And I'm still wondering where this blog is headed. I had wanted it to be a log of what I do, but that turns out to be problematic to those with whom I do things. Which is even understandable, it just has left me with nothing to blog about. The only person in the world that calls me Mum won't let me blog about her (yes, there is a little play of words in today's title). I can't even talk about compliments I received without violating confidentialities.
Cousin Phil emailed me that he finally read my review of his book on Amazon. He was amused that I had cleverly not revealed our familial relationship. I told him I was thrilled he didn't care, and immediately revised my review to reveal it. I even got bold and stuck in that Mothership parenthetical. Ooh!!
I explained my woes to Cousin Phil, and he responded with these quotes, which made me feel so understood I tweeted them immediately:
“There’s nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.” – Red SmithThat was the first time I ever conversed with another writer about writing. It was a moment. And one I can actually talk about!
“Writing is easy; all you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until the drops of blood form on your forehead.” – Gene Fowler
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
I feel like I'm just beginning
I feel like I'm just beginning to get my voice
I hadn't heard it yet myself
I can't believe what it is saying!
Which means I have no belief in myself.
Oh, but I do!
I so do!
I swear on every Bible!
I believe!
I prostrate myself before all that is holy
with no choice but to be a devout
Born Again
Believer
in my
Own Voice
No comments:
Post a Comment