Today’s post comes from tim
i remember hearing about , i think i even read the book by amy tan about the travelers to myanmar (burma… siam) where the story came to her in one sitting and she simply sat down at the desk and out it came from her brain to her fingers to the page to our published finished product. well it was a pretty good book and i think the bridges of madison county came about the same way if i remember the way that story goes… it seems a bit hokey but the truth is the magic is in us and the release is the thing we all search for.
i was watching monday night football last night and one of he running backs who was having a great night had been asked why he is doing so well this year and he said he just quit thinking about running and let his legs run. i think that is the way it is with life and with all great things on the planet. you dont need to over anaylize them , you just let them go and kind of follow along like water down the driveway to the curb to the hill to the drain pipe on the corner. if it is engineered correctly and life often times is… we can wake up, let the flow carry us as it should and hopefully the destination is a more ideal setting than the drainpipe on the corner but the destination has likely been charted to be no surprise by the steps we take.
my sons two favorite movies are good will hunting and shawshank redemption. he can watch these over and over again. in one the hero is a smart guy who does his job and the end result is that the bad guys turn out to be the heads of the prison and he escapes from their suppression and they get caught and in the other the hero is a guy who is super smart and has the challenge of figuring out his way in the worlld. his role , who he loves and how he faces it with the help of another person who struggled in a similar fashion.
it is interesting where the stories and lessons of life take us. where our fingertips take us if we let them. it is automatic as can be. this is not the best damn blog entry ever written but it took my fingers little time to get it down and out the chute.
what would you write if the word you just typed couldn’t be taken back and the next one was coming up whether you liked it or not? how would the stories unfold if your fingers took over for your brain? automatic writing 101 anyone?
start with the first word that enters your mind and follow it with he next and see where it takes you. fun stuff this mindless drivel
produce. maybe you will be better.
ready set go!!!
All right, tim. Do I have anything to say this morning using your method. I will use punctuation because I am not ready to let it flow without that. Does your let it flow method allow me to write without editing. I usually need a lot of editing to get rid of the many typos in my writing. I will skip the editing and see what happens. So far I am just talking about writing and not rally find ing anything to write about. I suppose I am writing about something which is writing about writing. While I am skipping editing today, I do like well edited writing. However, I think the let it flow approach is a style that works for some people. Of course, the person I am thinking of that seems to be able to make this work is you, tim.
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Meta-writing!
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Some years ago I took a college creative writing class. We had to keep a daily journal of unedited, spontaneous writing. From that we took subjects to develop and write stories. When I have to write something now, it may flow at first, but I consider that a rough draft and I then go back and edit, refine it.
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Thanks, tim – I really needed that part this morning about not overthinking. December is a hard month for me – no matter how I try to pare it down, there’s always some wild card that gets me bogged down. Husband chose this week to refinish the living room floor… I haven’t even got the little tree out. Letting go of some of my expectations (perfection of whatever) might go a long way to easing my mind.
“…he just quit thinking about running and let his legs run” sounds like a really good idea about now.
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The description of writers tapping into some cosmic flow for their work always reminds me of the Sam Cooke song A Change is Gonna Come. Peter Guralnick said this about the song: “It was less work than any song he’d ever written. It almost scared him that the song — it was almost as if the song were intended for somebody else. He grabbed it out of the air and it came to him whole, despite the fact that in many ways it’s probably the most complex song that he wrote. It was both singular — in the sense that you started out, ‘I was born by the river’ — but it also told the story both of a generation and of a people.”
Writing has never been that way for me, alas. I’ve always had a lot of trouble settling on something to write about. Most of the time I draw a blank. Having a topic assigned is only slightly less difficult. I certainly envy writers who are able to complete a project without struggling over it.
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I agree that settling on a topic can be the hard part. Lately for the blog posts I’ve been grasping at straws, and it seems that some of the work better than others, but Oh Well.
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These dead tissues in the waste basket are just ugly. Now the water I’m drinking is horrible. What are they putting in there? There’s a pistachio I didn’t open. The three second rule applies. More Airborne, please. I’m sick. Gotta go into the immediate care. What book should I take with me? Nothing is “immediate.” I need more jewel cases. I’m 63 today. Why? I don’t think I like this “stream of consciousness” writing. Reading it back sounds like a Donald Trump speech. Horrible.
