Sunday, February 28, 2010

What I didn't write (and how it's my best story yet)

My blog is officially two weeks-old today, and while I doubt I'm supposed to admit this, I spent the last three days staring blankly at the blinding white of the New Post screen, frantically scanning my memory for something worth writing about. 

These were some of my honest ideas...

My trip to the grocery store (nothing occurred on this trip that was funny or noteworthy in any sense of the word.  I mean, if you don't count the fact that I started in produce and ended in dairy, when usually I start in dairy and end in produce.  I know, a little too risque for the internet).

A commentary on one of my family's favorite group activities... potty time!

A post I actually began writing on the book Angela's Ashes.  About halfway through I felt so thoroughly depressed that I actually asked my son if we could watch The Wiggles, then proceeded with a spirited rendition of "Big Red Car," to which he responded, "Aw Done, Mama."

Summarizing my day, from the fact that The Tine wanted his banana sliced and not peeled to an incident involving the baby, a kiss, and the unfortunate arrival of regurgitated breast milk on my puckered lips...

Let's suffice it to say, with all of the time I spent with my hands hovering over my keyboard and my brain moving in overdrive, my best ideas involved vomit and the bathroom (which would have killed in the second grade demographic).

I am currently reading a book that talks a lot about the concept of story.  How the main character must overcome conflict and undergo transformation before he can get what he wants.  How our lives mirror the concept of story.  How some of us would walk out on a film about our life, angry that we wasted our time and money.

Every time I sat down to write this week I felt like walking out on my story.

Every time.

It was depressing.

But then I realized that even if I put my shoes back on, grabbed my purse, and started to brave those dark, sticky floors, heading for the red glow of the exit sign, something would reel me back in.

Two tiny supporting actors suddenly arrive onscreen and completely steal the show. 

These two spunky characters salvage a near flop.

They create humorous moments, poignant narratives, and dramatic tension.

They make my story worth telling.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Related Posts with Thumbnails