At times, I get a kink in my creative tubing.
The most scathingly brilliant ideas form in my noggin, but can't find their way to my fingertips. I think them through thoroughly while washing dishes, hanging laundry, riding in the car, or nodding off to sleep. But when it comes time to type them up, they evade me like a deadbeat avoiding calls from creditors.
My ideas are like a strong-willed toddler trapped up inside a grabber machine. They can't get out without a major intervention from expert extractors, much anxiety is involved, tears are shed, and, like the toddler, they are not quite themselves when released.
These flashes of brilliance, like so many fat black waterbugs, crawl inside the roach motel of my cranium, but can never leave. I feel them skittering around attempting to check out, trying, trying, to no avail. They must be tossed out like yesterday's Caesar salad, once so crisp and flavorful, now limp and tasteless.
Writing is not pretty.
11 comments:
Val, you are one fabulous writer....at least on your blog! LOL. I know exactly what you're talking about. I've felt what you're feeling...and often. Well, not so much of waterbugs crawling inside my head. Thanks a lot for that little tidbit...NOT! (You do paint a picture sometimes that I don't particularly want to remember!):D
I wish I had some magic answers for you, but as you already know...there aren't any. Writing just sucks sometimes!!
I can't remember reading this many great similes and metaphors in so short a space. What you say is certainly true. Writing isn't easy. Not writing is.
Ahh, we have all felt those creeps in our brain. When I get a kink I eat chocolate and lay low for a while. heck I clocked out during Novemeber. Pamper yourself.
Writing is NOT pretty, nor for the weak.
You go get 'em, tiger. I find your stuff to be descriptive and unique, so please do carry on.
Pearl
Nailing some big ol' juicy metaphors sounds like a great way to unkink that tubing to me!
Been there a lot lately! Insomnia has been killing me. I tried writing then, but it would not come out, just kept swimming in my head ......
Becky,
Don't hate the artist. Hate the picture. ;) I will continue to post daily, even if it's sucky. As perhaps you've noticed. I will work through it.
************
Stephen,
The similes and metaphors are my crutch. My Rascal. A way to get from here to there. They, and cliches, are my bread and butter.
************
Linda,
I just treated myself to a Dove Raspberry and Dark Chocolate Swirl. I'm feeling better already. You should add "medical advice" to your repertoire.
************
Pearl,
Thank you so much. Though I'm wondering if your use of "unique" is akin to that doc in a Seinfeld episode referring to both the ugly baby AND Elaine as "breathtaking."
On a side note...I read your blog every day, but I rarely leave a comment. I'm afraid the "unique" gal you sometimes get comments from might follow me home and become a commenter here. Not that I'm too good for a comment that is filled with angry gobbledygook. But I'm easily frightened.
*************
Tammy,
It's as good a plumbing attempt as using hot water to unclog a toilet. Which is how Hick goes about his man-of-the-house duties.
*************
Kathy,
Like a townie swimming around your Kampground pool an hour after closing time?
You are an amazing writer and I bet this is a very rare occurrence :)
Josh,
Thanks! I keep on typing, and can most often salvage some semblance of a post with my trusty toolbag of cliches and metaphors and similes. Heh! For a minute there, I typed "matadors" by mistake. Imagine a toolbag filled with matadors! I'd throw my back out lugging that around.
A toolbox of matadors? That could be fun. Are they handsome, dashing, Spanish-speaking hunks of bull fighers?
That gives a whole new meaning to the word "tool."
Sioux,
I don't know about "tool", but something sure was poking me in that toolbag of matadors!
Post a Comment