Get Out

I don’t like blogging. I discussed this with James the other day, and over the course of the conversation, I came to realize it wasn’t the fact that I had nothing worth saying but that I’ve stopped observing as much as I used to.

Back in the day when I had a full-time job, I wrote stories for pleasure. The characters were rich in personality and experiences because I drew a lot of their creation from the people and situations I encountered every day.

Now that I work from home, I rarely go out and I doubt the world wants to hear me go on about the growth and development of my cats. (Except James, who has no choice but to listen. He has to suffer through pictures and anecdotes of the kitten like some people have to smile at a co-worker’s baby pictures.)

I come up with a million excuses not to go out. It’s too hot, and riding the motorcycle in 118 degrees with not a shady lane in sight is not high on my list of things I like to do. I don’t want to spend money, and I can easily get lost for hours in Borders or Best Buy, thinking nothing of dropping a couple of hundred dollars on crap I don’t need. I avoid a lunch date with some ex-co-workers because I’m just not feeling overly sociable.

Any excuse is good.I used to enjoy going to the local Starbucks to sit in the outdoor café and observe people, listening to the conversations going on around me. Now, the only thing that resembles any kind of observation is watching the neighbors out of my office window. There’s the guy who walks his three little blonde daughters to school every morning and walks them home at night. There’s the girl who got a German Shepherd puppy that I watched grow bigger each day. There are my next-door neighbors that have more cars in their yard than people living in the house. There’s the neighbor across the street who has the best-looking lawn on the whole block, nothing at all like the dusty harvest of weeds I call a front yard.Observation and experiencing the world are key to being a good writer. You need experiences to bring your work to life.

In my younger years, I’d do anything for a new experience. In college, I drove carriages around the historical area of

Philadelphia because it wasn’t a run-of-the-mill job. At another point in my life, I did three 100-mile bike rides in one year because it sounded like fun – and that was on a conventional 10-speed bicycle, not the Honda I drive now. I taught myself to shoot a bow and ruined a lot of arrows because my aim is dead-on. I learned how to ride a motorcycle and worked as a professional tarot reader at the New York Renaissance Faire. I did all of these things because they were different and it made people sit up and pay attention. It made me interesting.

I don’t feel quite as interesting anymore. Sad to say, but true. The most exciting thing I have right now is some new bedroom furniture and a Roomba vacuuming robot that automatically sweeps my floors at the push of a button. I do have to get out more. Sure, I have a lot of experiences to draw from for creativity, but it’s a well that should never get full. The water may get stagnant if you’re not careful.

Working at home does have certain advantages, but socializing isn’t one of them – unless you happen to be James.Actually, maybe I shouldn’t complain. At least I don’t have to put up a “Do not disturb” sign on my front door.