Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page.
Nothing to Write About
By Maeve Riley
Day 30, May 6
The nearly full moon is rising over the mountains across from our house. It’s blinding to look at and negates any need for a headlamp. Luca paces around, damp from the river, hoping for a second dinner. Marley is content under a blanket on the green velvet couch; he’s seen plenty of full moons in his time.
I stand outside in shorts that I bought ten years ago at the mall in Merced when I was in college. They are a deep red with black stripes and have the Hogwarts emblem printed all over. I am barefoot, my feet somehow still dirty from the garden even though I just showered. I also have on a pink and purple sweater that I bought at a thrift store in Santa Barbara because it reminded me of a sunset.
The night is warm and smells sweet of locust trees. I stare at the moon and for a little while longer after Jake goes back inside. Eventually I go inside and gather my shoes and my phone and its charger before I head over to the studio to try to write something for this One Hundred Day Project I’m in the midst of.
“I’ve got nothing to write about!”
I think, in the same way that I’ll look at my closet and despair over nothing to wear, gaze into a full fridge and lament about how there’s nothing to eat.
I like this project because it forces me to look into the creases of my life. I shake out the couch cushions and peer into my memories. I look for the less obvious moments. I only have so many obvious tales to tell. The really big things, I’m beginning to realize, fruit over time. I’m grateful for life’s artful ways of teaching lessons when I don’t realize that I’m supposed to be learning.
Maeve Riley is an artist, reader, writer, and an enthusiast of the natural world. She is fascinated by life and people and their lives; it is her favorite subject to write about. She lives in Western Sonoma County with her partner and their two dogs.
