writer's blo[ck]spot

I have never had writer's block before.

At least not when it comes to writing like.. you know.. words. About stuff.

Me real good that! Unga!

..But you know, writing is a funny thing... (for those of you whom I have not bored to death, in person, with the intimate details of this endeavor.. a large part of the impetus for launching this blog is that now I'm done with college classes and I'm trying to ramp up my writing regimine. ..So for to build up my flexy copy/song-writin' muscules, y'see...) There's this delicate mental balance to the whole stupid thing--creative process that it is--and, ironically, writers tend to be an unbalanced lot. (self included)

This particular writer is working--under a little deadline--on an ad copy job. And I'm getting my first official, professional-level run in with the hairy-scary nightmonster of every copywriter's closet.

The last couple weeks have caused a lot of jostling in my creative subconscious, and I'm afraid that the cargo was not properly packed for the journey. Just weird little stuff.. Death of a co-worker's son.. death of a classmate... son starting boyscouts (yes, this was mentally traumatic for me, so shut up! ..If I have time, I'll explain it in another post). End of my brief, third, college career. Start of a major push for the writing career. Crazy, stupid family stuff.. Deb and I didn't bother to grow up when we had the chance, so we're still working through it, the kids get to live through it with us, and well.. they are *good* kids.. *excellent* kids, really--though Emma is kind of like a fuzzy little pink sledgehammer--but they are, not surprisingly, a little odd, as well. Pretty melodramatic, for one. So anytime we're going through even very mild turmoil, they get pretty wacky. ..Then I got a call from Tim C. this week that his wife/our lovely friend is in the hospital with a suspected explodified appendix. That's not so good, now is it? I'm also going through some major flaky, "what on earth is wrong with me that, if being a songwriter is what I'm actually good at, I somehow can't seem to just *do* it!?" stuff-- prayer and journaling for that. Spiritual equivalent of 2 asprin and a good night's sleep. And I got some sick kids, and a sick wife. And the deadline for the writing job (remember that? it's what started this tirade)...

Just lots_of_stuff.

I hear tell there are two kinds of The Block... there's the kind where your mind just goes blank.
Nothing. Nada. Tapped out. And then there's the kind where you write and write and write and write. You get all Virginia Wolf with it and just keep blasting out words like an ink-fueled gattling gun, and (also somewhat like Virginia Wolf) it's all just a bunch of crap.

Well, I've had that first one, in songwriting. But A) I've had enough experience in that forum to know that it's going to come and go and then we'll be back up and running like old times. Possibly better. That's a nice mental ace-up-the-sleeve when it comes to breaking the tackle... and B) Usually the angst caused by "Augh! I've got nothing! I'm out of songs! Oh, Dear God in heaven what will I *DO*!!??" is plenty enough to jump-start the songwriting motor and send me tearing off in a cloud of dust.

But this is the first time I've hit the wall doing copywriting. And, unfortunately, I hit the one where everything I write is stupid. Now, considering (see name of blog) that I tend to feel that way *anyway*.. this is a pretty bad situation to be in.

The End.

HA! Hoo! That's a good one, isn't it?

Yeah, well, I really don't know where to go with it from here. ..so.. there you go. That's not only punchworthy, it also completely fails to be commentworthy. So I expect to hear nothing from any of you.

Still coming up, that toothbrushing breakthrough, the Christian and Art, Living Honestly as it relates to the peculiarities of the online journal, andwhateverelseImanagetocomeupwith.
It'll get better than this, I promise! Right now I'm just getting used to stretching my fingers online.

And now, finally, I'm going to bed. Again.