Writers' bog

...While I fidgeted with the possiblities of the title for this post, having to choose between writer's block, writers' blog or something else as original as those two, a slip occured, and I think a writers' bog is what it is going to be about.

Some interesting stuff in line of pepping up creativity -
100 words per day from many 'writers' may be a tiresome read, but it might definitely be a good habit-establishing exercise, in agreement with Tolstoy's (?) remark - not a single day without a line.

Another interesting idea -suggested byand is based on the hackneyed image (at least among my favorite images) of a writer smudging a napking at a bar with uneven hardly distinguishable lines, in fear of losing that volatile thought, the one that, - if correctly nurtured, - might grow into a poem, a story or even a novel... I still got a couple of such napkins/coasters myself, with some juvenile poems or half-thoughts, which, clumsy as they are, still nudge me to decipher the doodles and mayby turn them into a story.

The project is called
Several contemporary authors were asked to fill a napkin with their off-hand streams of consciousness. You can see the actual writing which, - if saved and printed, - may serve as an invaluable autograph of a future prise-winning author.

Warning - rough language/images around some of the beads of letters threaded upon the lines of unleashed preternaturally twisted fantasies.

phhh - i guess I did my 100 for today : ))

PS - And for the dessert - another grotesque Jack-Londonish ~ Hemingwayish masterpiece from Woot! - thanks to Nat!

Sometimes I really miss Dad. I’ll never forget this one time when I was six years old. I was watching Dad work in the backyard, wishing I could be big and strong and in control the way he always was. He noticed me there and called me over. With a twinkle in his eye and a hand on my shoulder, Dad told me, “Son, there are only two things that people really want in life: sex and money.” Then he went back to stashing his counterfeit money under the false floor in the toolshed.

I know if Dad was still around, he’d add HDTV to the list. I only wish he’d had the chance to see the Vizio VX20L 20” LCD HDTV’s super-sharp, lifelike 720p resolution. Its 20”, 16:9 screen and ultra-slim form factor would have fit easily into the fallout shelter he built us for Christmas. He always was the handyman type – I wonder what novel uses he’d have found for the HDMI connector and the PC input. Oh, how he would have loved to watch his Israeli Special Forces training videos on this valuable, sexy HDTV.

But no. Dad is gone, and I accept that now. I’ve learned that sometimes in life, the people we love have to flee to Colombia under an assumed name and shack up with a prostitute. That’s just the way things go. It’s nothing personal. Whatever he’s up to now, I’m sure he’s got more important things to do than contact his family. But still, sometimes I wish I could see him again just for a few minutes, to tell him face-to-face what a crazy bastard he is.

Original here.