Erm, I seem to have completely made a mess of something today. Or rather something for today.
Ever so cleverly, I thought I would write a post last night and schedule it for today, because I was going to be out at a family do and so would not be able to write until late.
As it turns out, I have no idea where it went, because up until now there seems to have been an autosave going on, putting things into draft form and nothing has disappeared before. Nope, post not autosaved, not scheduled, doesn’t appear in ‘all posts’, so whatever I did was not so clever after all. Whoops. No link, no nuffink.
So, my (of course absolutely brilliant) post which was straight out of the top of my head and not saved anywhere else (big mistake) has disappeared into the ether. It was written after a large glass of wine, which probably accounted for me a) thinking it was brilliant and b) losing the thing altogether. All sorts of authors in the past seem to have produced their best work under the influence of not only alcohol, but also five kinds of illegal substance plus two or three not well-known enough to have been considered for legislation. Me, one glass of vino collapso and that is the my description – collapso. I am such a cheap round. Actually, I would have said diet coke has more of an effect on me than wine. All those additives make me hyper and I really enjoy the buzz. As long as I don’t have too many, when I become jittery and can’t sleep.
So my, er, brilliant, er lost, post. Can I remember it? Well, I remember what it was about, although much of content has disappeared. I was trying to discuss a bit more on description. Effective description of an object, not just big/small/round/green, but the sort of description that moves someone to understand something about the object itself. The lustre or matt nature of colour, weight versus mass, size and perspective and scale. Whether something is old and how you might know.
You get the idea. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe it was only alcohol talking. Maybe my amazing idea was not an amazing idea at all, but just the ramblings of some demented woman who can’t write and drink at the same time.
And maybe that is a lesson for me. Is this why I sometimes look at my screeds of work in the morning and think it is bilge? My metabolism is not that of great writers of the past. I just hope that clean and sober, my ability to write is better than my ability to schedule a post and not lose it.