I need to make a deposit in the word bank.
January 12, 2012
When I was in the 4th grade I received an A on a writing assignment. I had to describe an inanimate object. I chose to write about the pen with which I was writing.
I remember very little of my childhood, but I remember that assignment because it was there that the love of writing was birthed in me. I have written (but not published) several books for children, and writing assignments in school always seemed to be the easiest things I had to do. Even in college, thought pieces, essays and analysis always came easier than other assignments.
So, imagine the kerfuffle I find myself in, being at a loss for words. It’s not as if I have had an encounter with the supernatural, and am at a loss for words in awe. It’s not because I was knocked on the noggin and can’t remember how to write (at least I don’t remember being knocked on the noggin). I haven’t been writing or talking a lot, so I am not overdrawn at the word bank. It’s not because I am afraid, aflame or afoul of the law. I am simply at a loss for words.
I have dozens of dribs and drabs of drafts; half completed thoughts of.
Sort of like that, only longer.
So now, a week has gone by and I have posted nothing new. Re-runs don’t even work.
So I will wait a bit longer, and hope I don’t have to take up painting.
