On Blogging, Writing, and Storytelling: On Not Knowing What to Write (Again)

On Not Knowing What to Write (Again)

I’ll admit it: today’s blog post almost didn’t happen.

It’s early afternoon here in Florida, the heat is doing its best impression of a wet blanket, and my brain feels like it’s running on the last fumes of this morning’s coffee. I kept telling myself I’d think of something. I kept not thinking of something.

Then, almost by accident, I found myself asking a question about Mark Prieto — one of the central characters in my Reunion Duology. I wasn’t trying to brainstorm a topic. I wasn’t even thinking about the blog. I was just circling a thought about why Mark works as a character and why he feels real to readers.

And that’s when it hit me: I was thinking about something. I just hadn’t recognized it as a blog post yet.

That’s the funny thing about writing every day. The topic isn’t always a lightning bolt. Sometimes it’s a quiet nudge from a character you created years ago. Sometimes it’s a memory of a real friend who shaped that character. Sometimes it’s just the stubbornness of not wanting to break the streak.

So, since Mark showed up anyway, I might as well talk about him.

An Excerpt from Reunion: Coda:

Before I get into why Mark matters so much to me as a character, I wanted to share a small moment from early in the story. It’s a simple scene, but it captures something essential about him right away: his ease, his humor, and the kind of presence that makes other people feel steadier just by being there.

I looked around the cafeteria, searching for my best friend, Mark Prieto. He was supposed to meet me here for lunch, but he was nowhere to be seen. I took another bite of my pizza and started to worry. Maybe he had forgotten about our plans. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he had gotten into a fight.

Just as I was losing hope, I spotted Mark making his way towards me from the far end of the cafeteria where the lunch line and the cashiers were found. He had his usual jeans and button-down shirt on, and he carried a tray in his hands and a bright smile on his face. He gestured at me and approached the table.

“Hey,” he said. “Sorry I’m late. I had to go to the bathroom.”

“No problem,” I said. “I was just starting to worry about you.”

Mark sat down across from me, his lunch tray in front of him. We chatted about our classes, our plans for the week, and the latest gossip. I laughed and relaxed, forgetting all about my worries.

After a while, Mark took one last bite of his pizza and made a face. “This pizza is terrible,” he said. “It’s so greasy and the crust is hard.”

I laughed. “I know,” I said. “That’s why I always get the oatmeal cookie.”

Mark reached over and took a bite of my cookie. “This is good,” he said. “Can I have another bite?”

I laughed again and told him he could have the rest of my cookie.

“So, how are your classes?” I asked.

“They’re okay. I’m really digging Business Ed, though. Especially Business Math.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Well, for one thing, I like math. It’s fun and useful. And for another thing, Ms. Garcia is hot.”

I rolled my eyes. Mark had a crush on every attractive female teacher in the school.

“Come on, man. She’s old enough to be your mom.”

“So? She’s still cute. And she’s nice. And she knows her stuff.”

I shook my head. Mark was hopeless.

“Whatever you say, buddy. Whatever you say.”

On the surface, it’s just a lunchroom conversation. But those ordinary exchanges are often where character reveals itself most honestly. Mark doesn’t need a grand entrance to make an impression; he just must show up, say a few words, and suddenly you understand why someone would trust him, miss him, and remember him long after the moment has passed.

Why Mark Exists

Mark began as a kind of wish‑fulfillment — not in the fantastical sense, but in the emotional one. He’s based on a real friend from my childhood, someone I last saw in 1979. We were boys then, and boys don’t always realize which friendships will echo through their lives. Fiction gave me a way to explore that echo.

Mark exists because I wanted Jim to have the kind of friend who doesn’t disappear when life gets complicated. He exists because some people leave a mark (no pun intended) even when they’re no longer physically present. And he exists because stories need witnesses — characters who see the protagonist clearly, even when the protagonist doesn’t see himself.

Why He Works

Mark isn’t the loudest character in the room. He’s not the most dramatic. But he’s steady. He’s perceptive. He’s funny in a way that feels lived‑in rather than performative. He’s the friend who knows when to tease and when to shut up and listen.

He’s also flawed — blunt at times, occasionally exasperated, sometimes too quick to push Jim toward truths Jim isn’t ready to face. But those imperfections make him human. They make him someone you could imagine sitting across from you at a diner, stirring his coffee while giving you that look that says, “You know what you need to do, right?”

Characters like that don’t need big speeches. They just need to feel real.

Why He Stays

Mark’s presence in the duology isn’t about plot mechanics. It’s about emotional continuity. Teenage Mark and adult Mark are recognizably the same person, just older, wiser, and a little more weathered. That consistency is what makes him feel like someone who lived a whole life off the page.

And maybe that’s why he showed up today, when I was staring at a blank screen and burning daylight. He’s always been the character who arrives when Jim needs him — even if Jim doesn’t realize it at first. Today, he arrived for me.

So, here’s today’s post: a small confession that I didn’t know what to write, followed by the realization that the act of searching for a topic became the topic. And a nod to a fictional friend who helped me find my footing on a day when the footing was shaky.

John Wayne said, “We’re burning daylight.” He wasn’t wrong. But even burned daylight still counts as daylight, and even a late blog post still counts as a post.