Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Slowly chipping away at writer's block

There were times I wanted to pull my teeth out, but today I wrote (I hope) the last page for the dental website I've been working on. My, oh my, what I have learned about tooth loss, gum disease, orthodontia, implants and flossing vs. Waterpik. I found out, for instance, that if you want dental implants to prevent bone loss in your jaw, the dentist may (in worse-case scenarios) have to do bone grafting - from a cadaver. That's right, a plug of a dead person's bone punched right into your ol' jaw to get things in shape for metal screws to be implanted to hold in artificial teeth. Excuse me while I go floss about ten times.

My dear editor/cheerleader/best critic/worst critic/psychologist/therapist/idea bouncer-offer/great one-liner squisher Ernst kept me going through page after mind numbing page. He is tough on me though; who would've thought using a beaver analogy on the overbite section was not politically correct? Apparently, some lines are just not appropriate when it comes to dental issues. Even though I didn't mean to offend, the beaver got cut and it still hurts.

Some things I learned during this project:
  • For my blog I can write in my jeans or jammies, but for money it helps to be in semi-nice clothes. Shoes are not necessary, but the better I dress, the better I write. I wonder what I was wearing when I wrote the beaver line?
  • Writing in an upright position at a table or desk is not my thing. I write best with my laptop on top of my lap where it belongs. And my shoe-less feet must be propped up on the coffee table or tucked under my semi-nice clothes. Writing at a desk freezes my brain.
  • I can't write when I'm freezing or hot.
  • It has to be quiet. No noise but the ticking clock in the living room is the best for all involved. If my editor is talking on the phone or telling me about his day, I fake smile and stare glassy-eyed at him until he gets the hint and takes the dog outside.
  • I like writing with the dog in the room. She never talks on the phone or tells me about her day. And she always enjoys my beaver analogies.
  • I need a list to check off. I love lists, and I love checking them off. If I have a zillion pages of content to write, I can handle it if there is a list. When my editor tells me of more projects I need to do, I fake smile at him, stare glassy-eyed and tell him I need a list from him. One I can check off.
  • I can't write on vacation. I have grand plans to get lots of work done while away, but it never happens. I just tell my editor I forgot the list.
  • It doesn't work too well when I try to watch security cameras on the grave shift and write about subjects such as cadaver bone grafts. When my editor reads them, he gets glassy-eyed and stops smiling.
  • It's really amazing that a dead person's bone matter put into my jaw would regrow lost bone, but I think I'll still keep up the flossing.

photo credits: