Argh-ness multiplied.

Okay. So I am finding out things about writing a series of redwood posts on a topic of epic proportions: TIME (for pity's sake).

Time is one topic that has had a bazillion words written about it already since it's one of our best human thought constructs and the most complex.

So far I've been through seven (or is it nine?) complete post rewrites and pounded my head against the walls and the desk and so on, thrown books down the hall and growled a lot at the wandering geckos on the ceiling. (I'm here to tell you those actions do not help.)

I confess that River 5, the final post of my series about Time, has gone through a number of ultimately mortifying transformations.

I played with assorted "voices", tried assorted rhythms, tried going high-brow and low-brow and so on.

How about serious, portentous and banal?

What about high-flying, rainbow-eating unicorn food?

I could do gravitas -- i.e., hackneyed whatevers delivered in highbrow, arrogant tones.

I could do gruff and rough and Navy Seal strong.

I could.... I'm sure you've gotten the idea. STILL not happening! (Sigh!)

In the meantime, I have been writing my little IPS (Inner Peace Symptom) squibs and experimenting with assorted other forms of blathering, working through all kinds of finger exercises and slogging along on the Medium writing platform.

(Of course, I've also been keeping soul and body together and all the other mundaneness, as needed.)

It's all good, actually. It's all just part of the process of getting to excellent.

I came up with a cool analogy as a blueprint for writing different kinds and flavors of blog posts and stories when I was responding to a story by one of the other writers on the Medium platform. (It's a custom to react to other people's thoughts on that platform as well.)

Here's what I said:

I just wrote a note to myself in my journal likening writing lengths and styles to cooking up different ways of concocting snackery and meals.

Short-form (anything less than a 3-minute read) is like doing a dish to add to the yum cha assortment, the chacuterie board, or the groaning pupu table. They are short and mostly they can be bursts of intriguing flavors. They should NOT be boring!

Medium form (like around 4 to 8 minutes long) are ordinary, everyday sorts of meals with useful info presented well enough for common usage. They might be street food or food from a favored food truck. They can also be like a show-off potluck dish you want to share with your neighbors. They should NOT be boring.

Long form -- serious informative articles and explorations and books of assorted types -- should be feasts. They really do need to be held to a higher standard. They should be stuffed with fulfilled promises AND they should NOT be boring!

It's really hard to construct a feast if you're doing a pupu dish, sez I. One sparkler does not make a whole New Year fireworks display.

And that's my report for this month.

Hope your holidays are going well and you're taking a lot of breaths between all your crazy runnin'. Hugs to all!

-- Netta