We had a couple of friends over last night for drinks and snack-like food. I had a good time, if not a little bit of a tipsy time.. I also went on a rant about my extreme dislike for Food stars Giada DeLaurentis and Rachel Ray. To my guests, I apologize. To Giada and Rachel, yeah I still don’t like you.
Ok so I decided when I awoke this morning that I was not going to be too sarcastic and I was going try to write a more serious blog. Well as serious as I get.
Several months back my Grandma posted on her Facebook her reasons for writing. So I wanted to write about that as well and as always, I will most likely chase bunny rabbits that have nothing to do with the subject. Welcome to my mind. It’s a little nutty.
I adore writing. It is one of the only things that I still do from when I was a kid. You grow up and your likes change a bit, and some things that you loved at when you were younger you decide not to carry with you into the future. That’s life baby. But writing has always been there, like an old t-shirt worn so many times it is now the softest and most comfortable thing you own. It is reliable.
I don’t take a lot of ‘me’ time out of the day. There are many reasons for this but the top two are that I have a Toddler who is full throttle all day long and who, when I am not looking, drinks dandruff shampoo and tries to knock down musical instruments from my wall with my broom. Secondly, I am poorly organized. I really am. I may be more organized than some but if I organized my day more efficiently I would have more ‘me’ time. That being said, writing is a way fro me to sit down and think about life and my day and to write out what I think.Often times i find myself writing something and I have to stop because what I was writing was a view I didn’t realize I had a firm opinion on. Why? Because as i said, my day gets booked up quickly and often times I don’t have the convenience of silence to sort out all my philosophies. So in this way writing is self discovery for me. I write to explore the unseen depths of my mind and soul.
Writing is also a form of truth telling. I can not lie when I write. Why lie to myself? Why lie to you, those faithful few returning day in and out to read my rambles? If you can’t be honest in your writing then you can’t be honest in life. To put something down on paper or on your computer is to admit who you are, who you want to be and all the failings and glories of your life. Plus, I find it is much harder and takes way more effort to try and lie to yourself than it is to be honest. The truth isn’t a bad thing. I prefer it, it shows me myself and makes me a better person.
I continue to write inspite of my lack of grammar skills. As I am writing a thousand little red lines are underlining all the words I have spelled incorrectly. I am not a good speller, the rules of language often escape me and the one rule I do remember, ‘i before e except after c’, rarely applies. I think when I figured this out, I said screw it and stopped paying attention to the grammer train. After all, if we are going to put rules to language, let’s at least make sure they are consistant. Also, another reason I never spell anything correctly, my computer fixes it for me. Like a spoiled child whose parent is there to bail them out over and over to the point that they never learn their lesson, spellcheck is my parent. Too bad it doesn’t correct real life mistakes but then I would probably be a really terrible person now if it did. I am a firm believer in mistakes beinga neccessary part of life in character building.
Did you see that bunny Rabbit? Yeah, I told you I would do that.
I write to relax. It’s better than a bubble bath, which is not very relaxing for me. (Bunny Alert) I find baths to be great for the first few minutes and on rare occasions I enjoy them for about 20 minutes. Over all though I find lying in a tub of my own filth kinda not enjoyable. But anyways I write to relax. It does help me, especially after a long day and I think I am too tired to write, most of the time I am surprised by the amount of words I can type out in just a few minutes. So I guess it revives me too.
Right now it is thundering and raining so this seems all very serene.
One thing they say all great writers do is read other great writers work. Well I have little time to do so unless their name is Dr. Seuss or any of the many famous tween books like Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. If I’m not reading with my children then I am rarely reading. I want to but it’s not something I have a lot of time for so if I have to do this in order to be a great writer, well then I’m screwed. Not that children’s authors are shit, quite the opposite but a book with a more adult subject would be nice.
I guess lastly and maybe most important, I write because I can. Because I want to. I may never be published again (small stint writing for a small free paper pro bono in SC). I may never have a huge group of people who follow me. I may never be considered a great writer. These are not important to me really. What is important is that I continue to enjoy this craft and maybe I will refine it as I go.
So this is why I write. Hopefully people enjoy what they read and if not well I don’t really care. I hold my self accountable to my personal best, no one else’s. Sure I take advice and chew on it to see if it will help me and sometimes it does, to which I am thankful but, you also have to know your won stlye and stick to your guns if you really believe in it.
When I was writing in South Carolina my editor was really pushing me to write an article a certain way. The article was on New Orleans after Katrina, he wanted a “look at all the devestation” article. I did not and did not think that was what New Orleans needed, another hopeless rant about their loss. So I said no, I wanted to write about rebirth. And i did and he loved it, as did the readers. So stick to your guns, be who are and believe in what you have to offer, that’s just good advice in life.
Oops, there went another bunny.
Okay three cups of coffee down and my head is still kinda swampy. Time to go and get this day on and my head out of the clouds.
To my readers, thanks for reading. To my writers, thanks for writing. To my Grandma who posed the Question of writing in the first place, thanks for asking.