If you want to increase your success rate, double your failure rate.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Exhast Fumes.....sometimes worth their weight in gold.

Once again he perches at his desk.  Eying the screen.  Waiting for it to make a move.  It doesn't.  He doesn't.  The cursor blinks.  Blink Blink Blink.
The battle continues and neither breaks.  Something witty today he thinks.  Blink Blink Blink.
Funny is what I need.  Blink Blink Blink.
Fine then sad it is.  Blink Blink Blink.

How about just typing whatever is on your mind.  That seems to do it.  Finally the letters pour across the screen.  Chasing the blinking cursor but never catching it.  It still taunts him and as long as he keeps chasing, then maybe he will find some salvation.  Maybe he will just find misery and resentment.  In the end it's never about the finish it's always about the chase. Blink Blink Blink.
Over the years I have started many stories with every intent on writing a novel.  I've even backed them off into short stories.  They never mature, laying on these stark white pages, dying or perhaps just resting until one day they may start to chase again.  Nevertheless they never come to fruition.
I was out blowing leaves yesterday. Keeping my mind occupied as well as my liver with an occasional trip to the beer cooler.  I kept getting this feeling like I needed to just sit and write- for a long time.  I pictured myself at a comfortable wooden desk with a thick scarred top.  The light in the room was barely shining and a fire crackled in the fireplace behind me.  Two dogs lay at my feet and I could feel one twitching in his sleep and hear the other emitting small snores.  Nothing much adorned the desk but a small monitor, a cup full of pens and pencils with no tips on them and not a sharpener to be found anywhere.  There were some books laying about, the titles I could not tell you, I assume reference material.  Perhaps a manual to a hide-a-bed couch from 1982.  All I know is that I was there and I was chasing that damn cursor so fast that I may have even caught it had the cursed blower not run out of fuel.
Then out of nowhere an idea struck me for a new book.  The title even came to me as well as little bits and pieces of the story.  I suppose you can call it whatever you want but I will just call it luck.  I think of all kinds of crap to write about and most of it is just that....Crap.  This one however has got me excited.  I may have just found a small piece of salvation. (misery)

Go blow your own leaves!


  1. Hi Bushman,

    I feel your frustration and envy you your leaf blower!

    My mind churns its best while washing dishes (I don't have a dishwasher) and I have taken to placing a cassette recorder on the window sill in front of the sink where I pretend I have an interested and open minded "friend" waiting eagerly for my ramblings.

    When I glance off to my left I see my little dog, rolling her eyes, breathing a big long sigh...thinking "here she goes again" - yes, I'm sure that's what she's thinking! It doesn't stop me from rambling though!

    As to your "idea for a new book" go for it...the only person you have to be true to is yourself - that's my motto, you can borrow it, if you like.

    So, strap on a microphone and cassette and fire up that leaf blower - then just start rambling...

    Great post!


  2. You were out blowing leaves yesterday? Hope they at least called you in the morning. :-)


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