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Why are you 63? Because only a damn fool would choose 73 if 63 is possible. C’mon, man!
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Is today your birthday, Wes?
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It is.
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Then a hipy papy bthuthdth thuthda bthuthdy to you, with love from Pooh.
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What she said. I hope you’re not really sick and you have a grand day.
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Don’t know if you meant to say that today is your birthday, Wes, but Happy Birthday, if it is. Sorry you’re sick, that’s no way to celebrate.
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Thanks. This cold has been on me for two weeks. Now it feels like the pneumonia I had years ago. Beans!
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probiotic
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Zinc.
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is today your birthday or is it simply a day that you are 63?
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12/12/1952
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Happy Birthday wessew!
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I’ve been a writer virtually all my life. I know what it is like when my muse spontaneously begins to sing. At such moments I frantically write down everything she says. But when I look at it the next day I realize my muse is often a lot like Old Blevins. She isn’t half as profound as she thinks she is. At the very least, she needs a damn good editor to find something of value in all the crap she spews.
All my life I’ve struggled to find the right balance. Part of me grins and says Just Do It! Part of me hints that if I Just Do It I won’t like myself in the morning. The two voices natter on ceaselessly, never agreeing. And as near as I can tell, they’re both right.
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Mega-like.
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I wonder if this stream of consciousness writing thing could be applied to shooting pictures.
A few weeks ago, on a cold Saturday, I went out to shoot for an assignment and I couldn’t go to my first choice location, so I went to one nearby. then i drove down the road and came across a small pond across from lake of the isles. i went out on the dock to shoot some pictures for the same assignment, well, those didn’t turn out so hot, i didn’t even turn them in, but the ice was starting to freeze around the edge of the pond and there was some cool patterns in the ice and it looked cool with the plants sticking up through the patterned ice so i shot some pics of that and i couldn’t use them for that assignment but i asked the teacher if i could use a different catergory for one of the pictures in my portfolio for a different class and he said yes, so i put in one of the ice pictures and the teacher not only said it was a cool picture but everyone in the class who said anything about my portfolio said they really liked it, too. and here i was trying to shoot something for another assignment but i found something better.
by the way the first pictures i took for the assignment, when i went somewhere because i couldn’t get into Plan A place, those were well received by the class, too. and when i looked at the portfolios of the other students (for the other class), the story behind several of the best pictures was they were shooting something else and then this other thing caught their eye and it turned out to be a portfolio-worthy picture. Huh.
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so while you are doing what you need to do be alerted that life may whack you up side the head while you are focused on something else. i am the person who sits on my damn phone while an epiphany is occurring in front of me. i am trying to get better and being here now.
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Our immediate crisis is that we have coffee grounds from home with no coffee maker in our spartan motel room. We shall see what solution we arrive at.
I write psychological evaluations at work by using a dictaphone. I compose while looking at documents and test data. I try to get it right the first time so my secretary doesn’t have to fuss with multiple revisions.
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wouldnt it be fun to make up a bunch of stuff that would raise the eyebrows on the secratary as he/she typed it up and then you could tell them you were messing with them and give them the real deal.
just saying….
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Give me the things I have to write about in my evaluations, I would be hard pressed to raise my secretary’s eyebrows.
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I look for ideas for the Trail by keeping an eye out for things in my daily life that I find to be funny or that somehow just posted out at me.
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Popped, not posted.
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Wow, I hadn’t even noticed that…
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Once I was listening to a Neko Case song and thought I heard her sing “Centipedes invade my thoughts,” and I thought, “Did she just say ‘centipedes invade my thoughts’? I must’ve misheard that.” So I googled the song lyrics. She DID say “Centipedes invade my thoughts”. There are days I can totally relate to that.
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Barbara McAfee (mentioned yesterday) calls them “brain rats”.
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Yes. Scurrying and gnawing and rustling.
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i would like a day when i couldnt
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We had friends pick up a small drip coffee maker in Rapid City on their way here. Sigh! What wonderful coffee! Now off to a Baptist mission led by a fairly earnest but histrionic pastor to play rock and roll, hand out Christmas presents, and read the Christmas story. Of course, all the half baked plans are already falling through and she has loads of folks going to show up for chili but nowhere to serve them since the tent didn’t arrive. This will be a guest post!
