Saturday, September 18, 2010

"...And My Fingers Are Up So Many Jugglers..."

I fancied borrowing a juggling balls analogy for describing my current writerly predicaments, but not only is it a cliché that’s been done to death, rumour has it the same fate befell the juggler from whom I stole the balls, and with the police prowling the neighbourhood for all manner of madmen, I can’t risk an unwanted excursion in a padlocked security van, trussed and bound like a common criminal.

So I’m going with toes in pies. It’s got to be toes because my fingers are needed for typing. True, I could don a selection of miniature pork pies and deftly tap at the keyboard with the skill of a thimble-clad spinster knocking out pairs of tights on her Jenny, but I figure the pastry would crumble eventually, no matter how much I visualised kittens afloat on puffs of cotton wool, thus ruining a perfectly good thirteen year-old keyboard and exposing me to the threat of death by dogs allergic to pastry but hot on compressed pork.

One pie on one toe, I can handle. A meringue, perhaps; and Big Toe, has to be. As metaphorical encumbrances go, it’s manageable: I can wash, I can cook, I can dress. Two pies, and things get tricky. Like Level Two on what seemed to be a cinch of a game when you named yourself HYPERKILLA and clicked Almost Monocellular Novice. Do I go for another meringue? And since the big toe is important for balance, should I cover the other one for symmetry’s sake or leave it free to work its balancing magic unaided? Further down the Toe/Pie line, the dilemmas proliferate, particularly when it comes to anything packed with cream or fruit jelly and weeny pinky dinkys crushed into cashew curves by a childhood of ill-fitting shoes and exposure to torturers.

When every last one of your toes (and yes, I have 10: I’m no mutant) is buried deep inside some puddingy pie or other (and yes, I’m going with sweet, not savoury — call me Mr Fray Bentos Averse), you realise how compromised your forward motion potential has become. Lift one toe/pie combo, and you’re forced to manouevre a couple more random digits to prevent yourself from slipping over (or having a squelchy parabola of jam squirt right up your trouser leg) — and if one step forward prompts a couple of mis-steps to the side, in no time at all, those two mis-steps necessitate more, till each last iota of your conscious, directive powers is expended, used up, gone, and to all intents and purposes, you might as well be a drunk old uncle demonstrating his hip hop prowess at a family wedding.

So how’s your writing week been, mes amis?


Old Kitty said...

I think the dilemma here are the pies. It's so 1955! I think if you replace pies with cupcakes then all of your digits will be firmly lodged in swirls of such sickly sweet gooeyness with extra sprinkles that you really can only propel yourself forwards into the 21st century and bang straight into the annals of sugary delight.

I think.

Take care

fairyhedgehog said...

Whirl, I have the solution. Send all the sweet pies to me and you'll be totally unencumbered!

As to writing, what writing? I'll get back to it once I've recovered from the holiday/washing machine debacle.

Ann said...

I agree with the pies for cupcakes. Much easier to maneuver.

My writing weeks sounds a bit like yours! But without the toes stuck in pies.

Robin B. said...

Scattery here as well. Loads of things up in the air, trying to figure out which things to do next - and thus, stymied a bit.

Whirlochre said...

Old Kitty
Are you saying my taste in sugary, carbohydrate-packed delights is old hat?

Custard pies at dawn, missus...

She Who Doth Hog, And Who Is Also Somewhat Enchanted...
Better stil, you send me all your pies. That way, I'll have more ammunition to pelt Old Kitty with.

Oh, I see. Ganging up on me, are you?

Can't tell whether you're talking about writing or cakes here. Or jugglers.

Robin B. said...

Writing, querying, editing, sending stories out and life in general, Whirlio. So juggling is i guess the best answer!

Whirlochre said...

I admire your balls.

Robin B. said...

Thank you. I like having balls, oddly enough, but I do find that sometimes juggling them is tedious.

Take today, for instance - the day I'm supposed to be taking the several sections of synopsis I've written and put them together into one coherent and lovely flowing piece.

But I'm currently keyed up because this lit prof I know is bringing by notes on my stories that I asked him to read and give me his opinion and notes, and he'll be here sometime in the next few hours, not sure when, so I can't relax enough to sit tight and focus on the synopsis, which I really need to finish for sending out to several agents on my list. Damn. I only have two days to myself per week.