Half the Whole of It

skitzy writer (1)

I posted a new food debacle on my other site, icantbelieveididthis, in which I confessed to the latest kitchen horror involving meatloaf. Maybe the suspense was too much about how I salvaged this hot mess:

meatloaf 3

Or, perhaps, the blizzard conditions outside kept people inside bored crazy and reduced to scrolling through the internet for anything at all amusing. Whatever, I received a ton more likes from this than most of the Scraps postings concerning all my hand-wringing over writing and the story I’m working on now. Not only is the subject matter on I Can’t Believe This  different but the voice and style is, as well. If I’m honest with myself, these are factors in why my food writing found an audience while my straight writing remains obscure.

What can I say…both writings and blogs are equal halves of the whole of me. Every time I face the blank screen/page it’s like putting me in a paper bag, shaking me up, and be surprised at what tumbles out.

Moral of this story: Lighten up. Enjoy everything I do. Find humor after a day of slogging in the trenches. Not everything I write has to be serious.

I have a new blog on cooking!


Years ago, somewhere in a post down below, I said something about being tired of food writing–which I was, sort of.  In any case, I wasn’t coming up with any good ideas the way I used to. I felt I said everything I wanted to say about food and the kind of food writing and cooking books being published didn’t fit me. Besides, let’s face it, I’m lousy at selling magazine articles or keeping abreast of anything on social media to keep my food brand (that’s what they call it) in circulation. To be perfectly honest, I just wasn’t interested anymore.

Plus, I began to write my Clare stories and couldn’t think of anything else.

Then last month, I was emailing my most wonderful friend, Chris Welch who is an incredible book designer. Someone sent her one of those “how to entertain” books full of stylish illustrations, but the writing came off as stuck-up in a know-it-all way, the kind that leaves the reader (well, me) despondent and feeling like a real smuck in the cooking and hostess department.  Chris said I could do better and, because I was sort of in a holiday manic phase after giving a large (imperfect behind-the-scenes) party of my own, I started riffing on the idea that, instead of writing about splendid parties and accomplished cuisine, why not tell the truth and shout about all the dumb, stupid, hilarious, lame things that happen to all of us in the kitchen or with people about?

So I started a new blog called I Can’t Believe I Did This that’s going to admit to all the mistakes and disasters I’ve ever made in the realm of cooking and entertaining.  I’ll explain the solutions and excuses that sort of rallied me through most mishaps,  in a spirited way that  just may assure the reader it’s not the end of the world.  I hope to hear from others, too, maybe get a discussion going about how we’re all sick of those cooking shows and blogs and magazines that make us hopelessly anxious. Isn’t it about time we admit there are other things more important in the world than the lopsided cake that plopped out for your kid’s class birthday celebration or how you wish you could throw off your high heel shoes at your own party?  Cooking is too much fun, being with friends (sometimes even relatives) too important, to ruin it all by worrying about little mayhem.

I bet that, together, we can find ways to make something wonderful out of a pig’s ear. (Actually, you can–it’s not good for you but it tastes great!)



Now, here’s the first of two posts: And you thought this would be healthy