Tag: Moron Writing and Other Compulsions

Organize Your Thoughts

JAM (Justin A. Mustardseed now called himself JAM) sat on the bus and tried to organize his thoughts. There were a lot of things to think about. Spring semester started next week. Justin needed to make a decision about a major. It was an important life decision! He had talked to his parents about it. His dad had gone on for a long time about it. He brought out a number of points that Justin had already forgotten. The main thing, Dad said, was that “things usually work out for the best”, and that Justin should “go with the flow”. Justin needed to think about that. His Mom had told him that he needed to “follow his heart”.

img_1509And what about the writing? What about Justin’s, or rather JAM’s, declared goal of completing a novel by the end of the year? Justin shook his head sadly as the bus pulled up at yet another light.

Moron Writing and Other Compulsions

This is the excerpt for your very first post.

Advice: Don’t talk to yourself so much!

Jason Mustardseed, the aspiring writer, had his favorite pens. Jason especially liked old pens. Fountain pens. Calligraphy pens. Old ball points he had re-filled with those re-fills that you had to buy at a stationery store downtown. Jason loved pens. And Jason had his favorite pencils too. Jason reached across his cluttered desk and carefully selected a pen with which to start his new novel.

“Oh no. Not this one! I can’t write with this one.”

He slid the Papermate back across the desk. “Maybe the green Scripto. No, wait. Let me think about this” Jason just knew that the choice of writing implement was central to the writing process, crucial to his success as a writer. With the right pen in his hand the words would flow….

“Never mind,” said Jason to himself. “If I really was a writer, these sorts of problems wouldn’t arise at all. Pencils! Shmencils! What’s the difference?” he chided himself. Jason suddenly paused, as he noticed that he was talking to himself again. Jason took a prescribed deep breath. “I have to stop talking to myself!” he told himself. A troubling question remained, though: If he himself was doing the talking, who was he talking to? And which one of them was the real Jason? “Yikes!” Jason said to himself. Jason again took a deep breath.

“Ah, but what to write?”

Jason flipped the green Scripto into the air and caught it deftly. He carefully laid it back down on the desk. “Whatever,” he said to himself.