A friend of mind posted her experience on Facebook in reference to an earlier post she had since opted to delete. Apparently she had received a multitude of comments of the negative variety on the statement she had shared. (I don’t know what the original post was.) If I understood her correctly, not only were her feelings hurt by the replies, she was also upset that people had not taken time to understand what she was trying to communicate.
Read More →As previously mentioned, I’m writing again. I failed to make it clear that I’m writing fiction, not a pin loom weaving book. Sorry if that’s disappointing to my very few fans. Technically I’m concurrently writing an online pin loom weaving book. It’s not exactly organized, but at least I’m capturing and sharing the info I’ve accumulated on the subject.
Writing fiction is fun, funner than nonfiction. Both are a lot of work, both enjoyable. Maybe technical nonfiction has the advantage of being more quickly satisfying (an informative blog post only takes about 100 photos and the better part of a day). Writing fiction places the author in the position of a sort of demi-god. You have to make up a world, characters, and all the weather, laws, and situations. You have to make a lot of choices. And you’re not allowed to be boring.
When I got started on this current book, there was the initial excitement of jotting down all the possibilities—pages and pages of them in my trusty Mead Two-Subject spiral notebook (on sale for $2 because the calendar insert they included expired in 2005—a mistake I’m sure they won’t repeat).
Listening to some pop music recently, I noticed how little truth or value there is in the words of many of my old favorites. I particularly questioned “All I Need Is a Miracle” by Mike and the Mechanics. It’s a terrific song, upbeat, great walking tempo; not so heavy on Message. I mean to say, “All I need is a miracle, all I need is you”?
I would seriously avoid a person who needed only me.
I’m of two minds when it comes to finishing stuff—I both like and don’t like it.
I like finishing things I don’t like and don’t like finishing things I do like. Profound, eh?