The Blog That Wasn’t
It’s Wednesday morning. Early, but not too early. I don’t have to do any day job stuff yet. My muse is in the attic, sleeping off a late night of partying and not providing me with inspiration for this blog. The dogs have walked, had breakfast, and are lounging/napping all around me—I envy them.
Because I’m staring at a blank page. Okay, not technically blank anymore. I’ve spit out 71 words so far. But blank enough to be this vast, intimidating sea of white with a little splotch of grey at one end. The lonely writer’s flag.
Currently at half-mast because this writer has no idea what to write.
If I were a book blogger, I’d be golden. I’d be reviewing, or previewing, or gushing over the awesome author I’m about to interview. But I’m not. I’m an author blogger and, while the specifics of what that means varies some from author to author, that means I basically sit down, unpack my brain, and talk about what’s been on my mind, what I noticed, and/or what’s been going on in my life.
That last one’s easy—at the moment, there’s nothing exciting going on in my life. I paid my taxes yesterday, but do you seriously want to read about that?
Weeping inconsolably, the writer reluctantly scribbled out the check. So much money, gone forever, like the death of a dear friend.
I wouldn’t want to read that. All it would do is remind me that as a self-employed person, I pay way too much in taxes. I also need to clean my house and do dishes, but again, not exciting prose.
The vacuum lay coiling in the back of the closet like an electric cobra, hungry for dust bunnies and stray pennies.
Yuck. Moving on. Things I notice or have noticed recently. My house needs cleaning and my bank account is empty. Now my vacuum cleaner is a snake swallowing its tail. Once more, nothing to blog about.
Nothing to write home about either. Where’s a good digression when you need one?
That brings us to what’s been on my mind. Right now, it’s empty. Like a too-small bag of potato chips when you’re really hungry. You’ve already upended the bag to get at the last crumbs, and now you’re debating tearing it open at the seams and licking the inside like some Lays junkie. But you’d never do that, you say to yourself, even as you look around to see if anyone would notice …
Alright. That’s it. I got nothing.
No blog for you this week.
Let’s see what happens next time.