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for Linda
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and for Wes:
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I’m feeling a bit disheartened today. I’ve written my whole life, and occasionally felt that a piece is truly eloquent and special. Such was a story a few weeks ago using a metaphor of the only loon on crystal bay and how people yearn for partnering. Then, a few days ago, I wrote a story about how I experienced my mother’s death. I felt really good about both stories, until I shared them with my friend, Ned.
Ned’s a 40-year retired therapist who’s been taking writing classes for years and is methodically crafting a fictitious novel. In his classes, student critiques are given. He revises and revises and revises his story.
I made the mistake of emailing both of my stories because I was proud of them. His response was to reply with numerous corrections on everything from grammar, spelling, quotation marks, changes in themes, and what to leave out. Suddenly, my spontaneous and inspired stories were riddled with faults. Several of my friends with whom I share these short stories rave about them and urge me to “write a book”. Ned sees all the flaws.
And so, one of the few gifts I thought I possessed feels “not good enough”. The real story of my childhood, I guess.
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Maybe Ned is wrong. I know loads of therapists who go to one training after anther and still are lousy tberapists. Perhaps that is the case with Ned and his writing.
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Cb, why are you letting Ned’s critique of your writing weigh heavier than the feedback you have received from others? Very successful writers have submitted their work, and received rejections numerous times, before they met with success.
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Exactly. Some people are just like that. And they just think they’re being helpful; they don’t mean it to be mean or to put you off.
And it is hard to face that and still put it out there. But that’s what we want you to do. That’s what YOU wanted to do.
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you knew ned was a twit when you sent it to him. you made him feel better with his red pen.
just for fun write a dy peice of nothing with no interesting or redeeming qualities and submit to the turd and see him praise its lack of errors. his criteria is messsed up.
the loon blog was a good one cb. i liked it a lot
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Thank you all so much for your support!!! Ned’s been working on a book for a long time and when he emails chapters to me, I praise and praise them. It goes without saying that what you put out is what you’d like to get back. It doesn’t help that my grandfather, father, and brother are all very gifted writers. Again, thank you.
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“You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time”.”
― John Lydgate
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Portland has a popular band, an eight-person band called The Trail Band. The Trail Band does an annual Christmas concert that is always sold out. Last night I drove through a lashing rain to my daughter’s home. We had a pleasant evening and supper, then drove to a lovely old 1920s neighborhood theater (a lot like the Orpheum and Pantages theaters in Minneapolis). Built for vaudeville, later converted to a movie theater, the Aladdin has now entered its third career as a folk music performance space. Liam, my five-year-old grandson was an enthusiastic audience member, dancing by his seat, applauding wildly and laughing at jokes. He loves music. Liam was lookin’ good dressed up in brand new duds. When his dad complimented him and noted that his new pants “fit good,” Liam quietly corrected him, “They fit WELL.” I can’t wait to see what this kid becomes when he is six.
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Oh boy.
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just dont let cb submit work to liam
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Laugh out loud 🙂
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The new coffee maker made one pot of coffee, then died. Husband’s brilliant idea for heating water in the microwave and then pouring the water over the grounds in the coffee maker , thus into the coffee maker pot, worked well. We leave early tomorrow morning with a major snow storm developing at our heals. We should make it home just fine unless we hit an antelope.
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Husband corrects me to say I should have used “thence” instead of thus. Jerk. 😉
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Doe that mean “therefore”??
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dont let cb sumit work to him either
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Heels, excuse me. Who edits this sruff, anyway?
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Reminds me of a version of an old cliche: time heals all wounds and time wounds all heels. One more: you have to kiss a thousand frogs to find a prince becomes, for me: you have to kiss a thousand princes to find a frog. I’ve always found the frogs.
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For you CB..
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oh yeah
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Heels, excuse me for the second time.
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Ok, this wasn’t an ectopic topic post. Never mind.
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Renee, you made my morning happy. I love the image of a therapist rushing home just ahead of the storm caused by her heals. Didn’t Jesus have that kind of problem too?
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Tee hee! I am excusing myself from the morning activities (a worship service with a bunch of southern Baptist mission teams) to design programme for a service of lessons and carols we are having at our home church next Sunday.
