Inspiration vs. Perspiration (or, The Games Writers Play)

The time when inspiration is most likely to strike is twenty minutes before you have to be somewhere, while you’re brushing your teeth. You will not be dressed for this event, nor will any household dependents be in progress toward getting out the door or setting up to stay home.

This is why God invented notepads. And cellphones with that voice dictation function. Depending on which is easier for you in your time crunch, jot down the idea, or grab your phone and send yourself a voice email. “JoAnne, self-protection, dogs and doctors” is one I just sent myself at 8:50. I was due at 9 am to help the local churches pack for the food pantry distribution, a thing I have wanted to do since arriving here in Fayetteville.

28235827_1906944399316615_289168906_nI’m in Fayetteville because of a wonderful program at Lafayette Flats, run by Shawn and Amy. You can look it up with that link. The point being, at 8:50 the link to how Chapter 14 related to the rest of the story so far, the way it could be shoehorned in to being a part of the whole, not a side journey, flowed into my brain as I brushed my hair.

Those key words will get me back to where I need to go (as soon as I finish writing this blog). They will not get me past the BS games writers play with themselves that “if we only had time, what glorious things we could write.” Now I have time, and now I have the note that says how to do it. Now my butt and the chair need to be best friends for awhile. Writing is 90% butt sloth and finger exercise, 10% inspiration. This is why many writers have big bums and you should never offer to thumb wrestle with one. The wrist of a writer should be registered as a deadly weapon.

Big bums, strong fingers, notepads (or iPhones) and time: that’s how writing gets done. Plus a little human interaction now and then. I loved helping the team at the food pantry.

Back to writing now….

 

 

“Baldrick, the only way you’d get a wet kiss is in the water closet!”

19429917_1872839233039103_365946916303730842_nToday’s post is from Mike Still, a volunteer at Hazel House. Please rest assured that what happened to him won’t happen again….. and we wish him well in therapy.

My name is Mike Still, and I am an adjunct lecturer Communications. I’m also a nice guy, and a cat lover, so I volunteer at Hazel House.

I made a vital discovery Thursday while doing cat duty at Hazel House. A seven-pound (estimated) cat can move an eight-pound weight with relative ease.

Having filled up one of the large pitchers to top off the inhabitants’ water bowls, I found myself distracted by the charms of resident older kittens Frankie and Licorice. Telling myself that Dido – the usual occupier of the dresser in HH’s Hemingway room – is long on personality but short on body mass, I set the pitcher on top of her dresser and sat down in the floor to romp with the kittens.20258203_1891515134504846_4609540728349224597_nDIDO, pre-deed

After five minutes of play culminating in Licorice in my lap and Frankie on my knee, it happened. The relative humidity jumped without warning to an audible saturation and precipitation point. Frankie leaped and ran, avoiding much of the drastic physical change. Licorice was a bit slow, catching a substantial portion of the gallon of water that flowed onto my left side.

As the pitcher landed on the floor and the air turned rapidly into indigo around my mouth, Licorice sat there in amazement, shock and water. I caught a glimpse of a tannish-gray flash from the dresser to the far side of the room as Dido made her escape.

20246268_1891515204504839_1308763949938646724_n(Incidentally, there’s nothing like drying off a black kitten still in denial of the presence of liquid appearing in mid-air.) Licorice is a good kid, though, and shouldn’t show any signs of shock for some months.

As for Dido, she understands that mass AND velocity overcome mass any day of the week.

After mopping up the water, I headed out to get dry clothes. Stopping at the Valero gas station in Appalachia for a Diet Dr. Pepper, I was helpfully informed by the clerk that I could get a second one for just a dollar.

“No thanks,” I said. “This should just about meet my fluid needs for the day.”

20431557_1892722441050782_7311504748388822271_n

DIDO, post-deed