Once upon a time, on a rainy day in Calgary, there lived a young woman that was struggling to be a writer. From her window overlooking Fish Creek Park she watched the rivers of rain snake along the pavement, racing to that little opening in the roads where all rain and debris eventually fall. To be swept away into the dark underground of an energetic city and join up with the Bow River then be carried further south.
She pondered all things writing related. From the conception of an amazing story, all the character and plot development, the exemplary dialogue that she knew would soon spill from her fingertips. She considered first person point of view as opposed to third person. Mentally listed the benefits of both. She set daily writing goals that went unattained.
When it all seemed to become too much to think about any longer and she knew that the best course of action was to just do it, she turned on her laptop. Patiently she waited while the screen sprang to life, loading all that her world had become. An electronic bible that she could not do without. What ever did we do before there was email? Before computers became more of a household appliance than a luxury? Her memory was not what it used to be. She struggled to remember those days but they all seemed to blur together, in a Windows haze of blue and white. There was nothing before computers.
For a brief moment she considered the notebook and pen that was tucked safely in her purse. Available to her for those rare occasions that inspiration struck her and she was no where near her beloved laptop. But as the screen became alive she figured it was just as easy to write directly to the word processor rather than by hand and just have to transcribe everything later.
The mouse pointer hovered over a blank word document icon but she hesitated. There are so many other things that need to get done before she could really sit down to write. Dishes waited for her in the sink, crying out to be washed and put away. Toys lay scattered across the living room and dining room, begging to be put neatly into the toy box. And then there was the vacuum cleaner, gently whispering from the confines of the closet to be freed.
But she suppressed the voices. Moved the mouse pointer over the Internet Explorer icon and waited for the the new window to open. Next she clicked on her Gmail link, typed in her password and waited for it to load. Five minutes went by while she quickly scanned the new emails. Made some quick responses to important messages and read some funny emails. Next she logged into her Facebook account. Viewed all the new updates from her friends, commented on some interesting wall posts, expressed her like of others that she didn't feel necessary to comment on and updated her own status. Some of her closest friends uploaded new photo albums. After browsing the numerous pictures she remembered all the pictures that remained unposted from her recent vacation. But she decided to do that later. Right now there were more important tasks at hand.
Now she checked Twitter. A bunch of new people were following her. Not sure what they found so interesting and she had no idea who they actually were, but it was neat to have people want to know what she was up to. She thought up an interesting new tweet and posted it.
Now it was time to write. Oh wait. Hubby got paid today. Better check the bank account, pay a few bills and put money into the savings account before it all got spent. This suddenly reminded her that she had to go grocery shopping. After the recent vacation, the food supply was quickly diminishing as it had not yet been replenished properly. She peered out at the dreary day. If only she lived in a place where there was no rain and the sun shone everyday. An average daily temperature of 20 degrees would be perfect. But sadly, her fairy godmother had recently passed away and there was no way for her to get her hearts desire unless she were willing to give her soul over to the evil trolls that lived down the road. However, after several consecutive days of rain she was tempted.
But it was time to write. Even just a few words. Enough to be able to say she had accomplished something. She was tapped for ideas. Maybe there was inspiration to be found in some of her friends blog posts. Switching over to Blogger she checked her dashboard to see who had recently posted new material. Not much yet. It was still too early or the middle of the night in other parts of the world. Well maybe she should update her blog. Write something fun and entertaining, maybe even satirical to make the mornings of her fellow bloggers. Make them smile just a little bit as they start their day. Or perhaps give them a little something to muse before they tuck themselves into bed.
But what could she write that would make people laugh? She wasn't a comedienne. Humour was not a natural part of her writing like some others she knew. There was no need to be sentimental. Enough tears were already falling from the heavens.
Think, think, think. Happily ever after stories don't really exist...so it needs to be something just amusing. Life related? Writing related? Mommy related?
She rested her chin in her palm and stared at the cursor as it blinked off and on...