Social Disorder Afoot

I have been encouraging my med school husband and his med school cronies to talk about doing research on disorders caused by too much social media.

At work I have been inundated with the stuff. My job as a communications specialists requires me to get my organization’s image out into the public. Social media is the way to do it. That’s where the audience is—especially when you don’t have the budget to buy an ad on Super Bowl Sunday (by the way, Go Chargers!).

So, I have a TweetDeck account, which pulsates on my desktop every minute with updates and alerts. I have a Facebook page to maintain, a YouTube account to manage and an organizational staff to motivate to get on board with the new media and new outreach tools.

The downside of this is my self-diagnosed ADHD brought on by too much input—SMADAH (Social Media Attention Deficit Hyperactivit Disorder). I don’t think my symptoms are rare to social media junkies, either. There are some jitters. And some obsessive compulsive tendencies. There’s the urge to constantly multi-task. And when someone makes a funny comment or tells a strange story, there’s a strong impulse to post it on Facebook.

I feel scatterbrained and on edge. I can’t think coherently. I  need to pull myself away. I need an intervention. I need….to go send out a tweet about that!


No Inspiration Here

I am still looking.

After a failed attempt to retrieve inspiration from my Facebook friends, I have little to report on the writer’s block. I have little, doubt, however, that it stems from an early dose of seasonal affective disorder.

That’s right. It’s November, and I am suffering from S.A.D. There are a long five more months to go before the temperature climbs back to a level at which I am comfortable. It hasn’t even really snowed yet, either.

It’s going to be a long winter.

Maybe I can write about that!

Looking for Inspiration

When I was in 10th grade, my English teacher had the class do a simple exercise: a train-of-thought stream of consciousness consisting of phrases and words that is supposed to allow your brain the freedom to explore the many thoughts and connections running through your mind at a given time. There are no rules, only that you cannot stop writing for a set period of time.

What comes out of this exercise is meant to be the inspiration for something greater.

Since I have clogged my productive and creative parts of my being with this 8-5 job I’ve been holding down, I’ve been struggling for inspiration to continue this blog and other projects I’ve had in the works or nearly finished, so I think I will try that exercise right now, and I will not apologize for anything that happens to come up.

Wait. This isn’t working. I can’t even think of a first word to write.

Oh well. Maybe tomorrow.

I Figure It’s About Time

A month or so hiatus can be restful. Or so they say.

I say, blogging is restful. A chance to clear the cobwebs and the air, and whatever flurry of ideas are running rampant in my brain. But, I have to admit, that since I started working full time, I have been cleared out of ideas. Not so much ideas, actually, but drive.

So this is something I don’t understand about writers. Real writers. Writers who are disciplined and published and continue cranking things out prolifically. How do they keep motivated. I seem to be motivated by guilt. And a sense of a ticking clock.

Last week the Iowa Poet Laureate Mary Swander gave a talk at my workplace. One of the audience members asked her about her process, meaning how does she produce her work. What happens when she sits down to write?

Swander, being a witty off-the-cuff speaker, said she doesn’t have any obsessive compulsive traits or routines she does before she begins writing, like sharpening her pencil on a manual sharpener 18 times. She just squeezes it in.

I often imagine myself locked away in some remote cabin for a month or two to crank out an idea I have for a story or novel or essay or something. Just to get it out. Isolation. But I’m sure I’d get distracted and find some way to procrastinate and not get it done. Does this make me not a serious writer. I’d say so. But who knows?

If someone were to take a poll of writers to talk about what motivates them to sit down and write, I wonder what would be the consensus?

I have a pile of ideas I’d like to churn out. But who, really, has the time? Might as well let them fester.

Women on Writing Women

This article spun out of a series of Tweets from Susan Orlean. It’s a great view into the life of a writing mother:

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