I'm lucky to get any comments on my post, they're so boring. You're getting the views, you're not doing so bad.
Joy, it makes me feel bad that you feel you've made so little an impression. :(
Can I join the crazy cat lady circle? If age and crotchetyness is required, then I'm good to go!
It's been said before but, write whatever the heck you want. Fill up the page with nonsense! Whatever you choose to write, do it because you want to. Be genuinely you.
And come and visit my blog when ever you want. I'm about as un-profound as they come!
JoyousLoving --
I had the rather irksome experience of spending over an hour writing a comment here this morning, only to have my Internet connection here in Thailand crash. And that comment was lost, but your situation made enough of an impact I decided to write a summary of what I wrote before.
First, I taught writing for the equal to about 27 years on the university level, have been an editor, and am currently a writer (in the form of a weekly column for my own website). So, the difficulties confronting folks writing in whatever forum aren't new to me.
Now to the thoughts I had. Let me take a blunt approach: don't be silly. Everyone has an interesting something to tell.
The short version of the main comment I made is I know an almost entirely uneducated guy a local in the area of my homeplace in Texas, a small ranch immediately outside a small ranching and farming community who is almost entirely uneducated -- he had to drop out of school halfway through second grade. Made his living as a handyman and the like, and in those days (when I was young), supplemented his income fishing in his hut on stilts on the bank of a river with no power or water. A hole in the floor was his fishing hole, garbage can and restroom.
So, imagine my amazement when I was a junior in college, majoring in literature and taking a course in Shakespeare and stopped off, textbook in hand, at the local cafe, only to have Johnny -- Mr. Handyman -- come in and sit with me, then casually inquire what the book was, then, when I condenscendingly said something like, "Um, a few hundred years ago named Shakespeare wrote plays and sonets and this is his collected works," to be startled by his reply:
"Shakespeare! How I love him!"
Turned out that some years before Widow Jones (no joke) had hired him to tear down the falling-down storage shed in her back yard and haul the debris away, including whatever contents were in it. Among those contents was a moth-eaten, ancient, but illustrated edition of the complete works of The Bard. Intrigued by the illustrations, and long frustrated by his virtual inability to read much, Johnny asked The Good Widow if he could have the book, to which she agreed.
Then he saved up his pennies until he could buy a primary-level dictionary.
Several increasingly-higher-level dictionaries and some years later, he didn't merely get the jist of Shakespeare.
That day in the cafe, he began quoting -- at considerable length -- from various plays and sonnets. I (and all the ranchers and farmers there, who all forgot entirely about their crops and cows, instead gathering around, agape, asking me if Johnny was nuts) were stunned. I was quickly forced to start flipping through the pages of my textbook, trying to keep up to confirm the various demands from the crowd, "Is that right? Did he quote that stuff right???"
Yeah, it was right. Like 100% so, over a several-hour period.
More extraordinarily, unlettered as he was, he had an intuitive and superb ability at literary criticism (which led me to consult my notes from my class with my professor, himself a scholar of world note).
My professor later met him after I told him about Johnny, and, believe it or not, they became something of friends. And Dr. Chamberlain alerted the main county newspaper, in which a feature writer did a major spread on Johnny. And when I took Dr. Chamberlain to meet him the first time, two intellectual giants left this dumb cowboy in the dust pretty darned fast.
Now, JoyousLoving, is that neat, or what? In the 30+ years I've been telling and writing that story, I have yet to meet a negative or uninterested reaction.
And I'm sure you've known someone -- probably more than one -- people who are fascinating.
They make great topics.
Like the Congressman father of two of my classmates when I was in junior high.
Like my classmate and fellow acolyte of years who grew up to be my current Congressman, too.
Like the Father of one of my very first university students who ended his career as Superintendent of West Point.
Like the children of two of my friends here, the children actors and singers, and locally quite famous. And were you to meet them as I have, you would think they were just ordinary kids. Not.
And so on.
Moving away from the area of what to write about, it's true that writing isn't a cup of tea even when you've decided your topic. You have to find a voice, and select a tone.
The real trick here is twofold. First, your job as a writer is essentially the reverse of an actor's. An actor has to take written material then deliver it in normal speech. You have to decide what you want to say, but then, for heaven sakes, don't render it into prose as a precise record of the way we would speak in informal conversation, with its uh's, ah's, um's, pauses, breaking off in midsentence, abrupt topic shifts, etc. etc. etc. Read a court reporter's record to see what I mean. (Long, long ago in a galxy far, far away I worked in police and security work, so have had to wade through some of that stuff. I also was active as an actor in community theater in those years.)
The actor has to make the written word sound conversational. In that sense, your job is the same, except you're coming from the other direction from the actor.
Both voice and tone have to fit the topic. You're not going to write a funny story about, say, a murder, or AIDS, or Darfur. For instance.
Lastly, since you mentioned time constraints, please don't forget that some of the most brilliant, memorable writing isn't long at all. Consider, for instance, Mark Twain's words that went something along these lines (though I'm not sure if I have the quote precisely correct): "One can be an idiot. One can be a member of Congress -- but, then, I repeat myself." Seventeen words living a century and a half later. At the same time, don't use a thousand words to explain or report what 200 words will do.
I never heard of this site until this morning, and might have glided on by, but the extract from your post caught my attention. I care deeply about writing, and about encouraging others.
Ease up on yourself. Time constraints are a different matter; you have to make your own call on those.
Hm, one final caution, originally posited in this format, approximately, in the 1930's by an American journalist: "Writing is easy. All you have to do is to sit at the typewrite with a blank piece of paper in front of you, then wait until little beads of blood pop out on your forehead."
Don't let the "field of pure snow" get you down.
And I certainly hope I haven't wasted your time.
The best of luck to you, should you decide to pursue this. I hope you do; there are never too many voices, only too few.
With regards,
Mekhong Kurt, Webmaster
www.BangkokAtoZ.com
Bangkok, Thailand
An afterthought. You don't have to get up close and personal. One of my best friends, who is an artist and has his own website and is a writer, painter, and sculptor, has as his Number One Fan one of my Aunts, whom he's never met, and likely never to meet. And they're completely opposite personalities. (I was downright shocked when my Auntie e-mailed me how much she enjoyed a peom he wrote called "To the Virtues of a Prostitute" I had posted. This is Mom's Kid Sis, a deeply religious, conservative, central Texas gal. And my buddy is the complete antithesis. But she corresponds with him even more than she does with me!)
Well -- okay. In your writing you do, by definition, reveal something of yourself. But if you're not ashamed of that self, so in the hell what? As long as you can look in the mirror without averting your gaze, it's damn sure not up to me nor anyone else to sit in judgment. [Last I knew, nobody had renamed me "God," "Allah," "Buddha," or whatever.]
Your call. You clearly want a blog. Go for it, if that's your wish. Heck -- unless you're seeking to make either a name or money or both, does it really matter? I have a few thousand visitors monthly, and so far, I've never made a dime, but it's gratifying some folks are loyal readers and correspondents. That's satisfying.
Mekhong Kurt