Find A Club

I sat down to write and poured out a paragraph.

Then I stopped to regard what I wrote.

Yech, I said. It was as appealing as a dirty cat litter box.

I don’t wanna write, I whispered in my inner vault, aware of the blasphemy that I was uttering.

Nor did I want to walk. I’d completed two and a half miles. The thought of another step depressed me.

I wanted to be on the beach, basking in sunshine as I listened to the waves and watched them crash on the shore.

I wanted to be reading a book, sitting at a restaurant, enjoying food that I don’t allow myself to eat because it’s not healthy. I wanted to be listening to music and laughing with friends. I wanted to be flying away, driving away, buzzing away.

I didn’t want to be writing, walking, doing yardwork, cleaning the house, or eating healthy.

Just like that, I knew I was into one of my dark moods. It was overtaking me like a terrifying storm.

Nuts, I said. Nuts.

I returned to writing. Every word felt like a struggle. I kept pushing, looking for a carrot to use, urging myself, just finish this paragraph, and then doing it again. I really needed a club. It’s a day like this when I could use a personal training urging me to push myself. Without one, I had to do it alone.

It was a gritty session. I actually counted the words. When it was nine hundred fifty, I said, good enough, and shut down. Then I grit my teeth and braced myself to walk. I wanted at least two more miles before going home.

I know the words that I wrote today will not seem any different from my usual output. It’s just the mood that’s affecting me. Sometimes I don’t need a carrot or a club. I just sit down and write.¬†And then there are days like today, when neither a carrot nor a club seem like enough.

It was a terrible day of struggling to write like crazy, but tomorrow is another day.


Floofstorm (catfinition) – a violent disturbance caused by cats, usually with yowling, growling, hissing, and running.

In use: “A floofstorm disturbed the warm, quiet night. Leaping up to find the search, the couple found their little black cat, Crystal, stalking a large tom by the garage. Yowling, growling, and spitting, he was searching for a way out, but the silent little queen refused to let him get away.”

Thursday’s Theme Music

I’d planned a two-mile walk yesterday evening. Starting I’d end up at the pizza place where my friends and I meet for beers and conversation once a week. Then I’d walk home, giving me a nice, round three-mile walk, a pleasant cap to the day.

A brief thunderstorm had passed through right before I started out. The temperature remained about eighty-five, but thunderstorms still haunted the mountains around our valley, and the humidity had climbed. I heard thunder as I went up the hills, planning to climb high and then descend. As I walked, the temperature dropped about twelve degrees. Rain ratcheted down on me and then stopped. Thunder boomed. Calling an audible, I descended and set on a path to meet with my friends.

Somewhere in all of this, I’d been thinking about plans and priorities. From that, I started streaming Metallica, “Nothing Else Matters”. Now it’s stuck on a loop so I’m putting it out there to release myself.


Keith Said

I’ve experienced the same while novel writing. You’re thinking hard about scenes, chapters, and plots, and you just turn something subconscious on. The more you use it, the stronger it becomes. Things you hear and see flow in and connect with what you’re working on.

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