With my youngest son home for a visit, I didn’t expect to get much, if any, writing done. So I was not surprised that all I wrote was two blog posts and two more paragraphs in the first chapter of a new novel. I watched a lot of television, ate too much food, and survived our first 108° day of the season.
What else did I do? Well, there was some family stuff: a birthday party, a Wii challenge, and a concert where another of my sons played trumpet (magnificently, of course!), but I learned a few fascinating things too.
- Among the 18 and over crowd around here, hookah lounges are the big thing. Why does no one tell me these things? And how far over 18 can you be?
- On the same day the temp in the valley was 108°, it was only 66° on the beach less than three hours away! Not that I was at the coast.
- I can’t pronounce the phrase Warp Tour without a pause between the two words. My mouth just won’t cooperate, though I can say it with a Texas(?) accent—Wurp Tur.
- One event you might see at said Warp Tour is something called the Wall of Death, where the male concert goers separate, backing up on either side of a wide path down the middle and then, at a signal from the band, rush at each other shoving, stomping, fist flying, whatever. It’s bizarre behavior to me, but then so is war.
- You can see something like the WoD—on a miniature scale—in the new Twilight movie, which I was coerced into attending. I’ve read none of the books, nor have I seen either of the previous movies … but in case you’re wondering, I would choose Jacob.
- The next Harry Potter movie will be in two parts—but I’m sure you knew that already. The trailer looks great!
- According to the frequency with which I had to ask younger family members to repeat themselves this week, it appears I’m losing my hearing. I blame it on my husband who now turns up the sound on the television to 25! See what I get for trying to spend time with him?
However, the most important thing I learned this week of essentially no writing is that I could actually do that—no problem. That disturbs me. My life returns to normal tomorrow, and I’m a bit anxious to see what happens then. Maybe I should run over to the Lebanese deli and buy a hookah.
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10 thoughts on “What did I learn during one week without writing?”
Being able to adapt to the situations we find ourselves in is not always a bad thing. Perhaps you are just very good at adapting. (I don’t know about you but I’m kind of likely that word.) I’m sure tomorrow, when you life returns to “normal,” you will marvel at how quickly you can fall back into your writing. 🙂
I’m sure you are very anxious to get started again, and that is always a good thing. You may even find that this small break will prove to be beneficial.
I don’t know about my adapability, Laura. I’ve become rather selfish when writing, so I usually feel just a teeny bit resentful of being pulled away from it even by family, but this time I felt none. That’s what disturbed me. Of course, I wasn’t exactly tearing up the keyboard before this hiatus, so maybe that’s the difference. But I do hope you’re right that this break will prove beneficial.
I think it’s great to take time to not write. And, with all you experienced, I imagine you have quite a few new stories brewing in your writer’s mind. I mean, I only know you by your avatar, but imagining you smoking a hookah and repeating Wurp Tur between puffs of smoke…the details of that story could unfold in so many interesting ways! 🙂
Me as the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland! 😀 Thanks for the laugh, Christi.
I have ebbs and flows in NEEDING to write. But any writer is always writing in their head.
Over the weekend I had a poet I know tell me that he was at a reading and the poet who was speaking said that she loved having the work in her head where it was all crystalized and pure, and each time she put it down on a page then it felt like a little death because she knew that then she was then going to edit it.
Isn’t that an interesting idea?
I’m glad you reset your brain with a break. I have to confess that I knew little of the trivia you learned while cavorting with the under 18 crowd. But I found it amusing none the less. [and you with a hooka? rofl….hee hee hee…..thank you for that]
Karen, you just reminded me of a poem I was composing as I drove across town this morning. I got distracted when I arrived home and forgot to write it down, but maybe it’s better left in its “crystallized and pure” form. 🙂
There’s a hookah lounge about 20 min from where I live, have never been to one but I admit they look very interesting. Don’t worry you were able to be without writing. It doesn’t mean you cannot get back into it, sometimes, we actually need a total break to come back refreshed 🙂
After yesterday’s thoughts, I’m wondering if the break broke my mind, but we’ll see. 🙂
I went to a hookah lounge for the first time about four years ago, when I first got into belly dancing. I wanted to see a specific dancer performing there. But I first saw hookahs in use at a Greek tavern in Atlanta that was one of my favorite night spots (also had belly dancers) a couple of years before that. I liked the idea of all the flavored tobaccos appearing on the menu in a separate section, like alcohol. Cherry tobacco smells heavenly. I had no idea it was a craze, but both times the activity seemed popular — even with the over-30s like me, and beyond. 😀
Of course, when I first actually attempted to draw from the hookah, sitting on satiny cushions under a silk-draped ceiling meant to feel like a sumptuous desert tent, I coughed so hard I practically collapsed. No one told me you’re not supposed to inhale. 😉 Oops!
That’s a funny hookah story, Meredith. 😀 When I was a child, my father smoked a pipe for a while, and I loved when he smoked cherry tobacco. I’ve wondered if it would work as potpourri.