THE QUIZZICAL NATURE OF BLANK PAGES

As November is about to expire, I am facing a deadline, a mostly blank yellow tablet (save the previous 16 words), and the imaginary, impatient faces of a readership that I am grateful to have an opportunity to write for.  Indeed, I am thankful that Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and all the pickings of a delicious turkey have all passed without incident, and I am now somewhat thankful that my non-prolific butt doesn’t have to write this column more than once a month.  I say this even as I dream about writing columns much more frequently, and eventually meeting and conversing with more of you, the aforementioned imaginary, impatient faces.

With my deadline imminent if not yet ignored, my internal muse tells me that I should not only write on, but also about, blank pages.  This may be because in the past month or so, I’ve typed thousands of quasi-creative e-mails and written the occasional delightful greeting card, but this is the first time that I’ve tried to draft a complete column with just pen and paper.

It wasn’t so long ago that pen and paper was the only way to write creatively.  (By paper, I mean any object that leaves room for my penned thoughts, my “fave five” consisting of spiral notebooks, legal pads, envelopes, white spaces on print ads and ATM receipts.)    I’m not exactly sure why, but my supposition is that it has something to do with the organic nature of the writing process. My thoughts and words just felt much more genuine when I was putting pen or crayon to legal pad or rumpled envelope.

It used to be the case that there was even more of a disconnect between my left/right brain and the two fingers I was typing with.  Every time I had to return the carriage on my Olympia typewriter, I lost my train of thought.  More recently, since I graduated to four-finger typing on computer screens, the problem was that it was harder to claim ownership of words that were typed on a screen as opposed to those jotted feverishly on a parking ticket.    Now, it seems that I prefer the four-finger typing method.  Is it because there is less of a disconnect now between my thoughts and my typed words?  Or, is it because both my penmanship and eyesight have worsened?  I hope that the answer is not that I prefer not to claim ownership of my words now.  I say this as I have decided to abandon my semi-legible legal pad for the convenience and objectivity of my desktop.

Having now typed all this, I wish to elicit the expertise of our writing community with some of the questions that my blank pages and screens have inspired.  I will do this in the form of a short quiz, without an answer key, or a “what-this-all-means” decoder.  Along the way, I will probably throw in the occasional anecdote which may illuminate my own approaches.  By the way, I just completed a (n) “Are you a right-brained or left-brained” quiz online, only to find out that I’m 29% right, 20% left and  51% scatterbrained.

In this reader participation exercise, I will precede each question with the word “Quiz:,” written in bold and followed by a colon, an homage of sorts to how my brothers and I would interact, and still do on occasion.  We might all be sitting there watching TV or eating dinner, when one of us would blurt out “Quiz,” capturing the others’ full attention.  The question could then range from the patently obvious (Quiz:  In what year did Columbus discover America?) to the arcane factoid (Quiz:  Who was Zachary Taylor’s Vice President?) to the totally trivial, yet kind of factual (Quiz:  What type of car is Mr. Sharkey thinking about buying?), to the self-indulgently subjective (Quiz:  What are my three favorite sitcoms of all time?).

So, let’s begin, with these guidelines.  When I write “I”, I mean “You”; you don’t have to tell me your answers, but you’re invited to give feedback; you don’t have to show your work.  Okay …

Quiz:  I am feeling most creative when I am

a) writing with good old-fashioned pen and paper

b) typing on my desktop

c) typing on my laptop

d) writing or typing my tax returns

e) it depends on the type of writing

My answer would be anything but “c” as the only laptop I use for these purposes is a legal pad on top of my jeans while sitting on the couch.  My best answer currently may be “e” as I still prefer to write poetry with pen and paper, even though I’ve graduated to “b” otherwise. 

Quiz:  When staring at a blank page/screen, I:

a) am excited about all the possibilities

b) feeling great pressure to produce

c) am ecstatic for a nanosecond, until I convince myself that I’ll screw it up

d) have the emotionless expectation that I’ll probably leave it blank before escaping to my tv, e-mail or favorite website

For those who went with “a,” do you feel the same way before moving into an unfurnished apartment or house?  I am definitely a “c” in those situations.  While I have a little more confidence in my writing than my decorating, I vacillate terribly between all the choices.

Let me share an anecdote that will betray my age, my approach to college, and my somewhat devious and logical mind.  It has to do with blank pages and I don’t know if I’m confessing or bragging.  Once upon a time in college at a supposedly prestigious anonymous Ivy League school in Philly, my Poly Sci professor assigned a take home exam that had to be turned in at a specific time and place.  Procrastinating to the very end, I remember driving across the bridge to my parents’ house and hurriedly giving myself about two hours to write out my answers before having to drive back to Philly.  Realizing that I would not have time to complete the exam (less a case of writers block than my being a jackass), my paper magically skipped from the bottom of page four to the top of page 7, which  started in the middle of a sentence that set up my concluding paragraph.  If I remember correctly, I turned it in unstapled, and may have even put shoeprints on the bottom of a few of the pages.  My memory says that I either got a ‘b” or a “mulligan” on the exam.   Ah, the power of the blank page(s).  The missing page caper suggests my next question.

Quiz:  In my life, I have only cheated on/at:

a) school assignments and tests

b) golf, but doesn’t everybody?

c) the previously mentioned tax returns

d) all of the above, and …nevermind

e) how dare you assail my integrity!

As this isn’t Dr. Phil, allow me to move on to one final topic, which may or may not help me/us to fill in more blank pages in the future. 

Quiz:  Writing-wise, I am most productive when:

a) I write at specific, scheduled times and utilize an outline

b) I write at a specific time and place, no outline needed

c) I use an outline, at whatever time and place

d) I’m a streak hitter; I’m much better when I wing it and just go with the flow

e) writing at a specific time, place is optional

f) writing from a specific place, the time is optional

g) “Huh?!”

I’m not into interpreting other people’s answers, but if you were looking for an “all of the above” option, your writing career/hobby may be temporarily on thin ice. Not to worry, as all of the options seemed perfectly palatable to me, and I choose to regard this as a sign of open-mindedness and creativity.

Before signing off, and wishing you a Happy December, and many beautifully filled pages, let me leave you with three final thoughts:

1) If you answered “g” to all four of the questions, you are either very creative or skipped the first three questions.

2) If you care to ever share thoughts about anything I’ve written or haven’t, please e-mail me at sosogai@yahoo.com, or via this website, and leave me your contact info.

3) The answers to my semi-hypothetical family quiz questions are:

• The patently obvious – 1492 (come on!)
• The arcane factoid – Millard Fillmore, for about 15 months
• The totally trivial – Back in the day, a Plymouth Fury
• The self-indulgently subjective:  As of now, The Honeymooners, All In The Family and Seinfeld

Happy December!