Friday, November 21, 2014

A Southern California, November-Beautiful Day

Writing is hard. What do I do when I can’t write another word? When my eyes glass over and my fingers go numb? When all I can come up with is a passive verb and an abstract adjective? It was a beautiful day. Oh God! A writer’s nightmare! Absolutely.  Cold, dead words clog the flow of creative juices. A brain freeze squeezes across my forehead like a vise. What do I do?

I clock out. Shut down. Save and shut down. Always backup. The screen fades to black. I’m off the grid, the author’s grid. I take in my surroundings. My environment is clouded in a layer of dust. I get out the Pledge. The waste basket needs dumping. Rewrites that have been rewritten. It’s garbage day. Change the cat litter and drag the cans outside to the curb.

It is a beautiful day, Southern California, November- beautiful. I retired six months ago from a day job that, most often, consumed fifty to sixty hours of my week. I dreamed of days swaying in my swing on my secluded patio, reading   and napping.

I’m off the grid. Writers write, but this writer grabbed a stack of books just waiting for a Southern California, November-beautiful day.  I passed the afternoon swinging, reading, and dozing. The cold dead words, melted by the eighty degree sunshine, gave life to the inspirational pages.

A Southern California, November- beautiful day is short. It retires to an afternoon chill and sunset shadows. A long walk in the hills finishes my day off the grid. I am renewed and inspired.

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