Day 4: I Don’t Like to Write

Share one of your favorite (or least favorite) quotes. Tell the reader why it is significant, important, or meaningful.

“I don’t like to write, but I love to have written”

-Michael Kanin


English: David by Michelangelo(back side)

English: David by Michelangelo(back side) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I couldn’t agree more with this quote, I don’t like to write. It probably seems like an oxymoron, and if you wanted to argue with me about it, you’d probably win. Why don’t I like to write? And why do I still love to have written? Writing is painful. Imagine having so many ideas filling your head, all of them sloshing around endlessly to the point of causing actual physical pain. And then, just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, you feel that one idea floating to the surface of your mind, as if it were gasping for air. More agonizing still, is that once it finds its mental, ethereal oxygen source, it pounds inside of your skull like that pesky relative knocking at your door while you pretend you’re home, this one idea could persist in this ever annoying state for hours on end, even days.

It gnaws at you like a ravenous beast until finally, you are forced to put it down on paper. I remind you that this is not an act entirely of your own volition, but rather an act that stems from the need for relief; it is an almost animalistic instinct, a demiurge of sorts. And once you begin moving your pen hastily across the surface of the paper, or typing frantically caught in the fury of nerd rage, you come to a startling revelation; your words, your facility with language is imprecise, imperfect, and broken in comparison to the gold that has carefully sifted its way to the surface of your mind’s eye. You find that the glittering piece of magnificence, that inner Joule is inadequately expressed through the use of your blunt instrument.

Then, like a sculpture who has found the perfect piece of stone, you begin to chip away like Michelangelo feverishly working on his masterpiece, David. Until at last, though not perfect, that jewel in your mind’s eye begins to shine to the outside world. And while you see its flaws, everyone else sees its glory… That’s why I also say, “I don’t like to write, but I love to have written.”

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Day Two: The Straitjacket of Sleep

English: A Comedy icon, based on the Drama Icon

Hello my lovely readers! I’m sorry I’ve been away for a while, technical issues prevented me from maintaining my writing schedule, but I’m back! From here on out, I’ll be writing every day until the end of the 30 day challenge that I’m sharing with you. The prompt for day two asks me to personify an object in the room that was part of the prompt for day one. I hope you enjoy.


My bed. It wraps me in the gentle embrace of a lover who is missed their better half after a long hard day. It sings softly in my ear the siren’s song, calling me to a supposedly ever-peaceful rest. That is the ideal, but not the reality. The reality is that it wraps me in a soft embrace like a crazy lover, wait, more so like a straitjacket. It restricts me, and clutches me like a relentless harpy carrying me to the darkest recesses of my mind, all as I simply stared at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come. I wish I could tell you the noise in my mind was simply white noise that could be forgotten, I wish I could tell you that the solace that the supposed comfort of my bed provided to something to be treasured, but rather it is to be as feared as perhaps a psychotic best friend. She leads me to wonder if I’ll be the same person tomorrow as I was when I went to sleep.


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The Room of a Weary Would-be Hero

Whittingham Asylum 09

Whittingham Asylum 09 (Photo credit: nickcummins)

Welcome to our Writerly month with the Digital Vagabond. This is my mini blog project for the summer. The goal of this blog is to work through the book 30 days of writing prompts by Richard Rohlin. It’s an attempt for me to get to create some new content, and to take myself out of my comfort zone. I also hope that over the next 30 days I develop better habits as a writer, as well as explore my stylistic strengths and weaknesses. I’m looking forward to taking this journey lives, and online, and am happy to be sharing it with you guys. So, without further ado, enjoy!

Describe the room you’re in, as though you’ve entered it for the first time. What does it tell a stranger about its occupants?

The room is bare, organized enough, no one would ever call this the messiest room they stepped into, but it certainly isn’t the most organized. Books are Piled away in very specific and unobtrusive places, it is as if the occupant is hiding his or her own intellect, although in this case it is very likely he. The only marks of the occupant’s personality are found in a Dragon oil warmer, a Justice league poster, and the Superman figurine. It is as if the room houses his boyhood dreams of being able to save the world, but at the same time telling us that he’s all but given up on that dream. The lights are dim yellow, his light is slowly fading, his desk is worn and abused like an old friend who’s been with him for far too long, and carried far too much weight, or perhaps he feels as though he has. Coffee is obviously the insomniac’s cure, providing a tasty escape, and a much-needed dose of clarity, and one of the few people closest to his heart provides him both the solace of memory, and a healthy dose of caffeine as her memory is immortalized on a coffee mug. The room belongs to an incandescent mind, a potentially unsung hero, but a hero that is given up almost all hope for humanity nonetheless.

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