Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Writers R Us



Let's see, continuing with my recent rant about writing, how I've tried to quit before, couldn't, came back, so on and on...

Yep, I think writing, as with other forms of art, is something that chooses us. Much like our pets. Never ever thought I'd be a writer. Especially with some of the stuff they force-fed us, like diagramming sentences. Now, I know there are folks out there who love it, but for me that was writing death. All those adjugates, reverbs, gerbils, and compunctions. Once I learned that I could write without having to know where the heck I was going, I had fun.

'Course, that also got me into trouble. Shorter pieces I can get away with not having a road map. Once I got started on my novel I'm wrapping up, I had all these Lego blocks of writing scattered everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. Fortunately, I have a wonderful wife who is also a wonderful editor. She tasked herself with taking all my scattered notebooks, files, discs, and scraps, and organizing them into a semi-coherent mass. Then I dove in and retro-fit an outline. Cussing a lot, however.

So, here I am. Still writing. Finishing up a novel. Writing in my writing-themed blog. And other projects planned after my novel is complete and out the door.

One foot in front of the other. With some grumbling and cussing occasionally.

It's what we do. And I love it.

New addition to my blog posts--I will leave you with a question to ponder.

What is the Oxford comma?

Answer in my next post.

Keep writing, friends.

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