This is a make or break proposition for me.
You see, I lack the “boldness gene” so commonly found in other people. Not really sure why. You’d think some equivalent could have been programmed into me at an early enough age so that, by now, no one would be able to tell the difference, least of all me.
So here I sit, facing a keyboard, words just spilling out of me like raw sewage during a flood run-off, while I hear voices in my head, both creative and destructive. The creative ones assure me that whatever it is I slap on the page will be something worth reading. The destructive ones assure me that no one will give a pair of shits about it.
And I know which voices usually win.
But this time, and possibly because of the 11 cups of coffee I’ve had since I woke up today, or maybe because I always feel an overcompensating hopefulness after my fourth and last 14 hour shift of the week, that for right this minute… and this minute only… I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.
I know, if you’re reading this, you probably write one. I have one, but don’t. Not in the truest meaning of that made-up word. Blog. Weblog. Serialized Cyber Screed. Not to denigrate the medium or anything but, as humans, we mock what we don’t understand, right? We know it’s wrong, but we do it anyway. Hell, I’m mocking myself, right now. But as a writer… as an author… maybe the only thing that keeps me from falling into the quicksand of isolation is the mockery of introspection. Wherein I bang on the keys like I’m having a conversation with myself, and a few friends read it.
Knee-deep in their own quicksand.
So I’m gonna try this again. Blog. Weblog. Just a conversation with myself, every so often, where the voices in my head battle it out for Cyber Screed Supremacy. And I have the right to mock them, for your enjoyment.
© Copyright 2016 William S. Friday