A Grab Bag of Trinkets, Flotsam, Jetsam, Doo Dads, Dad Doos, Rusty Objects, Found Objects, Attempts at Erudition—and More (but not less)

Part two of a never-ending series

Every writer has a moment when they don’t know what to write. It’s not writer’s block (I don’t technically believe in that). It’s writer’s fatigue. An inexplicable resistance. A lack of a crucial oomph of the brain.

It’s also an opportunity to write in a new form, one that matches the state of your being.

I just returned from a long car trip to my son’s college graduation, and I looked at my list of possible topics for this week’s newsletter, and none of them grabbed me.

So I thought I’d do a part two of a newsletter I published a couple of years ago that was popular, just because of what the headline promised: a grab bag.

Grab bags are fun. As are doo dads. So here’s another version of what I’ll call the doo-dad school of writing.

But what is a doo dad?

It’s a good gift for Father’s Day.

And it’s a marvelous word, isn’t it? It’s got a Beatnik feel. It’s got a feel of ridiculousness, or of something that’s perhaps necessary yet insignificant.

Here’s the dictionary definition: “a gadget or other object whose name the speaker does not know or cannot recall.” It comes from the early 20th century—the beginning of the doo-dad era of human history, you might say—and is of unknown origin.

There should be an annual “Doo Dad Prize” for people who coin a marvelous phrase.

Because the love of words

“Words have halos, patinas, overhangs, echoes.”

—Donald Barthelme

As a frotteur of words, I love this quote, because a word is never a definite thing. A word holds textures and nuances and surprises. It’s erotic, shape-shifting, enticing, and elusive.

I steal “frotteur” from James Salter, who said, “I'm a frotteur, someone who likes to rub words in his hand, to turn them around and feel them, to wonder if that really is the best word possible.”

But good writers know that words fail us

"All writers feel struck by the limitations of language. All serious writers."

—Margaret Atwood

But words are what the soul is made of

“Glimmerings are what the soul is composed of …”

—Christian Wiman

And aren’t glimmerings words? Sparkling but unsteady lights. They hold promise, then disappear. We try to hold onto them, but alas. We’re left with their promises of beauty and meaning, but not posterity.

Because God isn’t a planner

Every once in a while I think of a God who created this wild, fantastic universe, but then the creation got completely out of God’s control, like any good creation.

The universe grew bigger and wilder and more powerful than God itself, so now God exists like we do, trying to fathom it all.

It’s like humans were God’s AI experiment. We’re made in his image, just as we’ve constructed AI, but we have little control over our creation or its desires. We can know it only by knowing ourselves. Perhaps that’s where God is now, figuring out who it is.

Because God needs a doo dad or two

Troubling thing: We never see God laugh in the Bible. We never see God cry.

Because if I’m honest, I write in search of God

“I’ve come to understand that the best one can hope for as a human is to have a relationship with that emptiness where God would be if God were available, but God isn’t.”

—Anne Carson

I think this quote describes a lot of the reason I write: I reside in that emptiness, that mystery, and I’m trying to understand it all and give voice to it.

As Annie Dillard said, “We try to see in the dark, we toss up our questions and they catch in the trees.”

Because … join me in a free Open House!

“I think the hardest part about writing is writing.” —Nora Ephron

I hope to make writing a little bit easier through a weekly accountability write-in I’m hosting with Left Margin Lit.

The goal: to create a supportive space where writers can churn out words, meet their goals and deadlines, and build creative connections with others.

Our sessions occur on Zoom, so you can sign up no matter where you are.

Two ways to support this newsletter!

1. Share with the world!

2. Pay a tiny bit for a subscription!

Because end notes

What I’m reading: Understanding Comics, by Scott McCloud, because I love learning new things about storytelling.

What I’m watching: I just started watching the new Ripley (since I’m a fan of the old Ripley).

What I’m listening to: May I recommend Ola Gjeilo to read or write by?

What I’m photographing: There’s nothing like stopping in an American roadside convenience store. The plentitude. The possibilities. The road like a novel.