On Writing a Daily Blog

May WC quote Libba Bray?

Oh, lambs. I try to laugh at life. I do. When the cat pooped all over the white bedspread, did I fall apart or make a cat-fur purse as a warning to the other one? No. I did not. I said, “Hahaha! How very Geoffrey Rush in ‘Quills’ of you, Little Squeak. Your protest is noted.” And then I burned the bedding. When the basement flooded and the ShopVac became my best friend, did I curse the rainy skies and crumbling New York City infrastructure? Well, yes. Yes, I did. But I did it with a laugh and a twinkle and online shopping. Because I’m a survivor.

But sometimes, kids? (Sigh.) Sometimes, a girl just needs to eat buttercream frosting right out the can on her front stoop wearing the same pajamas she’s had on for three days straight while shouting, “Whaddayoo looking at? You never seen a serious writer at work before? I’M ON A DEADLINE HERE! MOVE IT ALONG, SPARKY! And your little dog, too.”

Sometimes the words just flow out of your fingers. Sometimes the sputtering frustration boils out in sharp, cogent clauses. Other times, monkeys seize control of your keyboard and produce gibberish. Or, worse still, nothing in the world, nothing in the vast Series of Tubes, inspires the next blog post.

And those are the times when the Well & Good sign goes up, a kind of reassurance to readers and, yes, partly to WC, that a new blog post will come along Real Soon Now.

Well and Good