Is This Anything?

Sometimes It Is, Sometimes It's Not

How do professional writers do it? From where does the inspiration come? Especially when your brain is taking some time off? (I think mine is only working part time now.)

I would guess even a pro feels the pressure to produce, at least occasionally. As soon as something is published, someone is waiting for the next one.

I do not consider myself a writer. Sure, I create these little essays, but I don’t think of myself as a real writer. It’s sort of like this: I can catch a baseball and I know how to play the game, but it doesn’t make me a ballplayer. I can think up words to write, but I don’t believe that makes me a writer.

For me, the most daunting part of the whole process is that blank page at the very beginning. It can be a little scary and intimidating. Then I’ll type some stuff and ask myself, “Is this anything?” Sometimes it is, often it is not.

When there’s a chance it is something, I’ll think about it, ponder it, mull it over, kick it around, toss it against the wall to see if it sticks, tweak it, add to it, subtract from it, curse it, praise it, tear it apart, build it up, trash it, remove it from the trash, reject it, reflect upon it, and, finally, wrap my loving arms around it, showering it with gentle caresses, massaging it into what I hope are coherent, readable sentences that will encourage my readers to keep on reading. Often, as Ringo Starr said many years ago, “It don’t come easy”.

Once I get the basic framework written, I’ll copy and paste my essay from the WPS document to my Substack page as a new post. From there, I’ll spend however much time is needed to tweak it and add pictures, and do whatever else should be done before I schedule it for publication. Then, it’s on to the next one.

Sometimes there is a storm of ideas swirling around in the increasingly limited space in my brain, and all I have to do is capture one and let my fingers type it up. Other times, getting an idea to germinate is like eating soup with a fork. Maybe it can be done but it’ll be a lot of work and it will take forever. And, sometimes, the ideas do not want to be captured. They want to maintain their freedom to bounce around up there.

Perhaps I need to rethink my silverware usage. Eating peas with a knife and steak with a spoon did not go so well, either.

Often, the ideas for “The Storm. By Norm” pop up on my daily walks. I put on my big headphones and fire up my iPod (yes, I still use an iPod) and spend the next 60-90 minutes walking and listening to the soundtrack of my life. Sometimes I focus on the music and putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes the music is background to whatever ideas are blooming that day.

I learned early on that when I got home after walking, I could not count on remembering the great ideas I had while navigating those mean streets. I do have a pocket-sized notebook my wife gave me to jot down ideas while walking, but sometimes I forget it. If I don’t have my notebook with me, I’ll record a video of myself speaking the idea on my phone.

I wish I could capture the feeling I get when the synapses are firing, and the thoughts are flowing freely and actually making sense. The times when this happens are becoming more and more rare and fleeting. And, unfortunately, I am unable to access this feeling on demand. It would make the process so much easier if I could.

Look at all the great ideas firing up in my brain!

I am definitely a creature of habit, and, as such, I have developed something of a routine for creating posts for The Storm. By Norm. I like to set up in our bedroom, and, surprise, surprise, things have to be a certain way. I like the bed to be made. I like the shutters to be open because I enjoy the natural light. I must be dressed in my “hanging around the house” clothes. I sit up with pillows behind me to support my back and I stretch my legs straight out. A tall plastic cup (not glass) usually filled with unsweetened iced tea on my nightstand. Sometimes Pearl joins me on the bed, either beside me or between my feet. My MacBook rests on my lap, waiting for me to start banging on the keys.

Obviously, I’m not getting much writing done in this photo.

On rare occasions, the ideas seem to write themselves. That’s when the writing of the essays is most enjoyable. Then there are times where the idea seems good, but I have to really work it to the point where I’m happy enough with the thing to share with the world.

I will admit I get caught up in the number of views my posts get. I check the stats regularly. I do enjoy knowing there are people taking the time to read the stuff I’ve written. Often, the number of views a post gets does not match my expectations. Essays that I would categorize as among my best do not always get the most views. Then, there are those that get more attention than I thought they would. I am unable to predict what will be popular and what will not.

It is nice to receive validation for my efforts, in the form of views and likes and shares and comments, and I greatly appreciate all who honor me by subscribing to and reading my stuff. But I have said before that I write to please myself, and that is still true.

More subscribers and readers would be wonderful, yet I am unwilling to do some of the things that successful Substackers do. Like social media. I do not have a social media presence and Substack suggests that is a useful key to growing a publication.

Another thing successful Substackers do is to narrow the focus of their posts. But, I don’t want to do that. I enjoy writing about different subjects. I do not want to write solely about, say, current events, or baseball, or politics, or childhood memories.

Of course, with this scattershot approach, there are going to be posts that even the most loyal readers and subscribers will find uninteresting, or possibly even offensive. It certainly is not my goal to be uninteresting or offensive, however, narrowing my focus to one subject is uninteresting to me. So, many thanks to all of my regulars for hanging in there with me, even though I may post an essay now and then that makes you think, “Well, that was a clunker.”

Churning out essays for The Storm. By Norm may be the best way I’ve found to express myself. Thanks for joining me on this magical journey.

To my unparalleled subscribers, please help me grow my publication by sharing my posts with family and friends, or on your social media accounts. Thank you for your support.