I think it's time for a make-over. Not a "Woman's Day" or Regis & Kelly-inspired make-over, that includes before and after photos, but a focus make-over. I need to overhaul. I need to dig deep. I need to branch out.
I need to decide what I'm going to do with this blog.
The snippets of stories, the one-liners, the beginnings, the middles, the ends, the choppy dialogue - it builds up in my head, and sometimes it ends up in my journal. My writing journal. The brown leather, gold-trimmed journal my mom gave me for Christmas several years ago. Always written in with my Waterman pen that my sister, Kelli gave me for my 30th birthday. My best thoughts should be penned into my best journal with my best pen. Then hopefully those thoughts get expanded on an external drive that I plug into my 7-year old Dell desktop. With any luck, and a few quiet moments when the kids are all in bed, or at school, some of them end up here, in my blog.
Sometimes I feel like this is the perfect place for me to express myself. It gives me a large viewing area to actually see my own thoughts better. Best of all, it gives me a forum to share what I have written. Writing is informative. Writing is story-telling. Writing is expression. Writing, like any craft, is personal and those of us who feel driven to pursue our craft do so for our own enjoyment and satisfaction. But like any art form, it can only truly be considered art, or be successful, if it is shared. Imagine if the Mona Lisa had been locked away in an attic, never to be seen. What if Mark Twain had never written Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn? We would view all artwork and American literature differently. I'm not saying that I will write the great American novel, or that my work is worthy of the Louvre, but in order to be a writer I have to do more than write. I have to write something that has to be read. It may not have to be read by millions of people, or even thousands or hundreds. But it needs to be read.
So far I have only shared my blog with a few select people. Except for three people, no one who has known me less than 23 years has been asked to check it out. I feel like I should open myself up and let more folks in. Sometimes I am motivated to send an e-mail out to a few more friends and family and ask them to check it out. But ironically I then wonder if I am being self-centered in assuming that these people - or any of you - would be interested in reading what I have written. For years I didn't understand the term "catch 22," but I think this is as close to living one as I can guess: I know that a writer needs to be read, but I don't know if I really want anyone to read me. Again, I'm back to, "What if people don't like what I write?" "What if I have waited all these years to write something and I'm no good at this?" "What if...?" But, if I don't put it out there, I'll never know. Catch 22...
O.K. - so I write and I ask people to read. That's established. They both must be done.
Now what do I write about...? Oh, yeah: What I Know! But what do I really know? I know that yellow and blue make green, there really is no every-day use for sine and cosine functions, Asian elephants are still on the Endangered Species list, gas prices are too high and Target offers a much nicer shopping experience than Walmart. I think everyone knows these things, too. If I am to write something that people will want to read, and will encourage them to keep coming back, then I must write about things I know that other people don't know. Or I must write what they know, but my take on it should be either enlightening or entertaining enough to spark further interest.
So what do I know?
I know what it is like to be a middle child.
I know what it is like to be an abused woman.
I know you can like someone and not love him/her, love someone without liking him/her, but the best is liking those that you love.
I know the joys of motherhood.
I know the physical pain and personal satisfaction of natural child-birth.
I know the frustration, anger and disappointment of being lied to.
I know the taste of tears of happiness, sadness and fear: my own, my husband's and my children's.
I know that I am not an efficient or nice person when I am sleep-deprived.
I know that tequila makes me horny.
I know that I want to write and I want people to read it.
I go through spurts where most of my thoughts are about everyday life and how I see it, and at other times most of what drives me to write are scenarios that need to be played out in much larger and longer drafts and formats. I see myself finishing at least one novel some day. I believe there might be a few in there, brewing, growing and waiting to be explored. I even have a piece I've started that I envision as a play. I never thought of myself as a playwright, but this particular subject must be a play - for me it can't be completed any other way. I have a mystery/crime drama, a comedy, a few children's stories, and a few pieces of poetry. Hopefully before I'm dead a few of them will come to light and be on paper, preferably bound skillfully, and displayed conspicuously on a table at the front of Barnes & Noble. (Except for the play, that is. That will be rightfully "played out" on Broadway!)
I know a lot of things and I can't fit them all on this one page, but I can start to fit them in one post at a time. My make-over begins today with a few changes to how I present my writings in my blog. I want to have a more cohesive trail of my writing, so for those of you that do choose to come back now and again, it might make some sense to you. At the very least it should make you glad you took the time to read it. I began my early posts with a brief description, and then just started posting pieces with their titles and no explanations. Some could use a little intro or out-ro, and I would like to be able to return to a subject at a late date and have it all feel familiar and be easy enough to follow. You, as the reader, are not in my head and can't possibly know how one topic relates to another, and you might also not be interested in all of what I have to write. With a little organization, I believe that I can write, and be read, with satisfaction.
This is all still a work in progress and will take a while to solidify what I want - need - it to do for me. But I'm still excited about sitting down here in this sort-of-comfy, high-back chair and tapping my heart out on this wire-less keyboard. So, come with me reader, and become engaged. Who knows - "What I Know" just might keep you coming back for more.