Getting Something Down on Paper

A blank page or screen is so liberating and so terrifying. It's so full of lovely possibilities, yet equally open to a bunch of junk thrown down in haste. It doesn't know the difference. The screen will accept either one.

I had just begun reading the much-recommended "bird by bird" (Yes, it kills me to stay true to the title and not capitalize it.) by Anne Lamott when I saw my niece demonstrate the very same writerly struggles Lamott describes. My niece has a story project due -- some 300-plus words. It's daunting for a 7-year-old. Not wanting to let her leave it until the last minute, the adults decided to help her brainstorm.

We sat down with a notebook and started asking questions. Where would her story happen? What characters would be in it? What would they do? I hoped the series of questions would elicit some ideas from her creative, book-devouring little mind. We tried this a couple of times, with one of us taking notes while she spouted ideas between doing headstands and making an imaginary sled out of pillows.

Lamott's advice is, in G-rated language, to write a lousy first draft. Just get something down on the paper. This is what we were trying to do. I think it was successful. My niece might have too many ideas now.

What amused me the most was that on one attempt to pick up the brainstorming process again, my niece, at the very suggestion of it, raced over to the piano to practice. This is classic writerly avoidance. Writers everywhere struggle to block everything out, ignore the need-to-be-done chores or various sources of entertainment and simply write. It's a formidable task, regardless of age or writing experience.

How Am I Doing?

Every retailer seems to be begging consumers to take surveys lately. "Let us know how we are doing," says the receipt. Usually, the promise of a chance at winning something follows the survey request.

It occurred to me the other day that employees are a lot like these stores that want to know how they are doing. Every human being, regardless of company, title or salary level, wants to know that he or she is doing a good job. For some reason, it's easy to forget to tell people that they are doing well.

In this economy, when many companies aren't in a position to give out raises, I think it would be a nice morale boost for lots of employees if their bosses gave them a quick, "Good job."

Good Things About January

In an effort to be positive after the brutal week we've had here in northeast Ohio, I'm making a list of good things about January. Feel free to add to it, especially since I only came up with nine. The late-night comedy hosts have brainwashed us to believe that every list has to be a top 10.

1. Drinking hot chocolate and hot tea
2. Admiring the beauty of individual snowflakes on the windshield (but only at stop lights)
3. Seeing tracks in the snow and wondering which animal made them
4. Wearing cozy sweaters
5. Using the time indoors to catch up on things that got ignored during the holidays
6. Having a snowblower that starts after more than a year in storage
7. Feeling hopeful about the new year
8. Looking forward to the Winter Olympics next month
9. Eating hot soup
I just thought of number 10: after-Christmas clearance sales

An Alternate Route Detoured My Thoughts Too

When bad weather forced us to take an alternate way home today from a belated holiday gathering, we took the non-interstate route. While my steady-handed hubby drove, I looked out the window at my past. One of the counties we drove through was the place where I had worked for several years as a reporter. I could still remember the locations of the police stations, highway patrol buildings and other places I frequented on the job then.

We drove by my old apartment, where the kindly older man who managed the place told me one day that I should get new tires. I saw the farm market and bread store where I shopped. Of course, being young and single, I didn't have the best diet. I have to confess that on more than one occasion, I bought a McDonald's cheeseburger and ate it while driving to an evening meeting I had to cover.

The slow drive was a lot more interesting when I thought about all the places I used to go and what my life was like then. I guess that's the silver lining that came from the otherwise dreary detour.