Oh, it's been a wild week over here in BonnieLand. Lots of winter preparations and searching for winter wiper blades and those really expensive gloves purchased on sale last year have eaten up too much time already. But that's not my excuse this week. I'll save that one for later. ;)

"I can't."
Wow, putting those two words on the page just made me tear up. I blame Daniel Craig keeping his clothes on throughout most of Quantum of Solace. Now where was I?

Oh yes, the c-word. I've used it a lot, especially at the gym with my personal trainer. Luckily she ignores me and just adds more reps to my routine. Grr.

But saying "I can't" is just another way of saying "I'm not even gonna bother trying," and that's what makes me sad. There have been way too many times that I've can't-ed myself out of things, like writing my first manuscript ten years ago when I first thought of it instead of waiting until that particular genre had curled up and faded away like the cucumber at the back of my fridge.

Hey, it'll come back again, what goes around comes around and all that. Whatevs.

Right now I have two "I can'ts" sitting comfortably on the futon behind my left eye, noshing on seven-layer dip and fighting over my Melrose Place DVDs. Allow me to introduce them to you:

"I can't rock climb" and "I can't write deep enough." Their nicknames are Rock and Deep, which makes them sound like characters from The Bold and the Beautiful, but who said that was a bad thing?

Rock I blame on my fear of heights. There's just something about climbing up a wall or a cliff or even an open staircase that makes me want to, how you say, COMPLETELY FREAK OUT.

And there I was, thinking that I kind of mastered the whole height thing by going ziplining for my birthday last year, but nooooooo: as part of the fitness series thing I was doing earlier this year, we did a rock-climbing day. When I say we, I mean basically everyone else. Le sigh.

I'll work on Rock later. After Paper and Scissors. (I'm here all week, people.)

Deep haunts me every time I work on a novel or an article. My voice is naturally light (like my white pasty skin), so when I approach darker, deeper subject matter or conflicts or character motivations, I tend to, how you say, COMPLETELY FREAK OUT.

And there I was, thinking that I kind of mastered the whole deep, dark thing when I made things really hard and horrible for the heroine in my last manuscript. Sure, it took me three tries to realize that she couldn't just waltz through the novel picking daisies and skipping (I mean, that's so 1967), but I did it: I put Baby in a corner and hid Patrick Swayze in my bedroom closet. For a month.

I'll admit it: Deep and I have some issues. Wow, for a moment, it looked like I had written "Depp and I have some issues," and that would be true as well. I just can't hang out with a man who looks better in eyeliner than I do.

Ugh, see what I mean? There I was, about to get to my deep, dark secret about not being able to write deep and dark, and I throw in a crack about Johnny Depp's makeup. It's a sickness, I tell you.

Maybe I'm afraid of what's behind that door way at the back of the basement that no one looks at directly, yet everyone knows is there? Perhaps the way I approach my characters' motivations, conflicts and goals reminds me of how I should approach what happens in my life?

Maybe I'm afraid that if one of my characters or I open the door and deal with what's behind it, there'll be nothing left for me to write about.

Oh yeah. That's probably it. Damn...

Anyone have advice on how I can beat Deep? Pretty please?

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