How do writers write?

Following the maze of blog links, I occasionally read a blog by a woman I simply don't know. I know her by reputation.

As I read one of her blog posts on U2, I was so profoundly moved that it literally seized my lungs for a moment. What beauty when you not only find yourself locked to the page, but it is a struggle to draw a breath until you reach the end.

The thing about witnessing talent like this, is that it's also deeply depressing. How, I've always wondered, does anything get written? How is it that people can read the most amazing things from other people, and yet not freeze solid when they attempt to write their own story? How is it that they are not struck dumb by their ineptitude? Are they really so certain of their own ability that they're never afraid their writing will become invisible, or worse, a parody in comparison? When a writing effects me, I am immediately humbled and shamed by my own inability to complete a thought. Something that moves me deeply moves me just as steadily towards complete silence. If I can't express myself to the degree these people can, what right do I have to go on speaking?

(And I know in my heart that the world would have been a better place if Nicholas Sparks had felt the same way.)

When I try to coax words into a thought, I feel like Adam Sandler screaming at a golf ball "That's your home...are you too good for your home!" There's something that goes here, right here...what is it? One word that will quantify this feeling and thought. Most days I simply can't find it. All of us have access to the same words, how is it that some people know exactly where each one belongs? I've always wondered if maybe it is that, for them, life out here is just a feeble imitation of the larger one inside their minds. Whether it is clarity or a need for clarity that guides them so well, I don't understand either...which is why they can do what they can, and I cannot.

Rants & Raves

I simply do not have enough spikes in my brainwave pattern to think of something to write about every day. BUT, I certainly have plenty to bitch about. You know it's a talent when the most frequent career advice you get is "ooh, you should be a critic!" Done and Done! Ergo, I'm thinking that when I'm at a loss for this site I shall do a brief rants and raves. Much like Paris Hilton, it's cheap but it's easy my friends.

Raves:
*Metromint - mint flavored water. No, no, not some sort of warped chewing gum flavor, it's not sweet...just minty.

*Wrinkle Free Downy - it really does help diminish the wrinkles...which is very important as I do not iron unless my shirts have tried to go grunge without my permission.

*Costco - besides the fact that they sell a fresh made two fisted chocolate and almond dipped ice cream bar for like $1, buying 10 lbs of ground beef in one package just gets me HOT!

*Empire Records Soundtrack - though I was greatly disturbed to realize that this movie is now over 10 years old (GAH!..though Renee Zelwegger with baby fat should have tipped me off), this CD is still smokin'.

*Microwavable bag of Rice o Roni: sneer all you want, it's damn fine for $1.89 and 1.5 minutes to instant side item. The other day for lunch out I had slices of beef and portobello, drizzled in truffle oil and vinagrette over greens with shaved parm and a lovely Super Tuscan red wine...yet I still ate this rice for dinner. Yes, my two personalities get along just fine, thank you.

Rants:
*red neck neighbors shrieking dog - why don't they just bring in a howler monkey and get it over with? Why is it that people think if it's not the middle of the night, neighbors aren't disturbed by their barking dog...and really, this dog doesn't bark, it's shrieks like it's left manly part is trapped in a vise. Three nights in a row we've ventured onto our back porch to quietly enjoy the twilight air..only to be driven inside, clutching our heads. Vainly we've turned up the TV to drown out the hell spawn, but it does no good. And juuuust when it's getting dark enough outside to justify calling the police, the bastard hauls the dog in. He taunts us you know...he'll do this for several days running and then keep the dog indoors for a week, to lure us into a hopeful state that his live in girlfriend has run out and, a la all good Redneck stories, taken the dog AND the truck. The most insane part: the dog only does this when left alone. So while generally the man is smart enough to lock dog inside house while he's a work during the day, he has been moronic enough to leave all the windows open. SCREEEE-ARK, SCREEEEEEE-ARK. I'm tempted to knock on his door and remind our neighbor that it was just such a dog that finally drove Berkowitz over the edge, and that I can not be held responsible if that dog starts making sense to one of us.

*Raspberry Ice Crystal Lite - shudder, tastes like regurgitated cherry kool-aid.

*Hard Water - who ever knew washing your dishes could make them dirtier?

*Manipulative people who complain about manipulative people...chokingly hypocritical or is it just one more of their cunning ploys to disarm you into THINKING you're not being manipulated?

*Dreaming that you're writing a book that is very very clever and then not remembering it when you wake up. Actually, to the trashy flip side, sadly I DO remember a recent dream where I had written a scene of Desperate Housewives involving George Lopez as the divorce attorney of that chick...trampy ex-model character married to Carlos (I merely peruse the show, the names fail me)...and Rob Morrow as the agent secretly investigating Carlos. It was VERY funny....but not of much use to me unless someones got connections, eh...eh?

*Four days running of overcast skies, no rain, no sun but lots of Humidity - good for the skin, craptacular for the 'do....additionally, absolutely undoes any benefit the wrinkle free Downy offered me. I feel like I've stepped into the end times....surely the sun DOES still exist? Anyone?

*Little bugs that look like depressed ladybugs...same look, but diarrhea brown. They're EATING all my Basil! It's a frickin' miracle that for once, they're beating me to killing a plant, but it's war! The problem is, I haven't a clue what weaponry to unleash. God knows that a chiffonade of basil and DDT over pasta is not a great idea...