Today the U.S. celebrates Labor Day as a National holiday.
In light of that I couldn’t help but suggest that if you have the day off, and if you are so inclined, copy the activity of the main character of this short clip.
Then after watching, think of ways this activity is a metaphor for the writing life. For life in general. Or tell us a 100 word short story about what you saw.
Mocha with Linda
Goodness! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything work so hard at rolling down a hill! LOL
A perfect representation of a writer’s life: expend a lot of energy to get things rolling, then hit an obstacle that either slows or halts our progress. Rest for a while (not too long or we might begin to think it’s easier to just lie there), then you’re ready to go again. Sometimes it’s difficult and takes a lot of energy and determintation to get back on our feet, but a true writer never gives up. And, we must remember, there are people out there watching.
My thought is: Even the journeys that seem simple can be fraught with difficulties, but it is the wise bear (ahem, person) who enjoys himself along the way. (And as a side benefit, keeps a large group of unsuspecting people occupied while his bear buddy raids all their lunches?).
Linda Riggs Mayfield
Nancy covered it beautifully, with the exception of one point: that bear was always going downhill. When we say “it’s all downhill from here,” some folks mean things are only going to get worse, while some mean that from now on, gravity will help and the work won’t be so hard. Which of those interpretations is most applicable seems to change from day to day for a writer, but I think that bear thought going downhill was nothing but fun.
Sandy Faye Mauck
Obviously the poor guy has a sticker in his foot and was on the downhill slide. Why is it you can’t get anywhere with out editing that thing out?
Okay, it’s 67 words over… but I’ve got to get going so here it is, as is, inspired by the bear!
Not exactly her favorite activity, scrubbing the kitchen floor. After sweeping and dry-swiffering any broom-escaping hairs, she splashed a bucket of soapy water across it with a single swoosh-and-splat. And then, instead of taking the mop in hand, she pondered the nearby laundry basket. A pair of socks drooped invitingly over the edge. She plucked them out, slipped them on, and eased onto the slippery floor in one ice capades entrance. Music! She needed music! Boldly belting out “Someday my prince will come!” she skated and balleted her way back and forth, not noticing her audience of one. On the front walkway, a young man stood watching with an expression of amusement and admiration. Laden down with the pool-cleaning equipment, he was seeing the woman he had always hoped existed somewhere. Someone silly and sexy and singing, free and funny, promising a life like that with whoever was lucky enough to walk up to her door and get her phone number on the pool service contract renewal.
What I got from the video was that the bear enjoyed what he was doing. On the small inclines and flat places, he paused then wiggled his way past them and rolled some more. But he enjoyed the rolling so much that he got past those inclines (criticisms/rejections) and the flat places (burn-out) to get back to what he really enjoyed.
The same with writers. We need to learn from then wiggle past the rejections, overcome the feelings of burn-out. Then we can get back to what we really enjoy.
Play! Enjoy that journey. Even if it’s all by yourself. And when you get stuck (or the fat gets in the way)–roll about bit-by-bit and soon you’ll be on your way again.