Now the coffee maker works. Go figure.
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To the list of things you’ve healed you can now add the coffee maker.
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VS – only you could find something so perfect for the occasion!!
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Just checked in this morning to see we are on a post from Saturday.
My final deliveries for the year go out the door tomorrow.
I have been talking about this for a week, so I was shall we say non-plussed when the s&h “reminded” me he scheduled his registration at the U for 2pm.
Then he needs to be back to school in St Paul ASAP, then back to the U at 5.
My lack of enthusuasm for this was greeted with a tantrum/meltdown the likes of which I have not seen in maybe 12 years. I am, it goes without saying, the bad guy in this situation.
I’m all for sponteneity, going with the flow, etc, etc.
But if I’m driving, you had better be a) checking with me, b) being aware of my schedule so you might just question whether I understood you meant THIS Tuesday (which is crazy) vs next Tuesday when neither of us have a thing on the calendar and finally, c) put your plans that involve me in the flipping shared calendar.
It seems he is going to call and change his appointment. He seemed to think I should “order” him to do this.
Nope.
So, how’s YOUR morning gone so far?
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Oh boy! That’s easy for you to say, mig. Unfortunately the prefrontal cortex in the teen is still a construction zone, not fully wired, if you will. Hope you’ll soon have peace restored in your little home.
So glad that my worst struggle this AM involved getting Bernie to go outside in the rain. For a small dog he has an amazing bladder!
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My Irish setter knows better than mess around w/ me when it’s raining – went right out, got business done and came right back in. Puppy went out and came back repeatedly without the “business” so I kept sending her back out. Business on the 6th go-around!
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My morning so far? Complicated. Some wonderful family memories from the concert I attended this weekend with my daughter’s family. Some sadness about a relationship that took a blow yesterday. Some embarrassment, for the new novelist I’ve been enjoying is–I find–actually a romance writer, and I haven’t thought of myself as someone who reads romances. Sigh. As character flaws go, reading romances is not so very bad, I guess, but still . . . Now add some hand-wringing anxiety about where this nation is headed politically. That’s me this morning.
And you?
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Snort (about the romance reading). I’ve also had that experience.
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Who is the author, Steve?
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Jojo Moyes. She actually writes well. But these days I am oppressed by stuff happening in the world. I need to read books that I know will end happily.
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I can relate to that feeling.
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Yes.
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I just finished listening to JK Rowlings novel for adults, A Casual Vacancy.
It is a brutal book.
I am now listening to Pride and Prejudice to restore my equanimity.
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Interesting… I’ve only read a couple of Jojo Moyes but would not have put either of them in the romance category. Guess I’ll have to read some more!
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For the first time in six days, I have some time at home to myself. Considering the weather, I am in heaven because I get to stay home ALL DAY. I’ve started a nice fire (flipped the switch), set up my Christmas card stuff on the table in the room where the floor is finally cured after Husband’s refinishing job. I’m making a pot of Christmas tea, and will probably put up the tree. Did I mention that I’m happy about some “free” time?
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It IS a good day to say home all day, BiR. My cat has the right idea. Usually after he eats breakfast, he wants to go outside for a bit, but today, he came upstairs and settled down on my bed. It’s soooo tempting to curl up with him, but I need to resist the temptation.
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Decided to skip the tree this year – now there are decorations gracing everything with a surface.
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I’ll be heading out in the rain, on foot, to pick up some craigslist-sourced wooden dollhouse furniture and dolls for granddaughter. Youngest daughter is arriving from Seattle this evening, so a trip to Terminal 2 later. Some babysitting. And if I’m lucky, the exciting task of organizing all my photos (so far) from 2015.
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Back from SD, tired and not inspired. Husband has to drive north tonight to the reservation he works at. It continues to be terribly foggy, which is odd since it is only 21 degress. We drove up in fog today. We avoided all antelope, which is good, since we couldn’t see more than 400 feet ahead of the vehicle most of the time.
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Among the longest sentences written is Molly Bloom’s soliloquy in the James Joyce novel Ulysses, which contains a sentence of 4,391 words.
Who holds the record among TrailBaboonists for such stream of consciousness writing?
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Gotta be tim.
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Without doing any research at all, I second BiR’s guess: tim.
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Me three.
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