the strange planet inside my head
I got my Myspace layout from pYzam.
Mood:
hungry
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pebble in the pond
wow... the wind is howling and whistling, it's dark and dreary looking outside. we're supposed to get thunderstorms too. it's almost like early summer weather and here it is only march. spooky...
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i revised and shopped out four pieces yesterday. i havent written anything new since last week; i really need to work on that. i'm not very prolific as a writer (although i have over 60 pieces done) and i seem to have a problem with the longer works. The Blood is the longest thing ive written, actually, at about 4300 words. im much more comfortable with flash or short fiction, and the essays usually come easily to me.
the prompt this week is to describe and interview your inner critic. this has been very difficult for me to do. my inner critic often has the same voice and appearance of the ex... but not always. i find it hard to be objective about anything i write.... but i think it must be the same for all writers.
i went to my favorite chat room yesterday to hang out for awhile because i felt so yucky. the rooom is always a hoot and a half, and i was right to do it. i came away with a smile on my face; it got really ridiculous and funny, it reminded me of the mad hatter tea party... "Clean cup clean cup! Move down move down!" *laffin* one of the girls in there told me she's written twelve chapeters of her life's story... and that i was the one that inspired her. that just blew me away, for real. she said she was so impressed by the essay she read (in Sassee magazine, for those who are interested, the Feb/Mar issue) that she decided to write her story. yes, i sat there with my mouth hanging open thinking this girl needs to get out more... but it was one of the best compliments i have ever had. not bad for a girl with only a high school education and nine college credits (garnered at the old age of 40.)
****
i pop in and out of journals here on this site, and it's fascinating to get a peek at other people's lives. i dont often leave a comment unless something really moves me; i get the impression from some that they dont want to acknowlege they are writing for an audience. i try to be as open as i can here and not let the idea of an audience put a limit on what i say or how i say it. i do think that every person, every last man, woman and child is looking for an audience. people are hurting, people are reaching out and just want someone to hear them. really HEAR what they are saying, what they are feeling. it seems to be the common thread among all these journals, the need to communicate, the need to have feelings validated and recognized.... the need for someone to say YES! i have felt that way too! the desire not to be alone in the dark.
sometimes there's more to be learned in what people do not say as much as in what they do. i can hear fears, joys... journeys taken and confrontations avoided. i wonder too what people get out of the words i write here. the pebble in the pond... and i ruminate upon the effect we all have on each other's lives and how connected we all are. pretty deep stuff for first thing in the morning.
****
i revised and shopped out four pieces yesterday. i havent written anything new since last week; i really need to work on that. i'm not very prolific as a writer (although i have over 60 pieces done) and i seem to have a problem with the longer works. The Blood is the longest thing ive written, actually, at about 4300 words. im much more comfortable with flash or short fiction, and the essays usually come easily to me.
the prompt this week is to describe and interview your inner critic. this has been very difficult for me to do. my inner critic often has the same voice and appearance of the ex... but not always. i find it hard to be objective about anything i write.... but i think it must be the same for all writers.
i went to my favorite chat room yesterday to hang out for awhile because i felt so yucky. the rooom is always a hoot and a half, and i was right to do it. i came away with a smile on my face; it got really ridiculous and funny, it reminded me of the mad hatter tea party... "Clean cup clean cup! Move down move down!" *laffin* one of the girls in there told me she's written twelve chapeters of her life's story... and that i was the one that inspired her. that just blew me away, for real. she said she was so impressed by the essay she read (in Sassee magazine, for those who are interested, the Feb/Mar issue) that she decided to write her story. yes, i sat there with my mouth hanging open thinking this girl needs to get out more... but it was one of the best compliments i have ever had. not bad for a girl with only a high school education and nine college credits (garnered at the old age of 40.)
****
i pop in and out of journals here on this site, and it's fascinating to get a peek at other people's lives. i dont often leave a comment unless something really moves me; i get the impression from some that they dont want to acknowlege they are writing for an audience. i try to be as open as i can here and not let the idea of an audience put a limit on what i say or how i say it. i do think that every person, every last man, woman and child is looking for an audience. people are hurting, people are reaching out and just want someone to hear them. really HEAR what they are saying, what they are feeling. it seems to be the common thread among all these journals, the need to communicate, the need to have feelings validated and recognized.... the need for someone to say YES! i have felt that way too! the desire not to be alone in the dark.
sometimes there's more to be learned in what people do not say as much as in what they do. i can hear fears, joys... journeys taken and confrontations avoided. i wonder too what people get out of the words i write here. the pebble in the pond... and i ruminate upon the effect we all have on each other's lives and how connected we all are. pretty deep stuff for first thing in the morning.
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