Mayhem on paper
If anyone ever wondered about the process of a writer of columns, wonder no longer.
I can’t speak for anyone else, but I can speak for the three voices in my head and they all say the process is self-inflicted torture.
Back in May, I committed to writing every single day, regardless. I have done that for 124 straight days now and have written more than 80,000 words. So, I’m averaging around 650 words per day, which is a lot.
Before you go admiring my ridiculously-disciplined work ethic you should know two things:
I have typed grocery lists on those pages; and most of it is never seen by anyone’s eyeballs but mine, thank God. It’s not perfect and it’s not pretty. And,
My writing process involves painful conversations about the weather, why my aloe Vera plant seems to be dying and other things I’m curious about. Only I have those conversations with myself. Every single day, on paper.
If I’m mad, that usually makes it onto the pages, and my iPad keyboard ends up battered and bruised that day. If I’m hurting for whatever reason, it usually wriggles its way into what I’m writing about, rendering it useless for public consumption.
Those days when I’ve just got nuthin’ though, those are the real winners.
I scan Twitter for fresh ideas and to satisfy my morbid curiosity. I see what everybody on Facebook is fighting about or cooking.
And I write.
I heard the other day that Google is harvesting every word we type on our computers. Since we now live in a time when everything seems possible, and not in a good way, I’m inclined to think there’s a nugget of truth in there somewhere.
Case in point, I. Am. Screwed.
Writers methodically clear their browser history because we’re a sick and jumpy lot. However, if Google is ahead of my daily routine, surely somebody out there is wondering why I would be typing words like whale vomit, Kliff Kingsbury and are negative blood type people really aliens? into my Google box. It’s what I do.
I not only Google stuff, I then write about how I feel about it - so Google knows everything if this is all true. It’s a strong case for pen, paper and writer’s cramp.
But I don’t want to end up in a dimly-lit room with men in bad suits because I was curious about why women who are negative blood type have to take Rhogam shots (an injection of oatmeal with medicine in it) after they have a positive blood type baby. The Internet, like a 2004 Garmin GPS, will take you to some weird places, man.
Again, case in point, my writing style matches my Google search style, which I just realized is probably not a good thing.
Somewhere in between the whale vomit, and the sheer wonderment of blood types my columns come out. Fun facts: whale vomit (ambergris) is used in fine perfume; Kliff Kingsbury is single, y’all!; and I’m type O-negative blood which would make me a handy friend to have in the case you need blood as I can give to anyone - but be warned it could be alien blood. I’ve also had a couple shots of medicated oatmeal.
Now you know what my writing process looked like this week.God knows who will show up next week.