Why do I have to be THAT kind of writer?

I am the sunny optimist. I complain that literature has to be sad. I get into great debates with literature teachers about the reason WHY great literature has to be so sad.

I think I finally understand. I don't write when I'm happy or content. When I'm happy, giggly, goofy or silly, it's hard for me to write. I want to be enjoying the moment, not clacking away at my keyboard and my loved ones want me to be enjoying the moment with them, not clacking away at the keyboard.

The other downside to writing in that mood is that unless the occasion is momentous, happy giggly goofy silly writing is, well, boring.

Now I understand. Pain makes me write. When I'm tired of crying, or when I cannot yet cry, writing forces the emotions out. It lets me see them, lets me tell others what I mean in a way I generally cannot with my voice.

Now that I know it, one thing concerns me. Does this mean I have to start being miserable?

Writer's Mountain

There will be no blog post this morning because the only thing I can think about to write is my inability to write. Annoyingly unoriginal.

Look for a list of things making me happy soon.

Amazon.com Bites and The Worst Writer's Block. Ever.

My copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which I dutifully preordered June 12 did not arrive today. I was dubious about ordering it this way in the first place, seeing how Manda and I skipped all the hub-bub of the last release and STILL had a copy in our grubby paws by 12:05AM (24hour grocery stores sell books, at a discount even!). Still, well-meaning coworkers and peer pressure got to me and I caved; I preordered.

Manda didn't. Instead, she dragged me to King Soopers at 11:30 for HER copy. I ended up there anyway; I should have just purchased the dag nab thing that way. I should have run to Sam's or Costco this morning and gotten it for $17.99 (and NO SHIPPING!). But nooooooo.. I have to be all '21st Century', Internet savvy, seduced by one coworkers' story that she actually received her copy of HP:ATHBP a whole day early.

Manda's on Chapter 11 and periodically gasps or laughs. It's torture.

I sent a very uncharacteristically un-world-peace-good-karma-pay-it-forward email to Amazon at exactly 7:15 pointing out that their delivery guarantee was as valuable as Confederate money.

It's a good thing my Pat did such a great job on my hair; otherwise the day might be a total loss.

As for the Writer's Block: my grandfather has asked me to speak at Alex's rehearsal dinner. It's something of a tradition for my father's side of the family to have a little speech, poem or song prepared for very special occasions. Sometimes my grandparents spent weeks getting it ready, sometimes they made the thing up in the middle of the event.

I spoke at my grandmother's wake and most of my family read my blog at least occasionally. I guess it's kind of a passing of the torch that Pop-pop has asked me to do it for Alex. Needless to say, I'm incredibly honored and touched. I'm incredibly proud of Alex and couldn't be more happy for him. Combine that with a history of saying exactly the very most WRONG thing at the worst possible times and.......

Forget Writer's Block. It's Writer's Mountain.