I had higher hopes.
I had higher hopes of a lot of little things, a little pile,
a stack, you might say, of everything needed to build a set of stairs.
So naturally I thought I'd be going up,
you know, in the way that stairs generally lead when you're on a plateau.
This was incorrect.
Proverbial first post
I had a blog before, or at least, a place a I stuck a good deal of my unedited writings with a few occasional updates that almost always sounded like a late package in the mail "on the truck", "on the way", "working on it", so as a result for awhile I had some pretty (I think) embarrassing work up there.
After forgetting to update it, and having a class that spoke about the dangers of self-publishing (and hilariously thinking that those poems I had up on my blog were something I wanted to publish [HA!]) I took everything down and no longer had an online presence.
And now here we are, wouldn't you know it, I even have a Twitter.
Which led me to something rather profound and entirely obvious:
When I'm connected online to people, it's easier to talk to them.
Which is important, I think, especially on the way I work.
See, I have this condition where I'm convinced I'm losing my mind, and really the only surefire way to organize my thoughts, or even make any coherence from them is to explain them to someone. This is fantastic for conversations, walks home, and small luncheons. It is however, nearly impossible to maintain this degree of order and well - simple productivity as a writer - when I am stuck in Fort Wayne, or Lincoln, Nebraska, or Vail, Colorado, Boulder, Telluride, Moab, Etc etc. etc. (I'm traveling a lot this summer) Thus, after reading a few blogs that my friends maintain, how could I not jump in on this and continue to reorient myself via explanation of everything I'm "thinking" about?
I couldn't resist, I tried.
I had a whole shower thinking about it,
and that's some honest thought right there.