a while, red pens come in handy for proofreading, and I have very specific preferences for the type of pen I use for handwriting checks, notes, and blog post ideas! Don’t be mistaken and think that the collection in the photo is really not that big. Those are only the pens I have in my kitchen – the ones I have placed in containers.  I have pens in drawers, nightstands, and purses.  I have pens in my lab, office and bathroom.  Pens in the car and pens in coat pockets. Occasionally I find pens in the washer and pens in the dryer.  That’s when I get really mad!

I am not sure from whence they come.  I know that I did not purchase all of them.  Perhaps I am a pen magnet.  Some arrive by way of my husband’s shirt pocket and I am grateful for those that land on the counter rather than in the laundry! Some must hitch a ride home from hotel rooms, doctor’s offices, and seminars.  Many jump into the free tote bags I pick up at race registrations.  Far be it from me to pass up a good pen, or a poor one, or even to discard one that might still contain a good drop of ink!

I’m going to do something rash today.  I am going to throw away some pens.  I will not gather them into like bundles and secure them with rubber bands as I have done in the past.  I promise to toss some without checking to see if they still write.  I am going to free myself from the pen clutter so I don’t have to think about them and store them and clean around them.  At least, that’s what I am going to do with my kitchen pen collection. I would hate to do anything too drastic!  I may need some of those other pens someday!

 

 



So many options ...

Where to begin?

I’m in a bit of a pickle.  I have several writing projects in various states of completion and some days I don’t know where to begin.  Should I put finishing touches on Edition II of Gold Pans and Iron Skillets?  It isn’t available for release until December 1. Should I work on the book cover to Milk Cans and Quilt Blocks (a companion to Gold Pans and Iron Skillets) or do more editing of this work?  Should I polish my novel or visit with a man about a cover design?  Then there is the one about pain.  That one is still in the first draft process and I am still a little scattered as to the layout.  Here is a hint about the content. Oh … and I have two blogs to nurture!

I can let all of these writing projects overwhelm me or I can look at is as a smorgasbord. I have so many options in front of me that surely there is something that will satisfy.  Unfortunately, I often go for the simple carbs and head right for the blog post.  It’s quick. It’s fun.  The rewards are immediate because I can check post views in real time to see who is reading my stuff.  Those other projects?  I should spend some time on them.  They promise to offer more lasting satisfaction.  But then there are promises and there are sure things.  I’m a chicken – I usually opt for the sure thing! 

Any suggestions? 

Great Ideas Neglected

I hate it when I have a great idea for an essay or a blog post, but I can’t sit down and work on it at the moment.  Too often, the great idea escapes me when the opportunity to document it finally arrives.  Oh, I know the best answer is to jot the idea down quickly and refer to it later, but it usually seems so awesome that I am certain I will remember it. Alas, I do not! 

For instance, I had a Part II to yesterday’s post.  I think it had something to do with “How much is not enough,” but I can’t remember for sure!

Here is what really bothers me.  If I regularly write in my mind and delay putting pen to paper or finger to keyboard, can I really call myself a writer?   I know I am a runner because I do it often enough (and other people see me pounding the pavement) but what defines “writer?”  I have an author’s Facebook page.  Is that what it takes to be legit?  I published a book in 2008.

 

 

 

That was over four years ago.  Two blogs and a couple of online gigs can be added to my portfolio, as well as, a column for Blue Circle Sports.  For some reason, we writers think that dollars validate our talents.  Maybe they do and maybe they don’t.  This much I know – those of us who write HAVE to write and those who don’t write have trouble understanding why we feel compelled to write.  Maybe it’s an addiction.  Better yet, maybe it’s therapy.  You see, this 300 word post just helped me clarify why I write and where I need to focus my efforts.  I took the time to document it.  Maybe tomorrow I will remember why I write!

Hoarder or Procrastinator?

Just like it was yesterday ...

Okay, I’ve admitted that I am a bit of a hoarder.  See this post. I am beginning to wonder if I am truly a hoarder or if I just can’t measure the passing of time.  Hmm?
For instance, my husband and I were visiting a friend recently who confessed that she used to paint her walls every two years.
“Wow!  I probably haven’t painted mine in like … six!”
Hubby cleared his throat and informed me that it had been much longer than that!  I had no idea!
The same thing happened when I went in for what should have been an annual cancer screening.  (It’s the one us girls would prefer to have a car ran over our rib cage than endure.) 
“Um, it’s been a couple years …” I confessed.
“More like eight,” the not-so-cheerful receptionist muttered.  Who knew?
Today I replaced the well-used quilt covering my bed with a crisp new coverlet. It’s like I have a new room!  Now I probably won’t have to paint the walls for some time yet.  After all, it’s only been … oh … ten, maybe twelve years …

Artwork for Grandma

I've certainly mellowed with age.  When my children "decorated" my walls with crayons, pencils, and pens, I was unhappy and probably even a little bit unkind.  Didn't those children know how hard it was to keep a clean house without added wall scrubbing? 
Things have changed.  When my granddaughters visited last summer, the three year-old did a little redecorating in several places!  I miss those little girls when they leave, so I have retained the new artwork.  It helps me feel connecte. I appreciate it so much more than I used to!
I think the time has come to remove the artwork.  The girls are coming back!  As they will be visiting during the holidays, I think I can withstand the separation until December. So, if I can bring myself to do it, I will be scrubbing walls next week.  In the meantime, I'm gonna enjoy it just a little longer!  

