ALL A-QUIVER: WALKING THE STRAIGHT ’N ARROW

Author's Note - I may be a day late, but at least I'm several hours early! Must count for something, no?

Word of the week: staunch /stônCH/ (hear it!) - adjective: a : watertight, sound; b : strongly built : substantial : steadfast in loyalty or principle - (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

Blabbing Into the Ether

A good friend of mine (whose word I trust and whose judgment I admire) suggested that I start a blog. You know, a place through which to draw in a potential readership, and allow others to get to know “the real me,” rather than hide away like a hermit holed up in a backwoods shack, computer at the ready and story ideas poised to spill . . . although how a yummy spiced cookie made from molasses, raisins, and nuts could ever become a writer, one can only speculate.

Cute, distracting puppy

Now, to be honest, I was reluctant—at first. I mean, everyone and his brother, and his brother's neighbor, and his brother's neighbor's dog were writing blogs (dog blogs?) about everything and all, and everything else, and every other thing, and some other stuff besides. Cyberworld was/is/has been/will always be crammed with blogs of all different colors, shapes, sizes, tastes, and smells. Well, all right. Not smells. Yet.

Point is: Blogs are everywhere! And they're all tumble-stumbling over one another in a desperate bid for attention like a gazillion puppies in one enormous cardboard box set out at some charity auction event.

Blah, blah, blah. . .

Of course I got to wondering . . . if I started a blog, would I end up blabbing into the ether like those staunch congressmen who deliver speeches to an empty room? Would I be wasting valuable time writing posts, hoping against vain hope that someone—anyone, dammit!—will read and comment on something—anything, dammit!—or at the very least throw his hands up—or throw something, anything, dammit!—while scoffing in utter disgust?

Who cared what I had to say, anyway?!

Well, before long (right afterwards, actually) my half-baked wondering hardened into semi-structured thought, like a purple marshmallow Peep after a bout of microwaving: Writing a blog could be like sending a finished novel out into the big, wide, and awesomely scary world—kind of.

What I mean is: the motivation for writing needs to be somewhat intrinsic—i.e. what level of satisfaction can an author gain by writing a good story, or even a somewhat entertaining blog post? Nice comments and good reviews are all, well . . . nice and good (respectively). But this type of feedback shouldn't be what drives a writer to write.

For those of you who aren't writers, please understand: A writer writes, regardless. It's an addiction; a creative one, a healthy one. One nearly impossible to escape from once hooked. And with the alluring power to manipulate one's native language in any way one chooses, who'd want to break free anyway? Writers create fantastic worlds and shape characters, mold scenes and direct events. Sometimes we even emotionally move readers. Oh, this addiction is strong, all right. And it's heady, and it's never a waste of time.

True writers love writing—every aspect, the good and the not-so-great—just as we love our friends and our families (and our pets!)—every aspect, the good and the not-so-great—even if we nary hear a peep (unless it explodes in the microwave), blabbing into the ether, be damned.

We write, because it's what we do. And we appreciate every unseen reader who happens to come our way.

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Photo credit for cute, distracting puppy - normanack - Flickr Photo Sharing - Creative Commons License

Photo credit for mask - Wonderlane - Flickr Photo Sharing - Creative Commons License