I cannot seem to write anything lately. I am having trouble getting focused and in the rare instances when I am able to achieve it, it seems to vanish with even the minutest of distractions. It’s getting quite maddening actually as I have about half a dozen unfinished works, and I’ve tossed about ten blog posts in the last week that descended into incomprehensible gibberish before I could get halfway through them.

I’ve read other books which works sometimes. I’ve researched. I’ve read other blogger’s work. Nothing seems to work. Until I came upon an idea that might do the trick. I needed something inspirational, something sensational to jar loose the cobwebs and make writing easy again. So, I had an idea. Now to find something truly unconquered. Something new. I needed a new vantage point, a new view, something different. I needed to see things through a different lens. So where might I avail myself of such a thing?

Rudyard Kipling was inspired by the jungle. We do have is the Okefenokee Swamp close by, but there’s that whole Department of Natural Resources/alligator wrestling incident. I’ve never heard of a restraining order being implemented in respect to a reptile but if the Great State of Georgia gives them a 300 yard safety zone then so be it. Thank you very much Discovery Channel.

David Poyer was inspired by the ocean, which I guess I could do, but it is a ways away and I don’t have a boat. I could borrow one, but that seems like a lot of effort to go through to break a bout of writer’s block and besides I’d likely end up in Borneo and though granted that’d make an interesting story, it creates other issues.

Sir Edmund Hillary was inspired by his climb up Mount Everest. But even that is an issue. If you’ve never been to South Georgia then let me explain. We have no mountains. We don’t really even have any hills. As a matter of fact, when Dolly Parton visited a while back she was officially listed as the highest peak from Miami to Stone Mountain.

But…….a niggling thought, a spark at the corner of my rather locked up imagination. I do have a spot from whence I could see the world anew. A fresh take on life and the world around me. Aha! I had it. So I gathered a pocket full of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and some water and my trusty iPhone loaded with music and retreated to the one spot that could break through this maddening cycle of uncreativity.

This is my journal documenting my journey.

BEHOLD!

MY ROOF!!!

9:30 – I unload the ladder, carrying it proudly around the house. The kids following behind giddily as I unfold it and place it against the roof edge. Already the first small tremors of excitement course through my body as I survey the dizzying heights. Already I feel a kinship with Sir Edmund.

9:45 – The summit is in sight. Boldly I climbed the ladder undaunted by the towering heights. Unlike Hillary I find it is warmer near the summit. I would suggest gloves to my fellow writers who dare undertake this adventure. The asphalt shingles are as hot as hell’s doorstep and tear and rip at my bare knees. Already the onlookers are mocking my foolish bravado as I forge ahead. “Simple mortals.” I think, guffawing.

11:00 – No inspiration to report as of yet. Though sunglasses were definitely an omission I am regretting. It’s quite sunny out here. And warmer than I’d have liked.

11:07 I have aroused the curiosity of some of my neighbors. I am encouraged that there is no such thing as bad publicity though, right?

11:15 – I am beginning to feel some small inklings of inspiration as the squirrels frolic noisily in the trees. A majestic eagle pirouettes through crystal blue skies. The sun climbing every higher into the warming day.

11:30 – More squirrels. Cute little things. Ah their childlike curiosity is amazing. They scurry here and there, appraising me, always at a distance. Amazing little creatures.

12:02 – These curious little fellows seem quite intrigued with my presence. Their little black button noses twitching as they flit about the roof appraising their new guest. I am one with nature.

12:30 – Apparently I am in the middle of some rodentian highway connecting these critters from one tree to the large pecan tree in my back yard. I am beginning to suspect their curiosity is anything but idle.

1:15 – Damn it is hot up here. The beginning pangs of hunger are beginning to gnaw at me. My food supply is lost. In hindsight, Reese’s Cups were not the optimal choice, judging from the soggy mess leaking from my pocket.

1:32 – All the squirrels have retreated temporarily. Sure are a lot of these things around here.

2:00 – It appears that the squirrels are planning something. I sense it. They are chattering incessantly from their pecan tree, mocking me with their little chattering voices and leaping wildly back and forth. Also, the neighbors, perhaps sensing the coming battle have begun to openly stare from their front yards.

Clearly Jasper, the human must be eliminated

3:00 – I am beginning to notice the onset of dehydration, as I used the water I brought to wash the chocolate out of my shorts pocket. This was a mistake in two regards. One, obviously I am out of water. Two, I only had enough to make a soupy mess, further coating my left leg in a chocolate sheen. I realize to my terror this has only enraged the squirrels further, and they are now gathering like sharks around chum.

4:30 – Things have gone from bad to worse. The squirrels have rallied their numbers and quit their aimless chattering and bickering and have now aligned against me. I’ve fortified my position here on the edge of the roof, behind the satellite dish. My parents and neighbors have gathered, urging me not to jump, however, I am so parched I can barely whisper. Apparently my mad swatting at the ants that have now found the chocolate running into my shoes is mistaken for some sort of derangement.

5:30 – I can see their little beady eyes as their heads pop up periodically from behind the peak of the roof. Their attack is imminent. But I am no longer afraid. This is where I will make my stand. This is where I will hold them.

Come and get them, you little furry bastards

6:27 – This may be my final message. I’m going to have to stop writing. My batteries are weak in my iPhone and I need the last dregs of energy for the musical finale of my saga. Farewell my friends.