I guess it all depends on why you’re writing in the first place. I mean, do you really want to write, so you start a blog with absolutely no friggin’ idea of what to write but you have this itch to write something that has the possibility of leaving a part of you permanently in place, for others to read and learn about you even if you depart this earth? How I wish I had the writings, the baring of one’s soul, from people in my past that I am unable to talk to because they are very permanently long gone, unable now to tell me what is in their head. Their fears. Their hopes. Their thoughts of being unable to stop the forward march of death.
A blog is begun. You aren’t sure of what to do, what to write. Can you write? Do you even know where to put a comma? Is your spelling and sentence structure atrocious? Does that even matter? Or do you just think about it for awhile and slowly , bravely, venture into it thinking it would be a really cool thing to do, writing things other people read. And then after a few weeks you go damnza, this is fun! So you learn and learn and try to find out everything you can about writing a blog so you can make it as good as possible, and then wait to see if anyone comes to read it. You enjoy yourself, and think, I could be a writer! You have begun the process of reinventing yourself. I’m a pro at that. It keeps life interesting, constantly challenging yourself to be more than you have been!
To do it right takes a lot of time. It’s like a job, but you don’t get paid money. You do get paid though, in page likes and comments and having interesting conversations with people from all over the world! It’s great for confidence building. It’s teaches you how to communicate in words. Learning how to write a blog is different from sending someone a newsy email. You tell yourself, “I want to be a writer,” and sometimes you have to reinvent yourself to do that Lastly, yes, blogging is fun.
I never slam out five line blog posts that don’t have a point – somewhere. Some are deeply personal that have tongues wagging from people I know who say, “How could you write that! What will people say! OOOh well. My life is an open book and I have nothing to hide. I have no need to hide myself from anyone or make excuses for myself. We all make mistakes. But do we learn from them? That’s the key to reinventing yourself and making yourself happy. If other people don’t like it I’m not in control of that.
This is the blog I use to rant and rave and get things off my chest. My other blog is my serious one, the one that matters because there are lives at stake that it will affect. BUT do I take everything I write seriously. Is there a point to all this? Is there a reason I’m still up at 4 AM tweaking my words and researching how to do this right? Yes. Very much, yes. Because I reinvented myself – again – and if I decide to do something I will tear it apart with my teeth. I will grind it up and chew on it like a porkchop bone and obsess on it until it becomes the best I can do. I am addicted to it the way bees are drawn to the nectar of flowers.
I have always quite simply loved to write. To make the thoughts in my mind take concrete form, the same way the notes of my music is a concrete form of my emotions that I can step back from and witness it the and way as strangers.
I knew when I was young, there were different roads I could go down and each road would send my life into a different direction. I loved to dance. Did I want to be a dancer? I did eventually do that – but in strip joints from age 30 until my 40th birthday, quitting before I looked like I should, and was damn good at it. I think there are many women who have wished they looked good enough to dance naked and many women do in the privacy of their own homes.
This all took place after the years being a professional musician – a singer/keyboard/guitarist who trashed her vocal cords singing incorrectly in too many smokey clubs. This is why I have the ability now to write the music I do, with the passion I play with. But back then my ego stopped me from being a sideman to someone and be just a keyboard player who didn’t front the band. Wrong choice, but I needed to take care of my kids, that’s why I started dancing and made a lot more money than I did as a musician. I never got a single nickle of help from their father. (But today, many years later we are friends. He is their father. Besides, I have become friends with all of my x husband’s.)
Did I want to be an artist? I have untrained talent, if I wanted to use it. My desires were all in the arts. Did I ever even one time ever want to be something like a dental assistant? God no! That thought scared the crap out of me. ( no slam on dental assistants here. We need people who want to be that.) But the thought of me spending my life in something so completely uncreative would have been a living hell for me. That was my nightmare, waking up living in a track house in a suburb, which I did for a very short time when I tried to have a real job – by society’s standards . I couldn’t live a life with my time so structured and having no flexibility. I needed my life to support my life, to be able to create my income by who I was. Have I been thrown major curveballs? Huge ones. But I pick myself up. Dust myself off. Then I carry on. Sometimes life sucks. Get over it. Treat yourself and go buy a bag of gummy worms.
I went through many life changes. I called them “Sharp Turns to the Left, a title of an autobiography I spent the better part of a year writing fifteen years ago. A book in which I was going to be brutally honest about myself. I had to stop writing it because I thought, “Oh shit, if my mother reads this it would just kill her. She’d die of shock knowing the things her little girl did. “But now, after moving back to within a block of where my mother lives and spending literally hundreds of hours talking, I don’t think there is much I could write now that could shock my mom anymore than I already have, so maybe I could go back now and finish writing about my life – after I finish the book that is devouring me at the moment – InsideOut- with the newly changed working title of – Inside The Forbidden Outside – the nonfiction book about the life of Jamie Cummings. In Huntsville Prison. What guided his life to be where he is and what kind of man did it make him. What kind of man did he become. In our letters he let me into his head no matter how painful it was. You can find links to my other blog, “My Name is Jamie. Life in Prison” on the side of this blog and finding 3 of the chapters I I have posted pretty easily.
So what is the point of this post? I think the point is that we all write for different reasons. Some people write as a career choice, a current career our a hopeful one, like mine. Some write for fun and aren’t interested in branching out and are satisfied with having only WordPress readers, which are indeed valuable worldwide. Some people are excited that something they wrote is on the web for the world to see, and there are some that heal their hearts and minds through writing. A catharsis takes place. There is a place for every single one of us. Just so long as it brings you benefit of some kind is all that matters.
I was thinking about this today because of this article, a writer I never heard of and thought about how she writes. Her process and went to links of things she wrote. I try to learn something from every writer. How do the structure sentences. How do think about what they mean? I thought, since we’re all a bunch of writers maybe some of you would find value in this article – an interview of how she writes.
So what do you think about it all? Tell me.
Plus – thank you for getting to the end of this rant and listening to me yammer on . . .
Vanessa Grigoriadis—a National Magazine Award-winner who has written dozens of features for New York, Rolling Stone, and Vanity Fair, among others—is a writer that many of us can envy: Over the years, writing has gotten progressively easier for her. She writes at a freaky-fast pace. And her initial visions for her stories, she says, work out 75 percent of the time. Essentially, a writer’s dream. But Grigoriadis also shares what she finds are the hardest parts of the job and her various quirks (hint: elaborate procrastination), and how, once an aspiring actress, she came to choose writing instead.
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