Blech!

I cleaned out my pantry yesterday.  If you have been following my blog then you know that I am an admitted hoarder.  This character flaw is magnified when I have invested time and money into those items I tend to hoard, such as bottled fruits and vegetables.  Sometimes they get pushed to the back of the shelf just long enough for me to question their safety for consumption.  Now, that would be the moment that a wiser woman might open the jar, dump its contents, and wash the jar for future use.
Not me!  I will wipe the outside of the jar clean and reverently place it back on the shelf until such time as I run across it and question its safety once again!  Yesterday the item was pickled beets from 2002!
I dumped it!

Raisinet Binge!

I just ate a whole box of Raisinets all by myself.  That is roughly 380 calories!  I always knew I was a stress eater.  Sad, though, I am still hungry.  I could eat another box!

Reality Check?

I had to renew my driver's license this week.  That's right - I am having a birthday.  It's not a significant one.  That happened last year. 
I don't know why, but the driver's license renewal is just unappealing to me.  It is especially bothersome since Idaho went to the eight year plan. Daily stuff like making my bed and brushing my teeth do not present themselves as nuisances.  It's the annual things that get to me - taxes, vehicle registrations, and physical exams.  I just don't seem to have time for those! Those things on an eight year rotation ... why bother?
The driver's license renewal is a bit of an honesty check, is it not?  I'm really squeaking to pass the eye test!  I forgot and left my distance glasses home. (I seldom use them!) The weight question always gets me. 
"Is your weight still the same?"
"Well, no, it has gone down a bit, but actually it is closer to the weight listed.  Just leave it." (I've been lying about my DL weight for years!)
Hair color?  That changes all the time!
It is good, too, that they do the eye test prior to snapping the photo.  I couldn't see a thing afterwards!  I hope I recognize my signature.
Friends have been complaining about the "new" Idaho license design.  I don't think it has anything to do with the new design.  I think we just hate the whole experience.  It's just too revealing.

Just Run, Write?

I have raised a family of runners. Now one might think that because I run and my offspring run they must have taken after me. Not so. In this case the egg really did come before the chicken. The truth is these Greens run because we are not good at sports requiring a lot of equipment, especially balls. Baseball, basketball, football, volleyball, tennis, and golf just have too many parts to coordinate. So we run … and we do math.

“But in order to run 400 meters in a minute I will have to run every 100 meters in 15 seconds...”

“If my opponent runs his/her best time then I will have to run this time to beat him/her...”

“There are 10 hurdles in the race and I have to clear every hurdle...”

“If you run a 6 minute mile pace you will be way under 19 minutes on a 5k ...”

And so on …

My advice to my mathematician runners was always this, “Just run!”

If they would just stop fretting about the obstacles and run, they might clear all those obstacles in the process. They often did.

I don't heed my own advise.

I write because I enjoy it. I am better at writing than I am at crafting, scrapbooking, record keeping. So I write .. and I make excuses.

“If I take time to write and nobody ever reads it, then I have wasted my time ...”

“I have other things I should be doing, like housework ...”

I have writer's block!”

And so on …

What advice might I heed?

“Just write!”

Desktop

Dirty dusty documents deepening daily on my desk.

Do I dust, ditch, or determine direct destinations

Diminishing droves of data and debris?

Daydreams delay decision and divert the dread of debt.

Dynamite? Decomposition? Does dropping in the dumpster

Do dire damage or dispense delight?

Another Running Lesson

Non-runners often wonder what makes runners want to run. Why do we do it? There isn't just one answer, and frankly, runners don't always know why they run. They can, however, tell you many things that running teaches them. This is just one lesson:

Walking is not an option.

Running is and always will be hard. The farther one can run, the farther he must push himself. The greater his condition, the faster he goes. He often wants to stop. What a luxury it would be just to stop and walk for a minute. He could catch his breath, work out a kink or two, and then run again when he felt stronger. During every run, and especially during every race, the thought crosses his mind, “I would really like to walk.”

Sometimes he does. When he does indulge in this luxury, he finds he feels better – for a moment. Then he must run again, and picking up the pace is difficult. He also finds that he is tempted more frequently to take a breather and walk. It is better to continue to run.

I sometimes find myself there, not on the road or the track, but in life. So many times it would feel good to just walk a bit – to rest. Unfortunately, when I feel the most like resting are the times it is critical to keep moving forward. A breather could prove costly!

“I would really like to walk,” but walking is not an option. It is better to continue to run.

College Football Junkie

I have suddenly become a college football junkie. It is evidenced by my lack of direction this Saturday. Three key teams lay dormant today and I don't know what to do with myself! I mainline on Boise State Broncos, but I get quick fixes from the wins and losses of those teams above and below them in the polls whose fates play into the future of the Broncos.

