A Few Of My Favorite 4-letter Words . . .

Dinner time conversation is sometimes the best part of my day, and the other night's dinner talk was no different.

The topic was favorites.

We listed favorite movies and books.  We took turns guessing lines from our favorite movies, and then we moved on to favorite foods.  I was feeling a bit like Maria in the Sound of Music except instead of singing about favorites during a thunderstorm, we were laughing about our favorites over tater tots. Still, it was a moment, and I was feeling all warm and fuzzy and sentimental.  Naturally after we exhausted our favorite books and movies, the favorites conversation finally led to the topic of favorite words. 

Favorite words?

This former English teacher's heart was bursting at the thought of my kids picking out their own personal favorite words.  Words that were fun to say or just rolled off your tongue a certain way.  Words that were powerful or filled with emothion.  Just what was their favorite word?  Was it simple like pizza?  Was it crazy like Kathmandu?  Or was it one of my personal favorites like onomatopoeia?

I didn't have to wonder long, however, because Ellerie's cheery voice broke into my thought.

"Mommy!  I know what your favorite word is!"

She did? Had I told her about my favorite words before?  

"You do?"  I teased her.  "Well. . . what is it?"

She smiled confidently and then proudly stated, "Shit!"

Shit.

Clearly it is time for this modern day Maria to break out the swear jar and say some Hail Mary's.

On Being Paralyzed

I am paralyzed.

No matter how hard I focus my brain, no matter how hard I will my fingers to type,  no matter how hard I try to breathe and relax, I still feel like I've got nothing.

Nothing.

I am a writer, and clearly, I am blocked.

I wish there was some sort of laxative that I could take that would make the words spill from my heart. I would even consider breaking my gas station cappuccino habit in order to buy the magic pill to unlock the phrases. That's how badly I need a fix.

Instead, I try to appease myself with the fact that this happens to everyone.

Every.single.writer.

All writers at some time or another become stuck and mired with their wheels spinning.  All writers have to dig and fight their way out of the sand pit.  And even though I know this, and more importantly that I understand this,  I am not comforted. 

Because when it happens to you, and you are a writer, it sucks.

Sucks.

But today?

I am taking my first baby steps, and it feels fabulous.

I am walking . . . even if it is only one step at a time.