Since we returned from our trip earlier than originally planned, I can attend our Writers’ Club meeting today, an informal pot luck affair and read-around. I’m told attendance will be very light, which pleases me in that I have very little luck to put in the pot for lunch. Today, it will be store-bough hummus and multi-seed hard crackers.
I’ve not written a great deal lately, at least not much worth sharing, so I selected a non-fiction stream-of-consciousness piece I wrote early this month for my reading. Reading aloud, even to a small group, will be good practice for my Wednesday Night Poetry reading next week, when I’m the Feature Poet. It’s a little odd that I am on my third night as Feature Poet, in that I am not even remotely prolific at writing poetry. But I do write it and I enjoy both writing and reading/performing it. My challenge for next week is to find some lighter poems to read. Most of my poems emerge from my dark recesses, of which there are plenty. There’s not much light down there, especially of late.
My reading for today is a flippant piece that outlines, and argues for, my plan to travel the country, marketing one-off road-food from a food truck or some such thing. If nothing else, the tiny audience will get a look under the hood of a strange and skeptical (and moderately creative) man.
I’ve been trying, since I arose this morning, to write something of consequence. There’s simply nothing there. Perhaps milestones block my creative path. I’ll lay the blame there, regardless.