Lumpy Gravy, thoughts on writing Well

I’m working on the rewrite of a chapter in a new book and in spite of hours of effort, when I pause to listen to what I’ve written, it sounds like lumpy gravy.

Yes, I realize that gravy doesn’t talk, sing, or make any other noise, but it still seems the perfect metaphor for my imperfect words. In case you’re not familiar with gravy and, in particular, lumpy gravy, a brief description-

Gravy is a sauce made from cooked meat juices, stock, and other ingredients. One ingredient is flour, which is used to thicken the sauce. When the flour is added incorrectly, the result is lumpy gravy, little balls of unmixed flour in the sauce, a culinary no-no. Like good writing, I believe creating good gravy, a sumptuously smooth sauce, is a combination of rigorous practicality and delicate art.

My own experience is that lumpy gravy usually results from hurrying, compromising time and care because of impatience, setting an unrealistic timeline for creating something that simply cannot be rushed. There is a proper order and way to add and mix ingredients. don’t do this and you get lumps.

what are the lumps in my writing? Words and phrases that don’t sound right, feel out of place, don’t fit the desired style, don’t truly support the theme. Adverbs and adjectives that were easy to insert but, upon reflection, don’t add anything. 

What I write seldom comes out smooth and lump free the first time. Admittedly, I rarely succeed at creating lump free gravy either. In cooking, there are two ways to fix this, stir or whisk much more, or, something few will admit to, strain the gravy through a sieve to remove the lumps. 

This is what rewriting is all about, the writer’s process of removing the lumps from his work through careful consideration, in my case, listening as I can’t see what I’ve written. Often I brainstorm words, sentences, even paragraphs. with the magic power of today’s word processing technology and my text reader friend, Alex voiceOver, I can quickly try and listen to many options, until I hear something that is smooth and feels right. And on I move to the next paragraph.

Ultimately, I’m the cook in my word kitchen and I know, that unless what I’ve written passes my taste test, unless I’ve taken the time, done the work, to make perfect, lump free, gravy, those words can’t leave the kitchen.

tio stib

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Excuses

damn sick, you know, that awful flu
slipped and fell on doggy do
triple booked, what could I do
have you met the new guy, Lew
slipped out to sip a little brew
Giants lost, the Seahawks too
burned the Sunday evening stew
blame it on my low I.Q.
what’s with all the ballyhoo
just what did I promise you

really

what else is new

tio stib
2017, 2018

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Insomnia

there are moments when
I dream in peace
a mind released to roam
then others when
the clock grinds on
and night becomes a tomb

I lay now in eternal night
awaiting mindless deep
a craving need to somehow get
a decent hour’s sleep

tio stib
2015, 2018

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In Nature I am Home

I’ve Never Felt alone

on countless journeys
off the maps
on trips of whim and circumstance
without a friend and miles from men

I’ve never felt alone

on stormy nights 
and raucous seas
rivers wild and mountains free
near howling wolves
and singing stars

I’ve never felt alone

sitting by a sparking fire
aspens whispering in the breeze
morning mist outside the tent
no footprints
whichever way I went

I’ve never felt alone

there is a peace in wilderness
where souls can breathe in openness
midst meadow flowers and humming bees
the stillness of majestic trees
clouds that melt in azure skies
watchful eyes as I pass by
a world where love embraces me
a love beyond what words can be

when I’m torn by fear and loss
when smallness grabs my soul
the memories of my wilderness
comfort my heart

sometimes I’ve wondered 
how this might be
to wander lone and absently
with no need for humanity

one thought keeps coming
back to me

in nature, I am home

tio stib

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the wind was I

sunshine blessed rose scented air
butterflies fluttered without care
the summer breeze swept silent by

I smiled and thought
the wind was I
faces laughed and babies cried
old ones watched as time flew by
and through it all 
the nameless wind 
blew on 
eternal
without end

past mountains tall
past oceans wide
past deserts dry and last goodbyes
unseen
unknown
the wind saw all
from Spring time bliss
to lonely Fall

as sun falls towards the silent ground
as the breath of being slows down
the wind of life
once strong and free
begins to ebb away from me

and with the evening’s final sigh
I feel the wind of life pass by
and know once more

the wind was I

tio stib
2016, 2018

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The Memory of a Single Rose

has love been worth
the silly fears of youthful years
the agony and sobbing tears
rejections, dejections, emotions tossed
plans and hopes and dreams now lost

has love been worth the unmet wants
the emptiness of sensual haunts
the births, the deaths
the final breaths
the agony of cried regrets

all this for a glimpse of bliss
the rapture of a secret kiss
a sudden smile
a soft caress
the eternity of souls confessed

and so I ask a broken heart
as time tugs our love apart
was it worth the cost
the moment’s flame?

ah, yes
sighs the sent
the sight
the memory 
of a single rose

again

20100531 Roses from Laura 002

tio stib

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Why I Like Being Blind

No, in truth, I seldom like being blind. However, there are moments when I recognize that blindness has some benefits. Here are my top ten reasons to like being blind-

  1. When I get up in the morning, I can’t see how old I’m getting in the mirror.
  2. It’s nice being personally guided through airport security and other checkpoints, avoiding long lines of annoyed travelers.
  3. I don’t have to pretend I’m ignoring people I don’t like. I really can’t see them.
  4. I don’t need to shave every morning, or for that matter, worry about wearing matching socks. Yes, I admit age has something to do with this disregard for fashion.
  5. I can now unabashedly ask for help, paying no attention to my previous suffocating shyness. I need all the help I can get.
  6. I’m no longer asked to help people move. My history of breaking other people’s valuable objects has nothing to do with this.
  7. I now have an excuse for talking to myself. I’m talking to my computer.
  8. I now have a socially acceptable excuse for eating with my fingers. It’s the most effective way to get food into my mouth.
  9. I now have a more acceptable reason than being drunk for tripping over curbs. Yes, likely I’ve been drinking, but now I’m blind drunk. .
  10. 10. When late for appointments, it’s now much easier to say “Sorry, got lost.”

I’m always seeking more reasons to be happy with blindness, please add yours as a “Comment” below.

tio stib

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