“I enjoy reading about Little Diana, but can you write something past puberty?” commented a critique partner after reading yet another missive about my early years from age six to fourteen.

I was taken aback, as I was not yet used to his frank personality. However, once I recovered, I realized that he had voiced what I had failed (refused?) to consciously acknowledge: I was stuck.

Around the same time, another critique group member wrote on one of my submissions, “You need to write about your mother,” to which I immediately bristled to myself, Why? Haven’t years and years of therapy been enough?? Convinced that I was “finished” with my past issues, I put my critique members’ comments out of my mind.

And my writing remained stuck.

Five months later, this same critique member says to me again, “You need to write about your mother.” Do I? This time, rather than raise my hackles, I was willing to consider the possibility that she was right. Is this why I can’t write past my puberty years?

Even so, I don’t want to go back to that chapter in my life. Yet I know that my writing will remain in a holding pattern until I do. I need to unearth what I’m clinging to, resisting, or trying to figure out and, most importantly, why.

I have read many articles on how to overcome writer’s block, or how to get “unstuck.” Although they have offered helpful advice and techniques, my experience is that none of these work until I ask myself  two questions: “What can’t I get past? And why?”

I’ve found that when my writing is stuck, my life is stuck. I trust that my answers will come and that I will be able to handle them when they do. And so can you. Ask the questions, be patient for your answers to come–for they will–and allow yourself to hear and accept them when they do.

Staring at the blank screen or sheet of paper, willing the words to come, will not work if something is holding our spirit hostage. Once we determine our “what,” our “why” will eventually present itself.

Will the words then start flowing freely? Maybe. Maybe not. But now they will sooner rather than later.

The day after GalleyCat editor Jason Boog’s blog post went viral announcing that Oxford dropped the Oxford (or serial) comma from its writing and style guide, his clarification, “The Oxford Comma Is Not Dead,” headlined GalleyCat. Apparently, we comma crazies are vast in number, and our passionate cries of outrage flooded cyberspace. According to Linda Holmes, “Twitter went bazoo over the entire Oxford business yesterday before the clarification was made…” (Bazoo! Don’t you just love that word?)

Mr. Boog never suspected that his innocent report would unleash such mayhem. Although an admitted non-serial-comma proponent, he set things aright, bless his heart. It turns out that the University of Oxford Public Affairs Directorate started this uproar, not the University of Oxford Press that sets literary precedent and advocates the “thoughtful use of the Oxford comma.” (Hmmm . . . define “thoughtful.”)

Although still suspicious and jumpy, this comma crazy is sleeping easier, knowing that her beloved serial comma is not (yet) in peril and literary order (for the moment) remains.

P.S. In my Inbox along with my daily GalleyCat missive was a recommendation from Amazon.com for Oxford Modern English Grammar. Coincidence?   

Say it ain’t so! Sorry. In my outrage, I’ve lapsed into grammatical incorrectness. But I’m beside myself. Yesterday, Jason Boog reported that the Oxford comma, better known as the serial comma, has been dropped—DROPPED, I tell you—by a University of Oxford Writing and Style Guide. To serial comma crazies like me, this is bleak news indeed.

Let me demonstrate. Take this sentence sans serial comma: “I went to the fair with my sisters, Ralph and David.” Hmmm, really? Not unless your sisters names are Ralph and David! Okay, now write this sentence with the serial comma: “I went to the fair with my sisters, Ralph, and David.” Ah, so you hung out with your sisters and Ralph and David. That’s more like it.

Don’t the Oxford gods realize what havoc they are encouraging in this already havoc-filled world? Writing should be sacrosanct; the one area where order, stability, (note serial comma) and clear communication remains!

To be fair, the Oxford gods do make this caveat in their style guide: “But when a comma would assist in the meaning of the sentence or helps to resolve ambiguity, it can be used. . .” Harrumph. Now that conditions have been placed upon the use of the serial comma, we are only one less keystroke away from literary anarchy!

I love the serial comma! I won’t give it up today, tomorrow, (note serial comma!), or EVER!