No, “nothing” isn’t the name of today’s fiction piece.
“Nothing” is what I have to share today.
I think I mentioned that I have a lot of old stories on my old computer, and that I hadn’t converted them from AppleWorks to Word.
Well, yesterday I got my old iBook4 down from the attic, and turns out that I had actually converted all of the stories, but hadn’t transferred them to my current computer. (I haven’t converted 189 poems, so that’s next.)
So, I did the transfer and opened them up and read them and… like writers everywhere, decided that what I have previously written is crap. Wooden. No soul. No heart. Not worth sharing. (Tho I did kind of like a story that I wrote about 20 years ago. A story that my writing mentor at the time hated. So, I can’t bear to share that one. At least not yet.)
And, like writers everywhere, staring at a blank page didn’t help either.
Words are running through my head, but I can’t seem to capture them.
I don’t feel well, and bad news I got earlier in the week hasn’t helped. My eyes are burning, and my head is pounding, and my joints and muscles are aching, and I’m feeling the heavy weight of depression. And the pain that comes from being awake all night thanks to insomnia.
But at least I wrote this post, right?