Saturday, December 26, 2015

A Hello Kitty In A Suitcase Washes Up On A Beach

Los Angeles, Sunset on Christmas Day 2015


So, I know the day after Christmas is not a good time to kvetch about the fact that I haven't done any real writing in weeks and weeks, but I haven't really written anything in weeks and weeks. There's a lot going on in these parts, in addition to The Holidays, but I generally write like the dickens no matter. This time, no matter isn't working for me, and I just don't have it in me to spin my stuff.
Tonight, I was talking with my sister on the telephone, and she was trying to remember the name of the book that she's reading. My sister is 50, and I'm 52, and we're both voracious readers, but we're both having a hard time recalling the names of the books we're reading. (Our other sister is a spring chicken at 42 and also a voracious reader but she claims memory loss as well). The 50 year old told me that she was reading a really good one that was shortlisted for the Booker prize (we both believe firmly that you can never go wrong with Booker finalists). She asked me whether a Hello Kitty in a suitcase that washes up on a beach rang a bell, and I said no but that I thought the question would make a great comedic line in a video or sit-com about two middle-aged sisters. Meanwhile, my sister headed upstairs in her house to check on the title which I didn't recognize, and when I asked her who the author was, she said Ruth and I said Ozeki and she said Yes! and I said I haven't read it but I hear it's good and she agreed. I simultaneously remembered that Ruth Ozeki was a Hedgebrook writer, that she'd spent time on Whidbey Island just like I had done but hell if I remember that person. Me, a Hedgebrook Writer in Residence. Was that a dream? Did I really go there? I had so much potential! Where has it gone? When will I write again?

20 comments:

  1. Intellectual overload--that's what I call it.

    Best,
    Bonnie

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  2. Any writing you do I'd claim as my own. You are brilliant my lady.

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  3. I would say your brain is full. Give it some time. I admire you and your ability to string words together, I wish I could do that, ever.

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  4. Me too. I keep telling myself it's normal and okay to have dry spells. And I also keep trying to remember an article u read recently about the necessity of dry spells but fuck it if I can remember the title.

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  5. Dry spells are gathering cycles. A lot is happening. You're experiencing it all and then you will process it all. Most likely in writing. It's also hard to write when you need to work around a central thing that is happening but that you can't really discuss. Or so I find. Love to you hon.

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  6. I wish blogger had a way for us to edit our comments. Hon? Why not...

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  7. I'm glad someone else has this problem. Sometimes even when I love a book, I later can't remember a thing about it -- including the title. We have some Ruth Ozeki in the library. I think I'll get ahold of it when I go home. (If I ever finish what I'm reading now, which at the moment, given the abundance of activity around here, doesn't seem likely.)

    Angella is right -- you're gathering material. A writer's brain never stops!

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  8. I can't remember shit, except my dreams. I woke up this morning and the dream seemed so real I was worried that it had actually happened. A very bizarre dream involving laundry, forbidden love, toilets and tampons. My beleaguered brain even threw Katie in to round off the weirdness.

    As for you, of course you'll write again. I think just keeping your head above water is about all any of us can manage during the holidays. You have a fair bit of stuff going on in your life besides the holidays. It will happen.

    Take care and sending hugs.

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  9. I laughed at the title (so your instincts are definitely right there ;)

    I have no doubt that your words will return, wherever they have temporarily gone. Perhaps they are in Tahiti, floating in turquoise waters, or walking the beach in the moonlight...

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  10. You will write again. It is all down there in the basement, just simmering away. Trust me.
    As to forgetting titles of books or anuthors' names- I have let that one go as gracefully as possible. I am glad just to be able to read.

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  11. "A Tale for the Time Being" and I loved that book. Keep on keeping on. Maybe you are resting - something is brewing.

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  12. I remember the writer from Whidbey. You asked me what I was reading and for the life of me I couldn't remember the titles of the last 3 books I had read. As I say to myself about my teenagers every other day..."it's a phase".

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  13. I remember the writer from Whidbey. You asked me what I was reading and for the life of me I couldn't remember the titles of the last 3 books I had read. As I say to myself about my teenagers every other day..."it's a phase".

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  14. Boy do I know that feeling. What are we gonna do?

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  15. I can remember the titles, usually, but I can hardly ever remember what they were about.

    Everything that you need to write is probably already in your head, or mostly. It'll pop out when the pressure against the door is too much.

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  16. Stress...that and menopause about covers it My mother used to say she suffered from CRS disease--Cannot Remember Sh-t. Now, I know what she meant.

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  17. You will spin your stuff again one day. I blogged my way through a lot of very, very dark and sad times in my life and it helped get me through. Maybe start a private blog for invited readers only to let loose your weary soul.

    "Breathe (2 AM)"

    2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
    "Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
    I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"
    Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
    Like they have any right at all to criticize,
    Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason

    'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
    And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
    No one can find the rewind button, girl.
    So cradle your head in your hands
    And breathe... just breathe,
    Oh breathe, just breathe

    May he turned 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
    "Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,
    "Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."
    Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
    But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
    Wanna hold him. Maybe I'll just sing about it.

    Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
    And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
    No one can find the rewind button, boys,
    So cradle your head in your hands,
    And breathe... just breathe,
    Oh breathe, just breathe

    There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
    You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
    And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
    If you'd only try turning around.

    2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
    **If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
    Threatening the life it belongs to**

    And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
    Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
    And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

    But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
    And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
    No one can find the rewind button now
    Sing it if you understand.
    and breathe, just breathe
    woah breathe, just breathe,
    Oh breathe, just breathe,
    Oh breathe, just breathe.

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  18. Dear Hedgebrook Alumna, my favorite Ruth Ozeki book is "My Year of Meats." Highly recommended.

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  19. I loved that book! And I did recognize it from the description of the Hello Kitty (although the only part of the title I could recall was the word "Time"). I can't remember any of the titles of books I read, either, and I'm 44. The part of that that is the most frightening to me is the history of early-onset Alzheimer's that runs in my family, but today I will take solace in knowing that you and your sisters forget, too, and so maybe I'm not doomed to that.

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