On Why I Can’t Write Anything Decent Tonight

Posted on November 16, 2013 by

5 Comments

Every topic runs up a short, limbless tree that squirrels abandoned months ago in favor of leafier, greener, more intentional trees; every thought is stumped by what comes next, hesitation dries the well.

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33 words inspired by my exasperation at my inability to finish five different blog topics I started tonight. Oh well.

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5 Comments on “On Why I Can’t Write Anything Decent Tonight”

  1. Yet you did write. My unfinished posts seem to be calling me from across a dry and very wide desert. I blame it on the revisions I am doing on my other projects but those are endless and blog posts aren’t. I will learn from this. Write something. Anything. Make the day count. Thanks.

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    • I do better when I can’t afford to be self-conscious, like when I was doing the 100 Essays thing. Lately, the little mean critic in my head has been way too yakky.:)

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  4. Great 33 words. I have a few drafts that aren’t going anywhere right now. I just keep them and someday, maybe, I’ll know how to finish them. 🙂

    Reply

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Jan Wilberg

Jan Wilberg

What happens here on Red's Wrap is all over the map. There is no single theme, no overarching gripe, no malady of my own or others that dominates. I write about what seems important or interesting at the moment and what aims me toward hope. I write stories, essays, poems - whatever fits the day and the mood. Nothing stays the same, here or anywhere. That's a good thing. Happiness. It's relative.

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