The writing class is over. I promised my teacher I would write a review, and I will –when I can actually figure out how to write.
I’m totally stuck. I can’t put together more than a simple sentence with risky comma placement and a serious effort to not use these…oh, how I love these…so instead I’m trying to use more of these — which I read somewhere are preferable.
So I found Betsy Lerner’s blog . She wrote this amazing book on writing. I left a comment. It was pathetic. All of the other commenters were of the New York Times variety, discussing literary concepts with polysyllabic words and obscure author references. I think I used “OMG” to express my point. OMG, so bush league.
I found another blog from a woman in my writing class (yes, instead of writing, I stalk other writers). She’s in this new essay critique group I joined, formed by some women who took the class. Her blog has writing prompts. The most recent one is to write about citrus fruit. She instructs us to “use your novel words. Practice your metaphors. Use flowerly language, then be sparse.”
So I start: Lemons are yellow. Then my brain stops. Yellow-y lemons snuggled…(more ellipses…stalling for time…). I stop. Lemons nestled together in their shiny yellow slickers. Ugh, you have got to be kidding me.
I have no metaphors, no evocative language, no sense of smell (other than: lemons smell clean – see?).
In addition, I can’t decide on a broader scope what else to write about. I read this article in Writer’s Digest that said readers come to your writing not to learn about you, but to learn about themselves — to see “what’s in it for me?” I think this is absolutely true (even if this means using a useless adjective). As I look over previous posts, I see proof. My post on my grocery list – no one cared. My summer reading list — ditto. But when I wrote about depression, my second martini, my kitten dying, my husband losing his job, people commented.
What’s surprising about this? Nothing – except that ever since I read this, I’ve been paralyzed. I can offer you nothing. I feel fine (my back hurts a little), my husband got a new job, my house is a mess, my kids are bugging me. That’s all I got. My fruit bowl is a total yawner.
Even this post — why read it? In fact, why am I still writing it?
Someone please, give me your hand and pull me over this hump. Otherwise I’m going to have to go work at The Gap — if I’m lucky, because I have no retail experience.
Okay, no clever way to end this, er…I’m done.