How I Screwed Up Writing Every Day

And the Story Still Isn’t Finished

Licensed from 123RF; copyright, illu

Write every day. That’s my goal. I love to write. I work in my home office every day. I rarely go out thanks to COVID. What could possibly go wrong?

Unfortunately, I also Love Research

Sure, I could look out my office window. I would probably see a squirrel romping around in the leaves. Then I could write a couple paragraphs about my love of nature, of squirrels, and how this brings me to nirvana. I could end with a sentence encouraging my readers to delight in the wonders of the autumn season.

Sadly there’s a lot of this meaningless rubbish out there. (Stop being judgmental, MaryJo. It’s a bad habit of yours.)

Ok, no squirrels in leaves. How about your favorite subject: Johann Sebastian Bach? After all the Bach chapter is one of two stories not in your yet-to-be-editing forthcoming book. At the moment, it’s only a chapter heading in Oh Look . . . There’s a Squirrel.

Bach! Go for it!

Think it through carefully. What would readers find interesting? Maybe a discussion of the almost 200 cantatas Bach wrote following the liturgical calendar? Surely you’re kidding? Even you, a Bach fan, think that sounds boring.

How about your personal experience with Bach? Oops, you’ve already written about playing Bach on the piano, a near-death experience. And you’ve written about how you almost fell off the risers singing Bach’s Mass in B Minor.

You could tell the fascinating story of the history of the famous Haussmann portrait of Bach. Not a good idea. One time when you tried to tell that story, the guy you were telling it to walked away before you’d finished the tale. And your son responded, “Mom, you know the weirdest stuff.”

You could write a review of Philip Kennicott’s Counterpoint: A Memoir of Bach and Mourning, which you just finished. Bad idea. You don’t have a single friend or family member to whom you’d recommend this book even though you loved it.

You get another cup of coffee. You look out the window to check for frolicking squirrels.

Eureka! It comes to you.