“For Your Viewing Pleasure”

 

            Streaming services opened an endless supply of television viewing for us with unexpected surprises ranging from sitcoms to drams. I can binge watch entire series that originally took years to see, within back-to-back blocks of time. Although I don’t turn on the television set until mid-afternoon each day, I’ve managed to stumble upon some wickedly funny shows as well as tissue demanding series like Firefly Lane and Broadchurch. Some shows I watch alone as I know my husband won’t watch the murderous plots of Criminal Minds. Sometimes, I end up watching something twice, like the first season of Grace and Frankie because I had to share its wit with him.

            Friends suggest, “Have you seen . . .” which I add to a mental list to view eventually. Everyone knows my penchant for disaster movies, and any sci-fi finds itself on my list, too. It’s a slow process to make it through every documentary, film, and show on my “To View” list which means I lag behind the watching habits of most of my friends. Add to that the fact that I limit my time in front of the television to about two hours a day, and you can understand that my catalogue contains a hefty number of shows to be seen.

            This week I finally began watching The Sopranos. With the first episode, I understood why more than one person suggested this show for me (and not my husband). The psychologist in me became hooked immediately with the main character’s angst and flaws. The writer in me likes the unique blend of humor and horrific violence. However, I realized immediately that this show is not one I can watch hour after hour. Two episodes at a time is my limit. Yesterday, I found episodes of The Waltons to counterbalance the brutal beating and killing of a character with the sugary sweet innocence of 1970s television.

            My youth, spent waiting from one week to the next to watch the next episode, didn’t let me realize the excellence within a program. Now, my viewing pleasure, provided through one of many streaming options, allows me to appreciate quality writing, performances, and production in a way an audience in the past never could.

 

Copyright 2024 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“The List”

            I keep a list of possible writing topics on the front of pages of a spiral notebook. I draft my poetry, personal narratives, and short stories on the remaining pages. When the papers become full of scratched out revisions, I move onto a new spiral. And I transfer the topic list, adding new ideas and deleting the ones that I’ve already tackled.

            My brainstorming list changes gradually. With some notions, I plan to write a story—only to have it evolve into a poem. I’ll mentally outline one concept into a poem, and when I sit down to write a nice narrative develops. A few of my subjects have transferred from spiral to spiral over a couple of years. Uncertain on how to approach these themes, I simply keep them on the list in the hopes that one day my muse will guide me through a dog’s life or how to walk away from lifelong dreams.

            When I cross through an issue on my list, satisfaction fills me. That bold stroke means I’ve accomplished another goal within my writing. Many of my friends who write strive for perfection within each creation. They struggle laboriously over word nuances and prefer to place within their blogs pieces approaching perfection. I admire their tremendous skill as they weave   texts together with flawlessness. My purpose for sharing my writing, though, doesn’t center around hewing brilliance out of a rough diamond, but instead focuses upon practice, practice, practice.

 

 

            Today, I’m pulling out a pretty purple spiral purchased at a sale at Target last week. I will sit down with my favorite pen in hand and transfer my list, and possible add a few more ideas into the mix.  

Copyright 2013 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman