Thursday, January 19, 2012

What to Write on an Empty-Screen Morning


I can vividly remember the wads of crumpled-up notebook paper on the floor next to my classroom desk in Mrs. Weaver's, Mr. Drinkwater's, Mrs. Sodorff's or Mrs Parker's classes.  
The English teacher had given a writing assignment, usually no set topic, always 300 words, must be in blue or black ink, turned in at the end of the hour.
Stress-induced gasps or sighs of frustration occasionally broke the silence for the next 50 or so minutes as adolescent brains tried to muster up something . . . anything reasonably intelligent on their paper. 
Sometimes the occasional human sounds were accompanied by whisper-like thuds of  paper wads hitting the floor. 
I sit here this morning, no longer with an empty screen, but still wondering where I'm going with today's topic.  
Will there even be a topic introduced, supported and concluded by the end of my class--er--blog period?
Thank goodness for computers.  We don't have to throw things when we can't think of things to say.  We simply hit the delete button.
Sometimes the things we have to say deal with topics we'd rather delete all together, but then sometimes a little light in our brain clicks on and we start hitting those keys like gang busters. 
I don't miss those blue or black Bic pens when I write.  
After all, I'm left-handed, and when you're left-handed, you go with the flow---of ink, that is.  I can remember many dirty, ink-smeared palms after finishing my 300-word themes. 
I also don't miss the time spent wadding up those substandard thoughts, words and sentences and throwing them to the floor next to me.
Somehow I made it through every assignment.  In Mrs. Parker's class I could always find some angle about my cow Millie.  Mrs. Parker loved the Millie stories.
I don't recall a single instance in my academic writing experiences where I had to take my paper----with blue or black ink, one side only,  spaces between paragraphs, clear margins and single-line cross-outs to the teacher----wondering if I'd still receive a passing grade if it wasn't quite finished.
I guess I never really needed that "kiss of the Blarney Stone" smacked last March in Ireland  to conjure up the gift of gab.
What appeared on the paper may have been substandard in the teacher's view, but, at least, I always felt relief of getting through yet another assignment with an introduction, body and conclusion.  Oh yes, don't forget the transitions.
In retrospect (transition), my computer screen felt a bit empty this morning as did my head.  So, I resorted to the age-old guideline of just going with the flow.  Winging it, so to speak. 
The words eventually flowed on this cold winter day, but thank God, not the ink. 
And, the floor beneath my chair is not littered with piles of discarded notebook paper  paper piles. 
One more writing assignment finished, and I still have minutes to go.

Happy Thursday.  Stay safe.  Stay warm.  And, please don't issue me a grade!  :)

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I had all the same teachers. What a blast from the past.
Judy H.

Word Tosser said...

Some days, I just want to draw a big square and write.. empty.. in the middle of it..