Much Ado About Nothing


Much Ado About Nothing


This week I had a conversation with JA Jance, a lovely author, who writes terrific mysteries set in Arizona. She’s like royalty in the book world and if you haven’t read some of her novels, try one or sixty. She had never heard of me, not a surprise, and she asked me what I wrote about and I have to admit, I needed to pause and think about it because I don’t know exactly. Someone mentioned recently that my writing reminded them of Seinfeld. Oh, great, nothingness. I love watching his reruns, but he acknowledges they are about nothing. I would enjoy his fame and notoriety, however.


So, I decided I should think about my writing subjects a bit, maybe I would get better at my craft. I wake up in the morning and some blog subject rolls out of my brain, and I write it down in my notebook, lest I forget before I have my coffee and toast. Today, my daily agenda included putting up a picture, so my blog brain tossed out the idea of home improvement, but since I couldn’t decide where to put the picture or where the hammer was, I’ll save that blog idea for next week.


I glanced back at some of my prior blogs and the concept of nothingness seems accurate. I write about the mundane things that we do, especially as gray-haired geezers (at least that’s me, not necessarily you). Generally speaking, we seniors don’t do a ton that is noteworthy or filled with excitement. I can write a blog about buying hearing aid batteries at the grocery and mishearing what the manager says, but I have to admit that it is beyond boring. It’s a laughable subject but it won’t change the world. Or a story about driving a hundred miles behind a huge semi to eat an egg salad sandwich at the Villages in Florida or making goo-goo eyes at Jethro Gibbs on NCIS. And don’t forget the nude beach at Daytona, okay, maybe that’s an exception.


My Wrinkly Bits series is a different story. They are tales about fictional people, Audrey, Griff, and Logan, but they deal with the same issues that real people do, such as loneliness when their long-time friends move away or die and their attempt to convince their adult children that they don’t need to move to a retirement home, they just need their lightbulbs changed on a regular basis.


It is actually fun to write about nothing. Few people live in the autobahn’s fast lane, certainly not me nor anyone I know, and it would be difficult to write about it. Writing classes always tell you: write about what you know. The next time I am asked that question, I’ll say, “Easy peasy. I write about nothing.”


If you enjoy wrinkly bits, please share.