Monday, February 20, 2012

Wanting to Write Again

[Hm. Blogger won't let me add an image right now...]

Today Marz of smoothable and I agreed we would blog once a day, until March 1.
That's only nine days, but I'm hoping it jump-starts me to write something real again.

Since last spring, mostly I've been writing only on Facebook, which is not writing at all.
For a while now, I've been complaining--often and bitterly--about how lightweight and thoughtless FB is--sometimes sinking to the level of youTube comments.

It's ridiculous: I know I'm complaining that a sheep is not a horse. FB is not even designed to carry weight.
And anyway, then I go and don't even write where heavyweight and thoughtful stuff is fitting.

I'm not sure why I haven't been writing.
Partly the reasonable reason that I've been busy with Marz, since she moved here from Oregon in July, after walking the Camino with bink and me.
Partly, I think, I needed some fallow time after the long, gruesome task of writing the history of social networking book.

At any rate, I want to try again.

A couple posts by bloggers remind me why I even want to bother.
Stacia, of She Blogged By Night, wrote one of the best things I've ever read about the "gut-wrenching emotional turmoil" of wrestling with wanting to write, in her post "Matter of fact, it's all dark."

It's both painful and funny that it was her love for [the young] Neil Diamond that evoked an "ill-defined feeling of having forgotten something important..." and brought her to acknowledge, "I want to write and I want to be good at it...."

And then, she writes,
"After spending about an hour laying in the hallway, staring at the ceiling and tightly hugging Dark Side of the Moon because I failed to get a firm hold on this post -- it took me weeks to manage the final sentence -- I wonder how hard this is going to be."
She reminds me that my invented Captain Kirk Academy for the Pursuit of Excellence is funny, maybe, but it's not a joke. I do want to be excellent.
Why not admit it?
Why not?
I suppose it's mostly because I fear the indignity of failing at such a lofty goal.

Which is why, for Christmas, Marz cross stitched for me Tobias Wolff's advice to writers:
"Take No Care For Your Dignity"

Second, in her post . . . and i’m a mormon, Emma, of imaginary bicycle, responds to a friend's question, "Why don’t you choose a religion that fits you better?" (a question I, as a Catholic, have also heard).

Emma writes, "What I have to say is so huge, how can I ever say it and be heard?"

(I'm not sure, but Facebook isn't the answer.)

Then she goes on and says something huge, something true, and I heard it. And I thought, I've missed doing that. Or trying to do that.

So,... here I am.
Since I can't post a picture, here's Neil Diamond in concert, in 1971, from Stacia's post. I always thought of Diamond as smarmy, but he's weirdly... excellent here.


Stacia said...

Thank you, Fresca, for your very kind words. And I think the Captain Kirk Academy for the Pursuit of Excellence needs a blazer badge or some kind of membership card.

By the way, Dark Side of the Moon is Pink Floyd, it's what I was listening to when I was struggling with that post. The title "Matter of fact, it's all dark" is from the album. Yeah, I know it doesn't make much sense, my mind does not work in a linear manner.

Fresca said...

What a good idea, Stacia, to make a C-KAPE badge... Must get on that!

Whoops, thanks for the correction--shows how much I know about Neil Diamond... or Pink Floyd. (Though I grew up hearing them on the radio all the time, I never paid close attention.)

Stacia said...

I didn't know anything about Neil Diamond until recently, either. If someone had asked, I would have said I liked "Cracklin' Rose"... which isn't even the correct title of that song!

Emma J said...

Hey! thanks for the link. It surprised me today strolling through your latest posts -- I hadn't known before because I've only been snatching on-line moments on the fly. But thanks.

And I agree. It is good to have a place for weighty words, yeah? They've got to go somewhere or they make us crazy.