Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Getting lonely around here
Soon after I began blogging, I remember reading an author’s comments about why he had stopped blogging. It may have been Cory Doctorow, or maybe one of the other literary youngbloods. He wrote that blogging was a lot like stand-up comedy. You need to be fresh, you need new material, and eventually it gets to be rather wearying.
Well, that’s a paraphrase of something I read four years ago. I may have mangled it. It certainly captures how I feel.
I’ve settled into a new and by necessity tiring routine: I work long days five days a week (except on my day-off-without-pay), somehow manage to get most of the cooking, cleaning, and shopping done, catch up on chores on the weekend, try to answer all my emails. Since this job ain’t forever, I’m in search mode, too. It’s hard getting phone calls from potential employers or partners at 8 PM when I’m corpse-tired and not wanting to be bright and interesting and engaging. I’ve already blown off two possibilities, each time because of a bad vibe. Oh, and there was a third. Good vibe that time, bad location.
But I digress. All of this stress and fatigue has taken its toll on the blog, and correspondingly, my readership. I think a lot of people have given up on Balls and Walnuts and I can’t say I blame them. I’ve had to focus on the job and writing has become a luxury. I’m hoping the muse will rouse from her slumber once my life shifts into a more normal routine, one not involving 2.5 to 3 hours of commute time daily, but in the meantime, I feel like a dear friend is in a coma.
Something is missing and I don’t know how to get it back. I don’t know, maybe what I really need is a velvet merkin.
I could really go for one right now.
D.
I haven’t given up on you Doug. Still checking in regularly for those Ballsy and Walnutty gems, but not much rime at present to hark to my own muse.
I think you’ll find your readers are more than forgiving, and some of your blogs have been so good, they won’t mind the slump. Transition periods are tough; once you find something permanent, you’ll feel better, and you’ll go back to Thursday Thirteens.
I haven’t given up, either, Doug. You could post your shopping list and I’d read it, because you’re good people.
Doug, I would never give up on you as long as you are writing. I check here everyday because I get something from reading your stories. I’ve always found you to be interesting with an imagination that I enjoy immensely. If leaving more comments would help, I will make sure to do so. I’m with Chris on this, you are good people.
Aw, shucks . . .
Mostly, I’m just kvetching. I miss writing (fiction, I mean). Blogging is better than nothing, but I really miss writing. My difficulty with the blog is the same as my difficulty with writing fiction: I’ve been too distracted by work to manage any real creativity.
This “make a better life for my family and me” thing is a bitch.
All of us readers feel your pain, but not knowing what to say, we sometimes say nothing. You should have a contest among us for the best suggestions on how to make your life better. Here’s mine: no matter what sacrifice you would need to make to pay for it, I would immediately hire a housekeeper to do the cleaning, laundry, shopping and even some cooking. You’re gonna flame out with the pace you are trying to keep up. Also, it’s never too early to teach a child how to do the laundry and clean the house. I’m a firm believer in child labor. At our house, children’s punishments always consisted of cleaning up a closet, or drawers, or some other monumental task that I had put off.
Thanks, Lucie. You win 🙂
Actually, a velvet merkin might really help. 😉
….oh wait, you meant the kind you drink? Never mind.
Sorry….I’m probably not making the best FIRST IMPRESSION here, am I!? LOL!
I’m a guy. A huge black bra always makes a great first impression 🙂
I think people are getting
Ack, didn’t finish! As I was saying, people seem to be getting quiet and laying low all over the interwebz. It’s not just you. I’m still checking in and fingers are crossed you find the right permanent position in a good location. And now I can follow you on Twitter, bwaha.
It isn’t you. It’s me. I just didn’t feel like commenting. I went back to lurking for a while. Twitter is mad at me. I deleted the account. Twit central says it will take 30 days to get it back. That’s what Twits are made of apparently.
Thanks, Charlene. I hope so too . . .
CornDog: It isn’t you. It’s me.
So YOU are the one who is responsible! Anyway, how bizarre is it that it takes thirty days? Can’t you just start a new one, or would you lose all your twittering friends? Or is it tweety friends?
Doug-eee-poo!
After my year long personal hiatus from blogging, you were one of the first blogs I came back to. Stick around, I’ll send ya another cleavage shot. *wink
I just discovered your site and loved what I read so far. I know what you mean about slumps and dry spells. This is the time of year they take hold. I was surfing new territory to see if I could inspire some ideas for a pirate story and found your pirate post. It put me in pirate mind. I hope you’ll hang in there. When you’re feeling stuck in a rut it helps to go new places and experiment with new things. Good luck. Keep blogging. I put you in my feed.
Thanks, Nara. Welcome!
still following..