I’m thinking I should take this story somewhere, but I have very little time to develop any of my original writing. Let me know if you think it’s worth continuing.

I don’t like reading.
I don’t read.

This isn’t odd for a writer, especially a journalist.

I’m busy. I read my Blackberry and my bank statement and my travel itinerary.

I’m busy.
I don’t read.

Of course, the version of the truth I’m telling here – the version of myself I’m showing you – is an edited document, not the raw logs. If this were all there was of me, it’d be fraught with chicken scratches and coffee stains and the faint taint of nicotine and sweat.

Oh, and the regular smudge of newsprint.

See, I lied. I still read the paper. Every morning. Front page to Obits and even the lingering glances at the Personals.

Habit is a powerful magnet. That and I love the smell of paper like other people enjoy Scotch or Cigar Smoke of New Car (or New Baby).

Scent being the sense with the strongest linkage to our memory, maybe I’m just trying to remember what it’s like to be home. Have a real life and a real job.

It’s my Grandfather’s study and all those aromas are there. The scotch and smoke and new car scent (even my baby brother’s dirty diaper – not so fresh or new baby) all coalesce into that newsprint. Those pages. That heap of captured words and captioned pictures and comics and coupons.

That’s me now.

A heap.
Captured.
Captioned.
Comical.
Handing a drink coupon to a stewardess on a flight to nowhere.

I haven’t read the ticket. Don’t know my itinerary. Don’t know my assignment or the assignment editor.

Shut off the berry. Shut down. See you on the ground.

Comments appreciated.

For a long time I’ve been turning around the phrase, the exhortation, “I Was Promised A Flying Car“, in my mind.

I always saw it as the beginning of a post-apocalyptic movie or novel or maybe even a long-form magazine piece on all the crushed dreams of kids like me who never went to Space Camp but got Epcot instead. Whatever.

I’ve finally (or potentially for the second time, but no more than third) put the line down as the beginning, middle and end to a Ficly Friday story.

Please enjoy “I Was Promised A Flying Car” and leave me comments here or there.

If you’re participating in Ficly Fridays – either regularly or haphazardly – let me know and we’ll exchange links.

Happy Ficly Friday!

I’ve been needing a push recently.

Needing to go outside to run and play.
Wanting to start something new but not knowing what to start or where to start it.
Wishing the stars would just align and get the ascension of damnation over with already, thank you very much.

The push has arrived, mid-back and with an overabundance of force, in the form of Hugh MacLeod’s new book, Ignore Everybody. His crazy deranged fools mailing list and twitter feed are culprits as well.

I’d charge them with assault if I didn’t like the jolt it gave me, popping me right back into the reality of following my creative urge. [Particularly pertinent cartoon to this effect today.]

Last Summer I wrote flash fiction in the form of Ficlet Friday. [Archives]
Last November I crossed the finish line of NaNoWriMo 2008.
Last year is over and this year is half done and what have I done?

So, thanks to Hugh and the always helpful/supportive/creative Will Hindmarch, I’m getting back on the writing train.

Finding an easy outlet (for me) to let my creative juices pool in places online.
Taking care of myself by doing instead of putting off until later (which never comes) when I’m “ready” or I have the “right” tools.
Lowering the barrier to my entry into the things that give me joy and vibrancy and meaning.

For the remainder of the Summer, Ficlet Friday is becoming Ficly Friday (due to the closing of the former/replacement of the latter).

I’m also going to start doing some random 140-characters-or-less poetry on Twitter using the hashtag #poetweet. I think this is practical, clever and productive.

Feel free to join me in either endeavor, if you’d like. We had a ton of fun last year doing flash fiction on Fridays and poetry on Twitter is (theoretically) easy. It makes a great canvas for haiku (nudge/wink).

Anyhow, I think this will be good for me. After a hiatus (too long for me) I’m ready to get back on the horse and start being creative again. Stop taking my inner voice for granted.

Cheers and thanks to both Hugh & Will!

That whole Ficlet Friday experiment? Yeah, it was fun while it lasted but it seems as though I, along with everyone else, let it whither in the Summer Sun.

Sorry. If I’m blogging about writing – fiction writing – don’t deny me an allusion.

Cut to last night’s iPhone/iTunes update. I get an email from Chris @ NaNoWriMo about some site upgrade or another and it reminds me that while we may be 7 weeks away from the general election, we’re closer still to the start of NaNoWriMo.

And this is the year I finish.
This is the year I write like I’ve been exercising: daily
This is the year it goes into a document, not into the void or a dream or a lazy cubicle chat with a colleague.

Rather than continue making declarative statements that may not come true, I’ll link to a Psychology Today piece on creativity that induced both head-shaking agreement and head-shaking bewilderment. Why are creatives (and I’m being generous to lump myself in here) such dichotomies?

So how should I harness these dual impulses inside me to create … whatever it is I’m creating.

Art?
A novel? (Hopefully)
Prose?
This blog post? (Definitely)

I’m thinking the solution, which came to me via Bump, is going to be Evernote.

Simple.
Multi-purpose (good for grocery lists AND late-night ideas).
Multi-platform (Web & iPhone app)

Here’s the first “creative” thing I’ve captured using Evernote. Let’s hope I give it enough food and water to grow:

The fight isn’t the last stand
It’s the first stanza

Granted it’s only a fragment, a strand, a shard of an inkling of something larger, but I like it. For the moment.

My point is that at least the moment was captured. If I revise or delete or reverse or reconfigure later, the fact remains that I had the raw materials to begin with.

While I may feel sorry – surprisingly not too much – about the Ficlet Fridays petering out, I’m happy that, for the first time, I’m confident and assured by some semblance of process going in to NaNoWriMo.

More as I create more.

Happy Hump Day!

Saturday we’ll fly from Atlanta to Maui for 10 days of paradise.

In the 10 days leading up to vacation, I’ve been trying to put in the last-minute cardio/push-ups/sit-ups.

Here’s the tally from the weekend:

6,500 steps on the stepper
250 sit-ups
200 push-ups

Not exactly Jack LaLanne or Arnold Schwarzenegger, but I’ll take it.

Here’s to more working out this week.

And since I didn’t post on Friday, here’s last week’s Ficlet, Unlisted Number.

Enjoy!