When you have better laid plans

Sometimes I think about what it would be like if I could possibly do something that didn’t rely so heavily on other people.

(No offense, other people, you can be great, but at the same time I’m a bit tired today.)

I have a mind that goes back and forth between blaming myself for something and recognizing that yes, actually it is my fault, because even though it is someone else’s fault I should have figured out a way around it. And as self deprecating as that might seem, it is true. If you want to get something done, sometimes you just have to work out around a person. It might require going through other people, but at least you are making progress. Searching for solutions.

This is what I feel like with myself, just in Writing.

Like parts of me are different people. If the Writer in me doesn’t show up today, well. What to do? Editor has to Write, I suppose. Or the Gamer gets to Write. I feel like I have Written about this before, but it doesn’t stop it from being just as important.

Now if only all these parts of me would get their act together. The Writer doesn’t like showing up. The Editor does a lot more work than everyone. The Gamer would, of course, rather be gaming at all times, just like the Reader wants to read. The Musician shares too many traits with the Outliner and the Editor.

I would like to say these are all one person. They are all me. And that is true. Even when it doesn’t feel like it. It’s not multiple personalities. It is multiple sections of my psyche though, in a way. The impulses of what one wants to do, which can be curbed one way or another.

Yet I want to be an Author, which requires the Writer to do their job. Or, failing that, that someone else does the Writer’s job. Like the Editor.

Time to be grateful that my Editor always shows up.

Why doesn’t anyone pronounce the first ‘r’ in February?

I don’t say it either, but I don’t know why. February is a strange word. So I went and looked it up. One thing I read said apparently people have dropped that first “r” for about a hundred a fifty years. Another mentioned it is because that combination of sounds doesn’t come naturally in the English language. I’ll admit, it is easier for me to say fevrier than it is for me to pronounce February correctly.

And I am wrong. Some people do pronounce it as it is spelled. Props to you. (I am being sincere.) It helps with spelling if you can say words properly.

Oh, wait. There is the word colonel. And if you pronounce that first “l” as an “l” and not an “r”, people will look at you strangely (at least, where I live). I did that once, when I was younger, after I first saw how the word was spelled. Very confusing. The “ei” in eight and the “ei” in height are completely different. So forget my own previous point and let me make the only one that I think really matters.

Can people understand you? Good. That’s all that matters. If someone pronounces something strangely, but you know what they have said, then what? You understand them. That’s all that needs to be said.

Same thing with Writing. What is a wrong way to Write? The right way?

If it is clear, it is right. Not to say that the story can’t be vague, but as long as the reader can follow the words along, some concepts, some actions, some character… something. Writing can be anything. Sometimes it isn’t even a story. Sometimes words for the words’ sake is just as important. Whatever you want to Write.

Maybe there isn’t an audience for whatever, but sometimes there is. Even if that only audience member is yourself. Clarity in expression, even if that expression is confusion.


Crow had thought him to be the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Perhaps that’s why he ripped out his eyes.

She cleared her throat. “Who did what?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Did Crow rip out the other man’s eyes? Or his own? Or did the other person rip out Crow’s eyes so he couldn’t see anything?”

Obviously Crow ripped out the other man’s eyes.”

She was disappointed by that. “I thought it was the other person who ripped out Crow’s eyes.”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense!”

To the story, perhaps not. She still thought it would have been more interesting.

Asking too much

He plucked out a pen and a notebook, dropping it down in front of her. “You will write how you’re feeling.”

She looked up at him, an expression that could only be considered hopeful.

“No, I’m not guessing anymore. I want you to write it down.”

She woofed at him.

“Don’t you pretend you can’t. I’ve seen you watch me do it. I’ve seen you read what I’ve written.”

She wagged her tail.

He sighed, rubbing his short hair back and forth. “Should I get you a large stick and a plot of land?”

The dog decided she’d spent enough time humoring him and went to sleep.

What is implied


“Hold on a moment,” the diary said. “Why do you always start with ‘dear diary’?”

She hesitated. “It’s tradition.”

“I know you’re writing to me. I don’t let anyone else open me up. Can you just get to the point?”

The girl huffed, putting her pen down. “I feel less like writing when you start judging me.”

“Come on now, lassie.”

“No. I’ll write later.”

The diary sighed. “Start however you’d like. Just know that ‘dear diary’ is implied.”

Every writer knows this (or something like this)

It was the day they were going to write their story, so they sat down at their computer and waited for it to turn on. They brought up their document, blank and ready for all of the ideas, and prepared to begin.

Right. Having some coffee would be a good idea. Before starting, so there would be no interruptions. They went and prepared that. Some snacks too. They filled a bowl with trail mix. With the bowl and mug in hand, they returned to their computer, which was ready for the story to commence.

Probably a good time to check email, so they didn’t suddenly wonder about it in the middle of a scene and stop mid-flow to take care of that. They read all the emails, responded to a few, checked out the links that were provided when they were interested. Okay, that was out of the way.

Music always helped the words come out. They brought up Youtube to look through their playlists and noticed that a favorite vlogger had posted. Well, now that they knew…

Somehow that sent them to TV Tropes and the day was gone.

Procrastination strikes again.