Posts Tagged ‘ writer’s block ’

Why Central Oregon gives me Writer’s Block.

So as anyone who’s been following by writing may have noticed, I’ve been writing a great deal more since I moved to Portland area. I noticed too, and have obliged myself by moving to a Monday, Wednesday, Friday blogging schedule.

However, I’ve learned something strange.

Whenever I’m at home in Central Oregon, my newfound wellspring of literary creativity dries up.

I am dumber at home.

Since I hate feeling dumb, I’ve come up with a few theories as to why this may be the case.

In Redmond, I have a lot of people to have conversations with. When I have conversations, I’m bouncing ideas, solidifying opinions, and airing complaints. All of those are things I write about, so when I’m saying them out loud I never get around to writing them down, and then I forget the specifics.

My second theory is that Redmond is just too normal. The population is significantly smaller, so there are just not enough bizarre and fascinating people to observe and write about. In Redmond, I’m not going to see an old man falling asleep on the bus, or a black-clad twenty-something male screaming song lyrics in the bus shelter.

Thirdly, life at home is just straight up easy. Writing is a way for me to sort out struggles in my brain and heart, and when I’m not struggling at all I don’t have much to say. I don’t have to.

Fourth, when I’m at home I have an active enough social life that I don’t block out time to write, especially when I’m here for a short visit. For example, I’m at home right now, but since I’ve only been here to work for three days, I’ve been spending all my free time talking with my family or my friends (see theory number one,) and right now I’m stalling my friends just so I can get this published.

My last theory is that there is just too much sunshine in Central Oregon. When I have sufficient levels of Vitamin D in my system, I don’t worry as much, so I don’t think as much, so I don’t write as much. Rain always puts me in a contemplative mood– that’s part of the reason I chose Portland, and contemplative moods for Bethany is equivalent to a writing mood.

Therefore, I am going home to the rain and large population tomorrow, and hopefully the strange people and vitamin D deficiency will jump-start my fount of literary blessing.

Adios, Sunshine!

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Let the World be Quiet

Frequently, I have no idea what to blog about. Oftentimes when that happens, I want to run around outside to clear my head and hopefully be struck with a lightning bolt of inspiration.

Lately I haven’t been doing that though, because I’ve been living in Lake Oswego and I haven’t met the neighbors, and they might get freaked out and think I’m a crazy person and then give the LO police department something mildly interesting to do, like come to my house and make sure I’m sober and sane.

Anyway.

Tonight when I didn’t know what to write, I decided to indulge my desire to go outside and think about what to write, since I’m in small-town Redmond where my neighbors either can’t see me and wouldn’t care if they did because gosh dangit they should be used to me by now.

Earlier in the evening, my dog was sitting on the back deck, bolt upright, ears perked forward, apparently listening intently to the family of frogs. “That’s pretty cute,” I thought, then sat down in front of my mom’s computer to scroll through Facebook and listen to my latest music obsession on YouTube.

However, the Internet never ever inspires me. I’m not sure why, but I only ever get ideas from real life and conversations with people.

So I went outside and looked up at the stars.

“What should I write about?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

The frogs chirped happily away, not knowing or caring that I was having writer’s block. Frogs are prone to chirping at night in the springtime.

I stood listening to them for a moment, struck by how musical frogs are. I am prone to forgetting how musical nature is.

Remembering to shut up for a second and listen for sound in the silence is something I’m very bad at– I always have been. I was talking out loud to myself before the frogs interrupted me, reminding me that my voice isn’t the most important voice in the world.

My voice is just another lil blip in the cosmos, and I need to be quiet sometimes and enjoy the answers in the silence.

 

A post! Against all odds!

Every time I take keyboard in lap to write a new blog, I think to myself, “This is going to be the best blog yet!”

And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hits me.

Writer’s block.

I always imagined writer’s block looking something like this.

In case you couldn't tell, I just drew that.

As in a giant block with discouraging, taunting words written all over it, sitting atop my desk, blocking my from my keyboard/computer monitor/writing implements. (Since I no longer have a desk or a mouse this drawing is rather innaccurate to reality, but right now that is irrelevant.)

Whenever I’m struck with a particularly bad case of writer’s block, the old adage comes to mind– “Write what you know.”

I don’t know about you guys, but if I wrote what I know it’d be as boring as my grandmother’s monologues about which doctors she met at church this week.

Can you tell I'm on a pen tablet kick?

See? This blog is what happens when I write what I know. I think that my horrible drawings are all that are redeeming this.

Writer’s block sucks.

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