How Not to Write

Three-Toed Sloth

Maybe you noticed my absence from Blogworld recently. If so, I’d like to say it was because I got really inspired, holed up in front of a keyboard for two weeks, and hammered out three chapters of a novel (which also happens to be my final ICL assignment).

I’d like to say that. I’d also like to say that on a recent business trip to Florida, I stumbled upon the legendary Fountain of Youth, the waters of which not only restored the body of my twenties, but also removed my deficit of wisdom.

I’d like to say that. But you know it ain’t so.

Truth is I have more excuses than a D.C. politician why I haven’t blogged, but at least I’m not blaming it on a former president. Truth is I’m as stuck as a burr on Velcro. 

That final ICL assignment? The months of planning and prewriting, of interviewing characters and agonizing over plot points? Except for the lesson, “How Not to Write,” it was all wasted, like trying to circumnavigate a city by following only the dead-end streets. I kept telling myself it would work out. Here’s a great quiz question: which is easier to fool? a) yourself; b) a three-toed sloth? If you said “b,” I have some miracle water I’d like to sell you.

From now on I think I’ll recognize a story vehicle that just isn’t going anywhere. No use tinkering around under the hood trying to get it started when it’s wheel-less and perched on blocks.

I’m starting over. Without miracle water, I’m afraid.

Photo Credit: http://flic.kr/p/qGmMD