This is my rational for this blog: the great writers say that you have to write a bunch of crap before you write anything worth reading. I forget her name, but she was a prolific, brilliant writer who said that your first two novels are going to suck. I’ve wanted to write since I published my first Muppets Magazine when I was 9. I’m now 3 weeks away from my 44th birthday and I haven’t written anything, no thing, let alone a shitty first novel. So if that’s the case, I better get busy writing crap so at least I can write something worth reading before I die.
That is the romantic inspiration that is propelling me to write this, it wasn’t a broken heart, or an inspiring teacher, or some overwhelming compulsion to write what I feel, the thing that finally broke over 35 years of writers block is the permission to simply write crap. hmm. I was hoping for something more “fresh air story worthy”, but the fact is this is what’s working, so I’m going with it. The craziest thing that I don’t care what it is, I’m just excited its workings. Nothing else has. And I’ve tried everything. Literally (and literary). But those are stories for later. For now, I get to sit here and write and trust that by doing so, I’m wading through the crap to get to the gold.
If by some very off chance anyone is reading this, i suggest you head over to youtube until I get to post 1001. For some reason I feel there is going to be some thing magical about that post. The first reason is that it’s going to be my goal for this blog. I have to get to 1001 stories, posts, musings, or whatever they are. If I make that, that means I’ve written a whole truckload of crap and I I must have hit on something decent by then. I don’t have a second reason right now, I thought I did, but it’s gone. I’ll save it for another post.
Odd, this is quite liberating. Wish me luck.
wordstopaige 