Here you will find the fodder from my brain as I struggle to write words that matter.
Hi, I’m Amanda. I’m a stay-at-home mother to six kids, four of whom I homeschool. Writing makes me feel more like myself, so I do it even when I don’t want to. You can find the styled and themed pieces over on the Blog. These words here are less refined and are both for fun and for sanity.
December 28, 2021
My brain doesn’t want to work this morning. I haven’t wanted to get up and write. I’ve wanted to stay in my snuggly bed with its cozy flannel sheets. This morning, Truffles hopped up on the bed and laid right next to me, making me even warmer. Getting out of bed felt like it would be a crime. How could I when the sweet dog just wanted to snuggle? And now, here I am, sitting in front of this computer, and my mind is blank. I don’t know what I was planning to write about, and I can’t seem to access that section of my mind. Did I mention it’s raining? I mean, it’s a perfect storm—cold, flannel sheets, warm dog, and rain. This must be God’s way of telling me it’s okay not to get up and write, right?
Oh, and there’s whipped cream in the fridge. I put some in my coffee, because it’s a special occasion having whipped cream in the fridge. Now all I can think about is getting another cup of coffee and another swirl of whipped cream from the can.
I slept well, but why do I feel so tired? Why does the light hurt my eyes? Why would I rather do my new 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle than write? Writing is hard. Puzzles make sense. I don’t have to use words to do a puzzle. There’s no pressure to be world-changing when you do a puzzle. If someone really liked your puzzle, they might glue it and frame it. If not, you’d just finish it, stare at it, and then take it apart and put it back in the box until next Christmas break. No pressure.
I wrote a book. I feel like I should add “sort of” to that statement, because it doesn’t feel like I wrote a book even though I did. It happened little by little, and it wasn’t so hard. Why does it feel so monstrously hard now? Brian Buffini would say I’m afraid of success. He’d also say I must not really want it because I’m finding excuses not to write. He’s probably not wrong. I think choosing to write short form day after day was easier than a long form book. The ideas feel too big and I feel too small to cover them well. I’m beginning to have my doubts. Maybe I’m better at short-form. Maybe I should consider that as a better option. The last time I tried to write long form (a similar book idea to what I’m working on now, just more broad), the exact same thing happened. I ran out of rail. I got into the second chapter and froze. It’s happening again. I’m frozen.
Instead of trying to force my way into that second chapter, I decided to “brain dump” as they call it. It’s terrible phrasing, if you ask me. That’s what you have the pleasure of reading now. Yay for you. I’m sorry, I know it’s awful. And honestly, I can’t resist that second cup of coffee, so I’m just going to end this pile of brain dump right here, and say thank you for wasting your minutes on what I hope will be fodder for social media or a new tab on my website called “Dear Reader.”
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.