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I haven’t written enough lately to even grace it with the name of writer’s block. Stuck at home here in Iowa with a foot of snow on the ground and sub zero temps, I should have the perfect setting for writing. Still, I feel like if I did, people may look at this blog to find something akin to “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” My brain is seriously not functioning. Ironically, the non-functioning part comes from not writing so I’m going to unclog those pipes, look up some writing prompts (throwback to my English teacher days) and just go for it. You’ve been warned.

(5 minutes later)

I’m back with with nothing. Unless you’re a beginning writer (think elementary student), writing a personal essay for a college application, or need ideas for a short story, you’re pretty much out of luck. Actually, I didn’t spend a lot of time searching, although my internet kung fu does rock. I don’t do creative writing or short stories, although there is an argument that all writing is creative…except when it isn’t, like now, when I’m just writing about not writing. Ugh. One more try…

(another 5 minutes later)

Here’s an interesting one: “On the other side of that door…”

Write about what you know, right? Well, here it is:

On the other side of that door right there is a hallway. One way leads to a guest room containing bunk beds from back when he had foster children. Right across from that door right here is my bedroom with a bed still warm from the long nap I took this afternoon. Going down the hall to the left of that door right here you’ll see doggy gate at the end and a pocket door on your right. Opening that door takes you into the kitchen where you’ll find my husband, three dogs at his feet, making homemade pasta.

“Oh, your husband cooks,” you may think to yourself. “Not really,” I’d respond, “although he does make an awesome breakfast with eggs, chorizo, and tortillas.” No, my husband is making pasta because he had never done it before and thought it would be interesting. He also knew I was feeling down and hoped it would cheer me up. It did. I am. He met me at the door saying, “You’re not supposed to be up yet.” Then the explanation of why he was doing what he was doing came out and I quickly grabbed my laptop and headed for my office to write SOMETHING.

Funny thing is, it was only the day before yesterday when I thought to myself “I should make pasta.” I do cook and I enjoy pasta, but I’ve only made it once and those were egg noodles, I think. I didn’t mention this thought to my husband and yet here he is, two days later, making pasta in our kitchen. We have a psychic link, he and I, and I don’t say that sarcastically or even lightly, we really do seem of one mind a lot of the time. This isn’t to say we are one person or that we have identical interests, preferences, or talents (he’s an artist, I’m a writer…or trying to be). Still, we often think the same things at similar times and it’s more than just coincidence, if such a thing existed…which I guess it does so scratch that last part.

I wonder if ending here would leave my readers (ha, like adding an S to that word magically creates an audience) frustrated? I hate non-endings and from what I’ve read from people who listened to the Serial podcast, I’m no the only one. Maybe my ending will come later and just adding a coy “stay tuned” to the end of this would make me walk away feeling accomplished. I suppose that’s the point of this anyway. I titled the post Just Write SOMETHING because lately I haven’t been writing ANYTHING and something is better than nothing, in this case anyway.

So I accomplishes my goal, I wrote something. I think that’s enough for now because I really am close to typing out repeating sentences about Jack working and not playing. So I’ll leave you with this…

Stay tuned.







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