Word Play

 

Anyone who undertakes the literary grind had better like playing around with words.

American humorist and journalist, Roy Blount, Jr., was born on this day in 1941.

That’s the thing about writers. We like seeing how words fit together.

Sometimes we force them to work together even when they don’t want to.

And, if you’re a writer like me, if that doesn’t work, you make them up.

Or you spend all night trying to craft the perfect sentence.

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Truth is, my writing here is not that kind of writing. What you usually get here is me struggling to find a quote, or some sort of inspiration, then sitting down at the keyboard…okay, I was already sitting…and typing until I have something that sort of makes sense.

My daily exercise of writing at least 1,000 words has helped tremendously with this process. By the way few of those words, if any, will ever be made public – those of you assigned to clear my cache are also charged with deleting those files.
I digress.

But, don’t forget.

The process of writing is enjoyable, most of the time. But, let’s be clear, it’s also work.

It involves not only finding the right works, but reading, researching, editing, and more.

Including the perfect morning and or evening beverage.

Somewhere in the files, it may even be a post, I have a list of southern writers and their favorite drinks.

I’m not sure that’s really going to help me with putting words together.

It’s funny though. I talk a lot about coffee in the mornings. But, since I eliminated pharmaceuticals from my life and since I’m trying to eat a mostly primal diet, it turns out that I don’t necessarily need coffee in the morning.

Most mornings I’m up, writing, have the boy to the bus, and have left the gym before I get my first cup of coffee.

That’s a good thing.

Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy my morning coffee, but I’m okay if there’s a caffeine delay.

It’s similar in the evenings. I no longer require the evening cup by my keyboard in order to write. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy that as well.

It’s almost as if I get my kicks and my adrenaline rush from the writing and not the coffee or the wine.

Many of you probably never thought you’d hear me say that.

But, what I’m finding, now that I took the step to call myself a writer and not just say I’m someone who wants to be a writer. And now that I’m more deliberately working toward that goal, with plans, and outlines, specific projects, the words flow a little more freely. And, I find that, instead of wanting to be distracted by Facebook, or Twitter, or Netflix (okay, Netflix is running in the background), I want to be able to spend my time writing.

That’s a good thing. The writing sort of calls to me.

And, that’s pretty cool.

I mean it’s not like it wakes me up at night, or hides under the bed. It’s just that I’m constantly drawn to the need to be writing.

I like that.

My problem comes with wanting to do so many other things, act, direct, produce, art…yard work.

Sometimes I crack myself up.

But, when we find our calling, we’ll find the time to make it happen.

I realize that doesn’t happen for everyone, I’m one of the lucky, blessed if you will, ones who managed to figure it out.

Figuring out how to make it lucrative is a story yet to be written.

That’s why, if you’re looking for me, I’ll likely be typing away at the keyboard.

AND, FINALLY…

In music history on this date in 1970, Janis Joplin was found dead of a heroin overdose at the age of 27.



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