Author: Maria Johnson

tired of not posting anything…

I submit to you this picture that I brazenly stole from Captain Jeff’s twitterpics. Ha! I cleverly used my new internet mojo to swipe it.

Here’s a better look at what he’s holding 🙂

I’m not gonna lie…this tastes really good

Oh boy this is a tasty dessert. It’s called Kremowka Papieska. I guess it’s the Pope’s Cream Cake or whatever. Who cares. It’s tastes good. In fact, it reminds me a lot of Senoritas. A little hat tip to Steve Nelson for talking about it yesterday. I never would have made it if it hadn’t been for a grand opportunity to incite a headache for Sarah Reinhard. Oh, and I guess I better tell Jeff Young I’m cooking. He likes things like that. Who knew?

still manic

My newest psychosis is listening over and over and over to the Caro Emerald song, “A Night Like This.” Really, I need an intervention.

It’s just the mood lifter I’ve needed this past week, and it is so catchy that I just put it on repeat and it is the perfect white noise for writing. I find myself clickety-clacking to the beat, but hey, it’s helping me write, so “hesh-yo-mouf” as they say around here.

It reminds me, of course, of all the ambient sounds that can really get in my head when I need to concentrate and I’ve managed to get into that zone, only to suddenly hear the hum of the lights. That’s probably the most annoying thing ever, to be so focused that a sound I wouldn’t ordinarily hear becomes a gigantic distraction. Thus, I play music that becomes so familiar I can tune it out.

I know people do it. I can name a few, but overall, it’s probably a tool that not many people admit to using. I mean, it looks pretty crazy to admit to listening to the same song for an hour straight and not be 16, mooning over an unrequited love, and wallowing in teen-aged angst.

Nope. I’m just happily getting some writing done. It’s nice to be able to finish this project that I’ve been working on in one manifestation or another for about a decade. It’s not that I’ve been writing for ten years, but that I needed to round out my experiences in order to finish it the way I am. That’s all you get for the moment. In actuality, this little baby is old enough to go to kindergarten now, so I figure I should just finish it, as in, stop writing and start editing.

That’s a bad word, by the way. If I love to write, I hate to edit. That’s why I have a stack of unfinished manuscripts. I hate to edit. Or maybe, the exercise was just writing the darn thing. It’s done and out of my system, why labor over finished business?

Because if I don’t finish the editing, no one will read my work. No one will swoop in and pay me obscene amounts of money to buy it from me. I won’t make millions of dollars. I won’t be able to have that beach house on the east coast of Florida. I won’t be able to get plastic surgery and look like Joan Rivers!

Hmmm. Breathe. And switch to a more calming song by Vivaldi.

As I was saying, if I don’t finish editing I won’t have a polished product that I can be proud of showing to people who may like to read my work. Yes. That’s a bit more normal-sounding.

And I really want to be rich and buy an iPad.

manic…monday?

I’ve had a manic writing period these past 2 weeks. It’s been pretty unusual to say the least. Ordinarily my avoidance behaviors lead me in other directions, away from writing. I guess my word tank finally filled up. I’m not going to try to figure it out, I’m just going to ride this wave until it washes ashore — no doubt leaving me in the sand covered in seaweed and sand lice. I’ll live with that when the moment comes. Until then, I feel like the Silver Surfer.

It does kind of wreak havoc with my personality, though. I wouldn’t call it a depression because it doesn’t make me sad — more like subdued. It just ZAPS my energy. Geez. Why couldn’t this be easy?

I once saw an interview with Barbara Cartland, the prolific writer of hundreds of romance novels — the ones with Fabio on the cover! The interview was in her boudoir and she was draped across a chaise lounge. For real! She admitted to writing the same story over and over, selecting the characters and settings from rolodexes of possibilities. I admire her chutzpah for admitting as much. Hilarious, if you ask me. I mean, this feisty old broad is a far cry from the stereotype of the  long-suffering writer.

I also happened to catch an interview with Jackie Collins, another prolific writer — and interesting character. When I first saw her talking about her office and her work ethic, I had to chuckle a little. She writes from a large table in a well-lit room, in a scrapbook-like notebook where she hand-writes her manuscript.

Teehee. Hand-writes her manuscript. Hand writes. Get it? Manu-script.

I never thought I’d have something in common with Jackie Collins. It turns out that some of my best writing happens, not on my fancy schmancy computer, but on notebook paper using a #2 pencil. I can’t even claim to use a fancy pen.

There’s just something about hearing the scratch of the lead on paper.