The Fine Art of Writing

Nearly two years ago, I sat down in front of my computer to start a blog.  It seemed to me that it would be the catalyst to my success: all bloggers become famous, write best-selling books, and make millions through movie deals, right?  "Yes!  Of course!" an angelic chorus thundered in my mind.  So, as I said, I sat down and wrote the first of what was exactly one blog entry that never really went public and, obviously, never led anywhere.  Well Blogger, I'm back, and this time with a slightly altered set of goals.

Let me just start by admitting that I tend to over think most things in my life.  This unfortunate propensity toward fastidiousness has led me to many dead ends, I think.  Take the one and only blog post of 2010.  For some reason,  I had this image of creating an online anthology of staggeringly genius essays -- I believed that if I incorporated research and poetry and literature and all those wonderfully high-minded, academic things (even now, I have a tab up on my browser, so I can Google synonyms for "things"), I would capture the perfect essence of what I believed was my writerly spirit: a cross between Virginia Woolf and Susan Orlean.  Then I watched the BBC's new Sherlock Holmes tv series,  and I changed my mind about some things.

In the first episode of the series, we meet Dr. Watson who has returned from deployment to Afghanistan.  His counselor questions him early on about his blog and if he's keeping up with it.  Watson contends that he has nothing to write about (which we all know is about to change), and she answers back by pointing out the benefits of just writing down what happens to him every day.

Hmm, I thought as sat there engrossed in this modern reimagining of a Victorian favorite, maybe I'm expecting too much from the world of blog.  I realized that my ideals, which panned out to nothing, were maybe too high-falutin, too over blown for a medium that is really meant to be an on-line journal, albeit a public one.

The trouble really is that I like to write, and it tends to stymie me.  I've never really been a prodigy or anything like that.  I remember going to school with a girl who really was an amazing writer, and I would seethe with envy over her ability. The trouble now really is that there isn't much opportunity to write.  I'm out of school, and it seems that if I don't find time to practice somewhere, I'll lose the ability altogether.

When I visited New York this past spring with a friend to visit another friend, we suddenly found ourselves en route to a palm reader's den.  I say den because that's really what it was.  Her apartment was below sidewalk level, and we really seemed to find her because of a chance sighting of her rolling sandwich board. She told us, two of us,  fairly specific things.  I don't know how accurate she was or will prove to be, but it was kind of fun to speculate afterwards on the claims she had made toward our futures.  I, apparently, will be the mother of twins at some point.  Though I also to seem to not be headed toward marriage ... But what really floored me was that when I sat down, she took my hand looked at it and said, "You are meant to write."  Something along those lines.  How stunning!  How could she know it was important to me?  My friends were less impressed, as are others I have told.  It has been explained to me, by a concerned handful of people, that palm readers really gauge your reactions to things.  That's how they know they're on the right track.

And, of course, I know my friends are quite right. I don't really expect to wind up with a set of twins (but just in case, I have compiled a list of names-that-sound-cute-in-pairs), and I am sure that I may only make it to 89 instead of 90, but the clarity of that first statement resonates. I am meant to write -- whether I'm any good or not, whether I'm successful or not, whether anyone or no one reads what I write.  Language, in general holds such power over us ... obviously.  Writing is something I enjoy because it focuses my mind, but writing, and practicing writing, is important for everyone because it improves language and communication skills, fosters critical and analytical thinking, and nurtures creative and, I think, emotional development.  These benefits may not be found in all types of writing at all times, but they exist.  For real.

But now, this old computer is driving me crazy, and I think my exploration of blogging has come to an informal close.  Hopefully this run will be more successful.  Hopefully there will be a second entry.  And maybe, if I'm very committed, a third.