Ifeel guilty when I do not update this blog frequently. This is unsurprising. I feel guilty about nearly everything.
But I’ve been sitting here for an hour trying to come up with something to say. Some days it’s easy to think of material. If something funny or fascinating happens to me, I can spin it into a story. Absent exciting events (which, let’s face it, is the norm) I can expound on some thought or philosophy, or I can talk about a book I’ve been reading, if the muse is willing. Today, unfortunately, we are not a’mused.
I have read one too many short stories where the author turns his or her muse into a character. I will not inflict that on you. For that matter, I’ve read too many essays, stories, and magazine articles in which the author, bereft of ideas, starts writing about how it sucks to have writer’s block. I’ll stop now.
I did have this paragraph about how much I love October and the coming winter months, but 1.) it was basically the same thing I write this time every year, and 2.) it was boring. I tried adding some exclamation points to spice it up, but it looked dumb! And it was still boring!
And I had a germ of an idea kicking itself around in my thoughts, but it was about reproductive control. I thought it would be in poor taste considering that one of my frequent readers is pregnant, and that another of my frequent readers just delivered her first child. In fact, she took the effort to mail me a picture of him (his disaffected stare is sublime—I love it!) so I’ll have the decency to wait another week or two before railing against global population growth.
Readers who hunger for my thoughts on books—this would be each and every one of you, I assume—will not get anything from me today, because I don’t feel like repeating myself. I just finished writing a whole week of reviews. Today’s book was so enjoyable that I tracked down the author’s email to tell him so. That would be Coyote at the Kitchen Door, by Dr. Stephen DeStefano. This one is worth hunting down in your local independent bookstore or library.
Since I clearly have very little to say, I’m going to do a mercy killing on this post. Perhaps the blood sacrifice will appease the muse? We’ll find out next week! Meanwhile, happy October to one and all.