These are the signs and symptoms of my disorder:

A - Schedule social calendar around Bronco football. As illness progresses, schedule social calendar around Alabama, TCU, Auburn, Oregon, Oregon State, Utah, and Virginia Tech football.
B - Root for Broncos to beat Virginia Tech, Oregon State, Hawaii, Fresno State, and Nevada.
C - Root for Broncos to annihilate all other opponents.
D - Root against Alabama and Oklahoma - always. Except on the occasion that Alabama plays Auburn - then root for Alabama.
E - Root for Virginia Tech, Oregon State, Hawaii, Fresno State, and Nevada to beat every other team they play.
F - Root against Oregon, Auburn, and TCU through out the season.
G - Panic if the Broncos do not score on their first drive.
H - Panic if the Broncos have a turnover - any turnover.
I - Become a fan of Kirk Herbstreit and Lou Holtz.
J - Call for Mark May's resignation.
K - Wonder what will become of your Saturday's when the college football season is over.
L - Hate the BCS. Love the BCS. Hate the BCS ...

I could go on, but there is a game on and I might need to help somebody win ... or lose. I may just have to yell at the commentators if they elaborate on the Broncos in the wrong fashion ...

Voice Mail

I have a bit of a problem with voice mail - I forget to check it! The old answering machine system worked for me because the flashing light said to me "Emergency! You have a message!" I could push a button when I walked in the door and listen to the messages as I unloaded my groceries, hung up my coat, placed my keys in a safe place that I would eventually forget about, etc. Voice mail works differently and not so efficiently for me.

Voice mail on my home phone only alerts me when I pick up the phone. I only pick up the phone when I am answering a call or wish to make one. By the time I have completed my call, I have forgotten about the beeping voice mail notification.

I often go several days before feeling the need to check my voice mail. This was a blessing during the recent general election. Why? Thanks to Caller ID I ignored any number that I did not recognize. My reasoning: if it is important, the caller will call back. I checked my voice mail today on this election day. I had thirteen voice messages! Of those thirteen messages, two were legitimate messages, three were from telephone solicitors, and eight were recorded messages from various campaigns around the state. The phone has been very quiet today!

So ... if you really need to contact me - identify yourself! Or ... you can always call back or send me an email. I apologize, but ignoring my voice mail just kind of works for me.

Have I Lost My Touch?

Maybe I should reconsider baking. As noted in my seldom read and less often purchased book, "Gold Pans and Iron Skillets," I believe baking serves as therapeutic activity for many ailments not the least of which is hunger. Let's just name a few - boredom, frustration, aggravation, depression, and a down turned economy! However, I've been having a little trouble lately.

My zucchini bread was squishy inside. That was weird since I added five minutes to the timer and then another five. Hmm. The tomatoes I was bottling at the same time proved to be very well-done. As it turns out, I had my timers confused. The bread needed another ten minutes. The tomatoes, on the other hand, should be very safe to eat.

Zucchini is plentiful so I baked more bread a few days later. This time I was cautious to use only one timer. That would have worked out fabulously if I had been in the house at the moment it buzzed! I believe I made up the ten minutes that I shorted the previous batch. This bread did not want to come out of the pans. I suppose it had been there so long it thought it was supposed to stay.

Unleavened bread happens by mistake. At least that's how it happens at my house. The focaccia bread I stirred up to go with the tomato bruschetta sauce that I made from my garden produce smelled delicious. It looked like a cracker. It chewed like leather. It tasted fine, but I am now wondering what is happening on my insides as it was difficult for the sink disposal to chew it up!

I'm wondering if I've lost my touch.

Is There a Support Group?

My name is Carol and I am a hoarder. This is evidenced by the number of bath towels I recently placed in a trash bag, tied neatly in a knot, still residing near the back door, thinking about making its way to the garbage cans outside. One might wonder at my actual hoarder status as I have taken steps to discard my old towels. I repeat, they are still residing near the back door.
It is difficult to part with said towels as some of them were acquired when I married – twenty-four years ago! It was a year for towels. Some brides receive blenders. Others are blessed with five or six irons. I received neither of those. There must have been a terrycloth liquidation that year. The volume of towel gifts I received might explain why they are still in my closet, except for the fact that several of them have been in use since week one of my blissful marriage.
How many bath towels are needed by a household of three? Three? Six? Forty? As many as you can stuff into one closet? Of course, there is always the possibility of company. It would be a crime to run out of towels when guests are about. However, the twenty-four year-old towels are simply unfit for guests.
As I emptied the closet, I wondered, “Why do I hang onto things so long?” Could it be I have a primal fear that if I discard them they may never be replaced? What if I come upon a rainy day and I have no storage of bath towels? This might be a valid concern but for the drawer full of new bath towels in the spare room. They belong to my son – graduation gifts! How many bath towels does one college student need? Five? Ten? As many as he can store at his mother’s house?
I think I’ll tackle shoes next.