Sometimes, our words run out. We wish to say more, but we have no words left. This doesn’t mean that there are no words, simply that we cannot voice them in that particular moment. But with a bit of persistence, and the appropriate intent, the words can eventually be found.
Some weeks, the content for the Scribbleton Post pours out of my head and into my fingertips, click, click, click and away I type on the keyboard. The words appear on the screen and they spell out a clear and coherent story. There is minimal need for further edits. The post is scheduled and goes out on Sunday, and I get to relax for about five days, until it’s time to write the next Scribbleton Post (previously ‘Mountains of Tasmania’).
Other weeks, the words that appear are in total disarray. They are jumbled up, multiple ideas entwined, entrenched, inseparable. It’s a bit like untangling the Gordian Knot. The only way to do it is to cut through it. This is when I scrap the post and start again. Thankfully, this doesn’t happen very often.
Regardless of what kind of a week it is, there is only one rule I have given myself.
And the rule is, The Scribbleton Post goes out every Sunday morning. That is my commitment to you, my dear readers, and to myself as a writer. Even if this means that The Post is a bit scraggly from time to time. It’s better if it goes out a bit scraggly than if it doesn’t go out at all.
Earlier this year, when we were away on a bike tour with Patty K. and I had no access to my computer for four weeks, I scheduled the Post six weeks ahead and I asked a friendly bot to send the post out for me. It wasn’t me. I was bike touring! But the Post still went out.
Bon Apetit, to this week’s photographs, taken on the Pentax MX, on our trip to the Central Plateau in August 2020 with my good friend, Patty K.
-A.S. Lenah Valley, 6/8/22
