WHAT’S PLAYING: The Monkees “D.W. Washburn”
We’re halfway through the outage, and I can’t remember ever being this tired. (I’m sure that I have been, I’m just too tired to remember.) Maybe it’s the the six twelve-hour work nights a week, the lack of sleep, the constant press of humanity, or even the new diet. Or maybe it’s the fact that I signed up for not one, not two, but three writing classes, all starting this month.
To borrow – and butcher – a line from Dean Koontz: I must be crazier than a syphilitic suicide bomber with mad cow disease.
Seriously, why would a sane person add three major commitments to an already overloaded schedule? Well, to put it simply: I’m a writer. Think about it. It takes a special kind of insanity to spend months – if not years – sweating and fretting over a project only to send it out into the world to be rejected, mocked, and ripped to shreds.
Rita Mae Brown said: “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results.” But that’s exactly what writers do every day. And thank goodness for that. Because if they weren’t persistent to the point of psychopathy, there would be no Harry Potter, Stephen King‘s Carrie, Lord of the Flies, or a dozen other books that have changed the world.
So, the short answer is that I signed up for these classes because I love writing and want to do it better. I started this blog to connect with people, namely future readers, and I want to deliver stories that will keep them coming back for more. Blog or books, whatever the medium, I want to make my readers think, laugh, feel, and most importantly, keep reading.