Sometimes you need to  un-focus in order to focus.

Sometimes you need to un-focus in order to focus.

At times, my writing focus is about as clear as swamp water.

Sometimes I inadvertently go on a writing sabbatical. Things get in the way. When the “match” goes out, it’s like getting a D.C. politician to tell the truth challenging to restart the flame. For example, recently:

There I sat.

Alone in my office.


Staring some more.

Searching for ideas.

Here’s what I came up with the first few hours

  • My computer screen is dirty.
  • Gravity is, at this very moment, tugging my face toward my knees.
  • Jazz, one of my two Standard poodles, will someday have lockjaw.
  • My jaw is killing me

    Why wasn’t I a twin?

  • What is the life cycle of a corn cob?

To put it mildly, a snaggley wad of barbed wire was more inspirational than anything I could conjure.

FOCUS! I commanded myself. But I couldn’t. So I rose from my desk and walked outside. I stared into tree branches, watched two screaming young children throw a temper tantrum, listened to cars on a busy road, and looked into the faces of everyone I passed.

I lounged in front of the TV like a lazy Queen of Slob. I went to the movies. I sighed. I made nachos. I cried. I laughed. This went on for about a week.

eyeglasses in the hand over blurred tree backgroundWhat happened after that?

Blogs happened. Multiple chapters in my current Work in Progress (novel) happened.

It proved what I already knew: sometimes we must “un-focus” in order to focus.

When water doesn’t flow, maybe the creek is dry. Go fill it up.

Know what I mean?



Just for fun . . .


This Big Country isn't big enough for unauthorized media borrowers.

This Big Country isn’t big enough for unauthorized media borrowers.






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