November 17: Too Much in My Head, Essay, "Web" Dip

I'm still struggling with my Christmas essay.  I know what my problem is:  I'm over-thinking everything.  I'm trying to throw everything AND the kitchen sink into it.  Irving Berlin.  Bing Crosby.  Marcel Proust.  Merriam-Webster.  Baked ham.  Death.  World War II.  It's just a mess.

When I get too much in my head, I can't write.  I have about five or six pages of false starts and mind vomit in my journal.  I keep waiting for that moment when I know I've finally found my voice.  It feels like I'm almost there.  Like a breakthrough is within my grasp. 

Which brings me to a little announcement:  until I've finished my Christmas essay, I'm only going to be posting once a day.  The Poet of the Week will return next Monday.  Stick with me guys.  I have to concentrate on another writing project for a little while.  I will be back in full Saint Marty mode in seven days.

My Web dip question this evening is pretty simple:

Am I going to be able to finish my Christmas essay by next Monday?

And the answer from E. B. White:

"It is true," said the old sheep.  "Go to the Fair, Templeton.  You will find that the conditions at a fair will surpass your wildest dreams.  Buckets with sour mast sticking to them, tin cans containing particles of tuna fish, greasy paper bags stuffed with rotten..."

So, whatever I write is going to surpass my wildest dreams.  I like that answer.

Saint Marty's ready to dream big.

Looking for my breakthrough

 

June 4: Ballet and All, Short Post, Short Prayer Tuesday

"She's a dancer," I said.  "Ballet and all.  She used to practice about two hours every day, right in the middle of the hottest weather and all.  She was worried that it might make her legs lousy--all thick and all.  I used to play checkers with her all the time."

Holden is, of course, speaking about Jane Gallagher, the girl he loves, and I'm, of course, going to write about my daughter, who has a dance recital this week.

I'm sorry this post is coming so late in the day.  I've been working on another writing project, and it took up most of my hours.  It's an essay for a local writing contest, and it's due by Friday.  My goal is to have it completed and in the mail by tomorrow night.  That's my goal.  I'm not sure if I will meet that goal.

Any who, today is Prayer Tuesday, or whatever I call it.  I'm too tired to double check on its official title tonight.  Aside from that pesky essay I'm working on, my other prayer concern this week is my daughter and her dance recital, hence the reference to Jane and ballet at the top of this post,  Recital week is always crazy busy, full of anxiety and worry.  It can't be helped.  By the way, most of the anxiety and worry comes from me, not from my daughter.

Dear God,

Help me to stay calm this week.  Don't let me get stressed about my daughter's recital and dance.  Give my daughter strength and confidence this week.  Let her perform well, and let her know Your grace and love.

She really is full of Your grace when she dances.  At least, for me she is.  And I want to thank You for letting me be her father.  She is one of the greatest gifts You have ever given me.

So, please, watch over her this week.  Guide her.  Uphold her.  Let her fly this weekend on stage.

Your faithful child,

Saint Marty

P.S.  A little help with this essay would be appreciated, too, if You have the time.

I'm gonna cry this weekend.  You know it.