Even Grandmas Get Writers' Block

“If I waited for perfection, I would never write a word. “  --  Margaret Atwood

It’s raining and I’ve already walked Ferris in his adorable yellow slicker.  Made the best cup of coffee – yum.  Fussed in the kitchen a bit.  Texted a couple of friends about really important things (NOT).  And now here I am, peeking over the top of this invisible obstruction called Writers’ Block.   Yes, even Grandmas get writers’ block.

My blogging coach  (this new job title entered my awareness in 2014) made me agree to post each and every week – and I started out very compliant. My postings went to FaceBook and I was pretty pleased.  My children and grandchildren and close friends said “FINALLY!” 

Then, what happened?! 

I’m still in love with my grandchildren, their sunny songs and the idea (read that IDEA) of sharing my enthusiasm with other Grandparents to sing with their little ones and enjoy their music. I still desire to get “Nana’s Greatest Hits” into a form where they can be enjoyed by more than my dear familiars.   I’ve been working with my music maven, Melissa Phillippe, and have two songs to share with you and I DO really love them.  So, why have I put them “under a bushel”?

My writers’ block has a technological alias – it’s really YouTube Block.  In order for me to post the songs that Melissa and I have been working on, they have to be YouTube videos.  (Ask my blogging coach why….)

 Mr. Peanut Butter Face was made when I was visiting my granddaughter Taylor and her family.  They are all serious computer whizzes; Taylor makes art, Maura produces ads with an agency, and Tom has written, produced and created many films, videos, TV spots.  He was good enough to walk me through the production of  Mr. PB Face for YouTube so I could post it here.  I’m sure the “how to” of video production is somewhere available to me without Tom, but again…

So now that I have conquered Writers’ Block (Yay!!) by writing these very words, it’s time for me to get back on my technology horse and ride.  I know:  it’s really easy once you begin, and I’m adopting Margaret Atwood’s tolerance for imperfection.  See?