Not enough words in the day.

Dear friends,

Some days, you end up feeling like there just isn’t enough something to keep you going.

Some days there aren’t enough minutes of sleep. Others, not enough moments of joy. And others, not enough expressions of friendship or gratitude.

Lately, though, there haven’t been enough words.

I hope I don’t sound whiny here, but I’ve been trying to write more of my mountain story. And that combined with a daily post has run me fresh out of words.

Which is a bit of an odd position for me. I hardly ever run out of words. I love words. I ply them, savor them, consider them, share them.

But I don’t have any to share right now because everything I had got spread thinly over a document called The Mountain, parts 16 and 17. And part 18? It’s not written and I don’t even remember what happened in that episode, or everything after it. Isn’t that weird? It’s the latest stuff and I don’t even remember most of the details.

I think it’s a sign I’ve lost interest in the story. Not of telling the story . . . I always love telling a story. But I’ve clearly grown tired of the plot of this one. Good thing, I guess, Mr. Mom is plugging along, working the case like he has for years. I used to brag about how determined I am, how driven, how willing to expend myself to reach a goal. But I pale in comparison to my partner who refuses to give up, never says uncle, and is chewing this lawsuit like a wild dog with a bone. Last night was a sleepless one for him, but while lying awake he remembered a detail about the case that — upon further research today — just might be important to the outcome. (I slept soundly, by the way.)

We’ve always said we’re yin and yang, the two of us. In the match called The Mountain, I’m down for the count and he’s still punching.

Or . . . maybe . . . he’s the choreographer and I’m the scriptwriter. I think I like that metaphor better.

Yeah, I like that a lot better. I’m going to head back to the words. I’ll try to come up with some good ones.

With gratitude {for a man of few words but many actions and remarkable stamina},

Joan, who discovered a new writer recently and loves her words

Never before had I known the sudden quiver of understanding that travels from word to brain to heart, the way a new language can move, coil, swim into life under the eyes, the almost savage leap of comprehension, the instantaneous, joyful release of meaning, the way the words shed their printed bodies in a flash of heat and light.
Elizabeth Kostova, The Historian
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Comments

  1. ElizSeg says:

    Whenever I need help moving forward in a story, I do a timeline – simply jotting down events and the order they came in. It jogs the memory AND helps trigger the emotions that coincided. Good luck!

  2. Maridel says:

    Didn’t Doctorow say something about writing being like driving in the dark without headlights? Keep your foot on the gas, Joan-Marie.

  3. Sometimes words can serve me well. Sometimes words can go to hell. – The poet Harry Chappin. These words ring in my ears often as I try to lay my soul to paper and rewrite the same thought 65 different ways trying to find just the right fit, feel and rhythm. I guess that is why I like reading your posts. You’ve got rhythm. The past couple of Mountain installments have been a bit of a different emotional tempo and focus. And we won’t mention your count-down clock. You have lots of other things to take attention right now. Let the words go to hell for a while. Love and Peace!

  4. 1) “I’ll try to come up with some good ones.”.
    You always do. Be patient with yourself please? For all of us? Take a little time if you need to. We’ll be here waiting.

    2) “I slept soundly, by the way”.
    Perfect! Mountain struggles or emptying nest struggles be dashed – one of you needs to be physically rested at all times. Fingers crossed the nocturnal epiphany turns the tables on the Unfriendlies, and pronto!

    3) Thanks for the tip about Elizabeth Kostova. It is always a joy to have a new wonderful writer to investigate.

  5. miasnotes says:

    Reblogged this on Finding my Rhythm and commented:
    This resembles my thoughts on life in general, as we speak. I don’t want I am looking for, but I know it when I come face to face.

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