So, here I am a week later, promising that I really haven’t fallen off of the earth yet again. In fact, I’ve been keenly aware of my lack of writing lately, despite my husband’s efforts to make this whole work on my writing thing (will I ever stop feeling like an idiot for saying that?) actually a reality. It takes a special spouse to do that.
I have hit that wall and it’s tall and thick and is beginning to feel a little unyielding. And, oh, let me tell you, I have tried every little tip and trick that I know. I’ve made lists. I’ve rambled for paragraphs and pages about absolutely nothing beyond the fact that I can’t come up with anything to write. I’ve talked things out while pushing the lawn mower, dumping the grass, and taking a shower. Nothing is working. Not a thing.
So what did I do? I went to the local produce market– there is something to be said for moving away from civilization, and that something is farm fresh produce– and loaded up on a bag full of locally grown SC peaches.
Maybe cooking could shake me out of this funk.
I made a peach cake:
And that’s the only photograph worth anything that I took of it. The process shots are pretty ick, and the final shots were nothing to write home about. The cake tasted great, and I wrote up the recipe, but those process shots…I can’t get past them. I will. It’s my goal to just do it, but, eh. The chip in the mortar of my mental block, turned out to be stronger than I thought. So I backed off, again.
Then I decided, Screw it. I’m going to keep trying. So I started writing and testing more recipes: roast beef (the kind you slice), barbecue chicken and bacon pizza, whipped potatoes, roast beef and cheddar croissants, ham and cheddar croissants, beef and tomato salad with feta and balsamic vinaigrette, old-fashioned fast food burgers. I even when back to the local produce market and bought several more pounds of peaches and made peach crumb bars. In fact, I just finished typing up the recipe for those very crumb bars.
What’s standing in the way? Those awful photographs.
I don’t know what’s up with this mental block, but it’s affecting every ounce of creativity I possess right now. I literally want to let out a primeval scream about it all, you know?
Tomorrow morning, I will get up and try (between maneuvering around the kids, cats, dishes, and laundry) with all of my might to pull together some sort of scene for those peach crumb bars that I have stored away in my refrigerator awaiting their close-up. Maybe inspiration will strike. I hope so, because I’m starting to get a little bit frustrated. Just a little.
Possibly, maybe, peaches could just be the cure for which I’ve been searching. If you hear that scream, you’ll know the answer.