The Fracture: August 2023, Part 1
What is cracking me open and giving me inspiration--whether I like it or not.
Writer’s block is really an illusion. I like to use it as an excuse to stew in procrastination and give the appearance that an eventual magnum opus is on its way. In reality, there are so many things that spark the watered down kindling in my mind; I just need to write them down, poke at them, and allow them to marinate, splayed and soaked.
Keeping in mind my newsletter’s namesake, the clavicle, also known as the collarbone, is one of the most commonly broken bones in the body. Thankfully, treatment usually only requires time and a sling.
So a new section is born, “The Fracture,” where I share the weird things that stuck out, the notable things that startled me. I want my redundancy to be broken by the fractures of life. When I’m woken up by these inspirational impacts, I can use them to write my odd and sentimental mess, especially since my works-in-progress are comparable to times of healing.
Because “done” means fixed, right?
In this edition of “The Fracture,” I give you my contusions and cracks (people, places, interactions, music, etc.) that are triggering my muses and forcing me to write whether I want to or not. Hopefully, they get your creative juices flowing.
The people
A creepy doctor who actually read my medical file (what?!) and asked me inappropriate questions about my private life.
The young barista who didn’t want to be at work and was going to give me a breakfast sandwich with cheese when I asked her to nix it. (I’m lactose-intolerant.) Like a true Millennial Karen, I’m currently boycotting the establishment which is a shame because it’s close to my house.
But principles.
I wish I could boycott the gynecologist office.
But availability.
The dreams
One included a flight that led to a different sort of missed connection.
Another included a decapitation.
Both weren’t particularly pleasant.
I always wanted one of those dream interpretation books as a kid, but they weren’t allowed.
But the internet as an adult is! 😉
The music (always)
“2 Steppin’” - Cherise
I like the velvet of your shoes.
“Luv Is Not Enough (feat. Clear Mortifee)” - Miami Horror
And you made me believe
That I'd heal in time
But the time that we spent
Had me out of my mind
The app
So it sounds pathetic to need help making friends, but Bumble for Friends for the win! I made a great connection that resulted in a coffee meet-up and hopefully a new friend for burlesque class.
I just need to be myself but not too much.
That advice makes me eventually explode. It’s like swallowing a bunch of grenades and hoping for more time.
I wonder what a dream interpretation book would say about that. 🤔
The random
Cream Converse with black laces and Krispy Kreme. One dozen original glazed and one dozen assorted… always.
When someone asks about my tattoos. This time the inquiry was concerning the black-capped chickadee and the magpie. I enjoy when people break into my world like that. (But not like the time in Seattle when a man was behind me in line, traced my arrow tattoo, and asked if it was tribal. I offered a long and sweaty response, and now I wonder why I just didn’t say “no.”)
Filling up buckets of walnut shells in my backyard in a deranged need for purpose. Not enjoying my job search.
The latest episode of “How Did I Get All of These Bruises on My Legs?”
Kind of need this “I got my appendix removed at Claire’s” top, especially since it reminds me of how I would get a new hole in my ears when I was bored in my early 20s. I had eight at one time.
But then I saw this “I got pegged at Cracker Barrel” shirt which just gives me the warm-and-fuzzies.
And that, my friends, is how I get distracted, but we’ll call it “writing inspiration.”