Linda Scribbles











{October 19, 2021}   On the cusp of change

Or hopefully I am, anyway.  (Thirty-three has yet to take me out! Would you look at that!) The recent efforts toward change in my life have made me reflective, the hour a strange kind of nostalgic for the almosts and life events missed. I’m thinking about all the ways I held back or was held back from being everything that I am and could have grown into, the life experiences I can’t go back and share, the people who would have loved me and who I wanted very much to love– someone asked me recently what my goals were. In the context of that space where they were asking, I was fairly certain of the kind of answer they wanted, but my smart ass opted to get cute about it and ask if they meant in life generally orrrrr– but then as I answered, I realized my answer would have been more or less the same; I want experience, I want stories. And I became a bit emotional when my brain finally clicked on how that has always really been all I wanted. It never seemed like a valid answer, because it wasn’t a thing that could obviously be directly translated into a productive and monetizable pursuit, not one that had ever been expressed as worth the time and effort to do so. Stories and storytelling, like most arts, were (are) severely undervalued, and I internalized that way too hard. For all that stories have been my whole heart, my most sacred sanctuary and most beloved vice, and I feel passionately about the power and artistry in storytelling, I’m finding I’m still struggling with the concept that writing could be a viable career option for me. This is one more thing where I’ve allowed myself to hold back. I’m angry about it, if I’m being honest. And then that just cycles me around to being angry and grieving for the parts of me that have languished, the versions of me left behind, snuffed out before I had the chance to explore them, the me and all the stories I would have had if in just a few more instances I’d had the room to take the chance and not let fear from others wear so deep into me. To the baby me who knew no better and chose to be safe, I’m sorry I did that to us and I love you for doing your best to get us here. To the me yet to come (should we make it past thirty-three, lol), I’m sorry it took so long to figure this out properly, so we could do better still. May we be everything we needed that no one else managed for us, and may we shed more and more still the reservations that have not served us. May we be everything we have always felt afraid to be.

That was meant to just be a brief note about– well, I’m not really sure, I suppose. Reflection and regret and resolve? And then about how I’ve somehow not had the motivation to write for All Hallow’s Read, even though I’ve been anxiously muttering for months that I need to write, so as to not be scrambling ONE MORE YEAR AGAIN to bang something out, and now it’s over halfway through October. So here we are again! Here we are again. Why?

This post got away from me. If you’ve stuck it out to the end, hello there. Thank you and I hope you’re hydrated and as well and safe as can be. I won’t say anything about the current state of the world, because it’s exhausting, but wherever you are in it, I love you.



{October 13, 2019}   All Hallow’s Read 2019

Every year I swear up and down I’m not going to put off writing for All Hallow’s Read until the last minute. For the most part I have been writing, but the finishing is also important, and not so much of that has been happening. I have exactly one completed piece. Just the one. I’m actually pretty happy with it, too, but I can’t help feeling like even if it was the best thing I’ve ever written, it’s not enough. Life is happening, as ever, and my day job saps my time, energy, and mental space, but it’s not impossible to scribble things here and there, so it feels like I should have a lot more to share. It feels like the finishing shouldn’t be nearly so infrequent. I don’t have a positive note to add to this. I suppose I’m just venting my frustration with myself out into the you who may be surprised to find yourself still here. We can be surprised together. Fingers crossed I can bang out just a few more bits and bobs for your reading pleasure.



{November 15, 2012}   Really should update more often.

I’m very bad about updating lately.  It’s a little more difficult to find ways to update on writing projects than it is on video and other projects.  At least when I’m working on a video project I can say things about the production process like, “I’ve checked out my location and found people to be in my video!  Hooray!” or “Jeez, editing takes so loooong!”  And then you can visualize these processes and see the work going into it.  What does one say about a writing project without giving too much away?

“I wrote a lot today!”

“The words weren’t playing nice today.  Bother.”

“My characters keep trying to jump off bridges.  Perhaps I should make a cup of tea and then try writing again.”

These things aren’t very engaging for a casual reader, I think.  Talking about the mechanics of writing can be interesting for those interested, and those interested tend to just be other writers, but even then the talk gets more than a little vague and there’s only so interested anyone can be without knowing the story to which the mechanics pieces belong.  Which brings me right back to giving too much away.  And I really, really don’t want to share things that aren’t complete, at the very least complete.  It’s irksome to everyone involved; for the writer who will then likely get feedback to a story that may not yet have a direction, and for the reader who doesn’t get any kind of closure.  I don’t want to do that.  Or maybe I’m just afraid?  It could go both ways, really.

And that’s the other thing!  The other thing that prevents me from updating lately is that so many story projects get started and not finished.  I thought I’d overcome this horrible habit of mine that I’ve had for as long as I can recall (ask my mother, she’ll confirm it) thanks to the journalism department.  For a while there, I probably had.  I started and finished things, anyway.  I seem to have slipped backwards a little, though, since graduating.  I’m not entirely sure what to do about it except to keep pushing myself forward.

But that’s what I’ve been doing all my life!  So maybe I have to approach this from another direction?

It occurs to me that maybe I simply need a focus.  I need a character or an idea to push around instead of just charging forward on nothing.  Kind of like the difference between walking round and round on a track or just forward forever on a treadmill, and walking with a destination in mind or walking with the purpose of seeing things.  Anyone who knows me personally will tell you I physically can’t focus on one thing at a time, so this will be a bit of a trick for me.  I’ll see how well it works with one just to get me started.  I’ll let you know how that goes, I suppose.

More immediately, I have to figure out how to get around work to write.  I’m not unfamiliar with physically demanding work, but the bakery is absolutely draining physically, mentally and, unexpectedly, emotionally.  I’m finding the more exhausted I am after work (or even the next morning still), the less I can think straight and more prone I am to saying–shouting–“Bugger it!” to everything and everyone.  And then there’s the crying and the fits of fetal-position-muttering that goes along with being tired and pitiful– Well, yes, you get the picture.  Tired duck = disinclined-to-do-much-more-than-loaf duck  Go figure.  There needs to be a writing / story / word-fiddling slow cooker.  Slow cookers are wonderful and terribly useful, especially when you keep them handy for use.  They make dinner so much easier and convenient.  Someone needs to invent one for writing.

So perhaps there was quite a bit to say after all.  I will keep experimenting and trying to keep the words happening and hopefully I can offer something more another day.  Seriously, guys, it’s all one long frikin’ adventure.  We can do this.



et cetera
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