A Chip Off the Old Writer’s Block, or These Prompts are Going to Break Up with Me If I Keep This Up. Day 59 of 100 Days of Writing.

My next door neighbors have 27 trees they need cut down and chipped into mulch. Twenty-seven trees. They are all dead from the emerald ash bore, and it’s truly tragic to lose so many beauties.
That being said, the chipper parked itself in our shared driveway this morning and the workers pulled their chainsaws to life.  The process began at 7:49 this morning and continued for ten hours. Ten.  It will go on for the entire week at least.
There is no such thing as a quiet wood chipper or a chain-saw silencer. Not even dirty looks shushed things down.
I’m wondering if the Universe has a sense of humor. I hope that’s what it is. I’d love to think that the energy force that unites us all — the stardust within — is made of laughter, even the mocking kind.
I begin with a few prompts. The author of the book of prompt started by lobbing some softballs…a promise ceremony of sorts. This is, I believe, in part to take the process seriously and in part to be able to say “I’ve started writing!”

Schedule a specific time to write

Preferably before 8pm and at times when there is little to no deforestation going on in the neighbor’s back yard.

* List positive messages you have received about writing or about any creative undertaking.

“Your parallel parking cracks me up.”
“I’ve never seen anyone try to descretely pick a wedgie out without using their hands. Well done!”
“Did you do that on purpose?” (after I dance)

* Acknolwedge that Writing is hard. Write it down. Then write about how you’re going to make writing happen.

Writing is hard.
‘It down.’
I’m going to send messages to my fingers to shape or type letters that will form words that mostly convey what I am thinking.

* If you’re blessed to have a friend or two who also struggles to write, create a schedule on which you check in every day, noting with a simple X next to the date that you did or did not write.

Is that English? Also, my friends (“blessings” and otherwise) all seem to either have written entire plays/ novels/manifestos or they are functionally illiterate. Guess which group is more fun to drink with?

 * Collect some motivational statements about writing or about creativity or about perseverance. Post them where you write.

“Everyone has a plan ’till they get punched in the mouth.” — Mike Tyson

“Sorry,  I wish we had a speculum warmer in this office.” — my gynecologist

“No…oh, wait, yes. Maybe. MAYBE.” — me.

“And if a double-decker bus. Crashes into us. To die by your side. Is such a heavenly way to die.” — Dude from high school quoting Morrissey under his yearbook picture.


 

 

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