desperation

Speaker7’s Writing Process

Someone recently asked me:

Speaker7, how are you able to be so beautiful with that scorching case of herpes on your face?

No, I’m remembering that wrong. I believe someone asked how I went about writing during this scorching herpes infestation known as NaBloWriMo. This reader wondered if I planned ahead or drank until I made Nicholas Cage’s character in Leaving Las Vegas look like a baby chipmunk in comparison.

That is a great question and by no means a straw man I created in order to have something to write about today because jesus christ what else is there? I did just eat Reese Peanut Butter cups for dinner. . . is that something I should write indepth about?

So this is what happens:

I get home from work and realize I have exactly 60 minutes over the course of the next four hours to think of a post, write a post and schedule it

Sometimes I find it helpful just to start typing to get into the “flow.” The “flow” is that sweet spot where the whole world dissolves and the writer is completely caught up in the moment.

It usually doesn’t work for me so I take a break.

I go into a quiet place and think about the big issues affecting our world. I wonder what I have to say about these big issues.

Two minutes later, my son will come into the room and announce that a snail is after him and we have to hide in the dining room curtains for the next 20 minutes.

We will do this for the next hour. Then it’s back to the writing process.

I decide to engage in activities that will stimulate the creative juices. I remember that exercise is key to a healthy mind.

I remember reading how the 18th century poet Friedrich Schiller kept decaying fruit in his writing space because he believed it stimulated his creativity. I do not have fruit apart from a pouch of Halloween Fruit Snacks™ I unearth from my son’s trick-or-treat bag. I realize that grapes are fruit and that wine is made from grapes so I decide to crack a bottle. Now I’m gaining some perspective.

I am in the zone. Things are cooking!

Is it possible that I could get away with another post complaining about the difficulties of writing a post every day? That’s what I’ve been getting away with 99.95% of the time now. Yes, I think my readers will be pleased.

I know! I’ll do some more gifs!

In case you were unaware, Speaker7 is writing a post every day this month as part of Nano Poblano Team. This is her last post with gifs…maybe. Check back tomorrow.

I’m Sexy and I Know It

So a weird thing happened to me today:

I think I was hit on. I can’t say for sure because I haven’t been hit on in a really long time. I believe the last person who hit on me was my husband, and we’ve been together over 10 years.

I was driving to a Zumba class and stopped at a red light. A truck pulled up beside me in the left hand lane, and the guy in the passenger seat knocked on his door to get my attention. I looked over, and he smiled and wiggled his fingers at me. At first, I thought oh that’s so and so…wait, who is that?  Did I know him? Nope. My brain’s facial recognition scan came up short so I asked him, all puzzled-like, “Do I know you?” And he shook his head no and I said “Oh, okay” and the light turned green, and I took off to him shouting “I was being polite.”

Weird right? I am by no means a head turner. I never was, and now that I’m nearing middle age, my interaction with the opposite sex has been mainly of the “here you go, ma’am” kind. I can’t show you what I really look like since I’m all about shielding my true identity on this blog, but I somewhat resemble her:

This is the crazy cat lady from The Simpsons

Well, I was wearing my workout clothes so this best represents what I looked like at the time of the alleged pick up:

Replace the unitard with a ratty T-shirt and sweatpants and you’re golden.

Now, I’m not saying I’m blahsville to elicit any “What are you talking about?!? You’re so pretty, You go grrlll!” kind of responses in the comment area (but please post them if you feel an unbelievable urge, and make sure the grrlll has the adequate number of r’s and l’s), I’m painting a realistic picture so you can help me decipher this gonzo interaction. I have a toddler who woke me up at 4:45 this morning, and I look like that happens on a daily basis. I’m also just generally unapproachable because I cover myself in barbed wire to protect against unexpected hugs or spontaneous displays of jocularity.

I’ve never been really good at reacting to pick up lines. In my 20’s I was the girl scowling in the corner, waiting for the cab she called to come pick her up and take her away from the nightmare known as “the club scene.” If a gentleman happened to try his magic line on me, I normally responded with a guffaw and then ran and hid in the ladies room.

So I’m not quite sure what pick-up truck man intended. Was he just being polite? Do people still wave and smile at total strangers just to let them know that we’re all in this soon-to-be zombie apocalypse together? Or was he trying to car jack me?

It is a mystery.

But what I do know is tomorrow I will be doubling up on the barbed wire.