For someone not writing, you are writing as compellingly as ever, Abigail. Six days ago you published that beautiful piece about your beloved dog, Dave. And today, this.
This is beautiful writing about not writing. Does that count? To me as your reader, it does. I often tell students who are stuck to write about the stuckness. Often leads to something with unexpected momentum.
I am a professional whiner, especially when stuck. There's a reason every person born on the planet is born knowing how to whine. It makes you feel better, and gets what's in the way, out of the way. Thank you.
I mean, Abigail! I feel like you have been writing, because I certainly have been reading. And yes, I get that maybe you're thinking "writing for a book" writing, not Substack writing, but it's all writing however you look at it. So, (Go ahead, I'll be dead anyway) sounds like a perfect first line! And I know how much you adore first lines! If not, it could easily be a brilliant working title. The curious part of you is in transition, like summer to fall. Enjoy the respite!
Yes, those lovely tree frogs in the evenings. I love this time of year. Sunsets are vivid, crepe myrtles are lush and while poplars are already shedding in our woods, as they are the first to bud, I am not disappointed. Summer is overrated!
Oh Abby, it's good to see you taking your own advice and writing about not writing. And it still counts! It's still writing--especially when you do it! xoxo
"Where is the curious part of me? The part that is my own best company?" Yes, sometimes it's like that. But of course you already know that being curious about the whereabouts of your curious part is you being curious.... Always love to read your thoughts--whining, sob story, or anything at all.
I guess we all have a different understanding of the writing experience. This felt sad. I had a pretty big frog "glued" to my door the other night. I wish I could upload the image. You could see through him. Amazing.
You are writing, just not with a storyline you can see yet. And as always, what you write hits the heart of life amidst the losses we all live with. Thank you for continuing to express your reality.
I understand. You can only write what works for you, and if that doesn't, perhaps another storyline will come to you. Whatever you write is a gift to us all!
Your writing has delighted us for years. I think a break to refuel is not unprecedented. I wonder if you would write from Chuck’s perspective on this two week dilemma? You knew him very well so just maybe….😘
My sister and I once filled a.washtub with tree frogs and covered it with a screen.
Then the time we caught
17 box turtles we collected in our chicken coop. Pretty sure my mother let all our creatures go.
I have put words in is mouth in two pieces. I know exactly what he would say. But I can't do a lot more of it. Thank you. 17 box turtles! and Tree frogs!!
Are you sure you aren't writing? I've seen a lot of writing the last couple of months...
Next question: Are you experimenting with AI images? We may need to have a conversation about that! Love you, Abby. xoxo
Thank you, Nan. All the writing I've put on substack is from the not-a-book. Only this was new. AI images? Oh no!
Yeah, maybe AI!
For someone not writing, you are writing as compellingly as ever, Abigail. Six days ago you published that beautiful piece about your beloved dog, Dave. And today, this.
Thank you, Wendy. Oh, Dave. Thank you.
And we love you whether you are writing or not writing or writing about not writing.
I love what you said. Thank you, Debra.
This is beautiful writing about not writing. Does that count? To me as your reader, it does. I often tell students who are stuck to write about the stuckness. Often leads to something with unexpected momentum.
It always does, yes. Thank you. And whining helps.
Brilliant whining.
I am a professional whiner, especially when stuck. There's a reason every person born on the planet is born knowing how to whine. It makes you feel better, and gets what's in the way, out of the way. Thank you.
This isn’t typing, this is writing. The kind that gets under your skin.
Thank you, Rona. What a lovely thing to say.
I mean, Abigail! I feel like you have been writing, because I certainly have been reading. And yes, I get that maybe you're thinking "writing for a book" writing, not Substack writing, but it's all writing however you look at it. So, (Go ahead, I'll be dead anyway) sounds like a perfect first line! And I know how much you adore first lines! If not, it could easily be a brilliant working title. The curious part of you is in transition, like summer to fall. Enjoy the respite!
Yes, those lovely tree frogs in the evenings. I love this time of year. Sunsets are vivid, crepe myrtles are lush and while poplars are already shedding in our woods, as they are the first to bud, I am not disappointed. Summer is overrated!
Please be kind to yourself, Abigail. Offer yourself the kindness you so generously offer to others.
Thank you, Katherine. Doing better.
Spirit is still writing within you. It is spun gold.
Thank you. It took a while, but I'm done whining. What a nice thing you said.
I envision the tree frogs singing your own song back to you until your heart remembers and picks up the rhythm. 🐸
Lovely, thank you, Tricia.
Oh Abby, it's good to see you taking your own advice and writing about not writing. And it still counts! It's still writing--especially when you do it! xoxo
It was about time I took my own advice. My daughter told me to do it.
"Where is the curious part of me? The part that is my own best company?" Yes, sometimes it's like that. But of course you already know that being curious about the whereabouts of your curious part is you being curious.... Always love to read your thoughts--whining, sob story, or anything at all.
Thank you, thank you.
I guess we all have a different understanding of the writing experience. This felt sad. I had a pretty big frog "glued" to my door the other night. I wish I could upload the image. You could see through him. Amazing.
I felt sad. I'm glad that comes through. I would give anything to see that frog. See right through him, oh how delicate!
Loved this……I listen to chipmunks and see the sun fading.
Thank you, Barbara. Me too.
You are writing, just not with a storyline you can see yet. And as always, what you write hits the heart of life amidst the losses we all live with. Thank you for continuing to express your reality.
Thank you. I think I do see a storyline, but it's not something I will write. How sick he was, how sick he got. I can't go there.
I understand. You can only write what works for you, and if that doesn't, perhaps another storyline will come to you. Whatever you write is a gift to us all!
Thank you so much.
Your writing has delighted us for years. I think a break to refuel is not unprecedented. I wonder if you would write from Chuck’s perspective on this two week dilemma? You knew him very well so just maybe….😘
My sister and I once filled a.washtub with tree frogs and covered it with a screen.
Then the time we caught
17 box turtles we collected in our chicken coop. Pretty sure my mother let all our creatures go.
I have put words in is mouth in two pieces. I know exactly what he would say. But I can't do a lot more of it. Thank you. 17 box turtles! and Tree frogs!!