Sunday, October 14, 2018

Thinking or the Absence Thereof

Well, it seems a long time since I wrote anything of least to me. I know what I have to do but somehow I am not actually doing it.Such is the dilemma of a writer.

Are you actually a writer if you are not writing anything? I would think that actively writing is what makes you a writer. Writer implies the doing of the thing. Maybe author implies having written. So it is imperative to start applying the fingers to the keyboard.Of course, that might not produce much if the brain cells are also not involved and have been working also.

Oh dear, the problem also is that if the writer starts thinking about "writing", he or she becomes terrified. What? write? That's something so big and important that how am I going to even put word one down on this page? Well, excuses are very easy to come by. We seem to have a natural fount of them and they just come burbling up when needed. Too bad a plot doesn't come burbling up also.

So, I don't know what I will be doing next. Hopefully, I will write something more than the grocery list that I absolutely need soon. Does that give you a clue?

Monday, October 1, 2018

Passing the Torch

I suppose the phrase "Passing the Torch" refers to the Olympics. Runners run holding the burning Olympic Torch and pass it on to the next runner. Thus the torch is carried to the stadium and the Olympic Games begin.

We use it today, (or at least we who are older use it) to refer to passing the obligations on to a new generation to uphold the values and responsibilities of the previous one. Let's hope this still holds true today!

But what specifically I am referring to here is that Kelly, Allison, Stephanie and Brandon are beginning to write. Actually Kelly has been writing. But now this spans three generations. I don't credit myself here - I believe the desire to write is something inside us and hopefully, we can encourage it to be expressed down the generations. I would also mention my father, making it four generations. He was a great letter writer, sending letters back to Ireland faithfully, to let his family know how he was. Specifically, he wrote to Meta McFarland, his cousin, and got regular letters back again. When we heard she had passed away, it was a sad day for him, because she was the only family member who wrote letters.

These new writers can be read on "We Like Writing!", a new blog. It's just starting out, but I hope it will produce great things! Good luck, little bloggers.

Monday, July 30, 2018

How the Time Flies

It is now July of 2018. A year of strange weather - rain and more rain, cold days, suffocatingly hot days and a few nice days thrown into the mix.

Still getting used to a new place. After so long in one area it is hard to move. I just had the thought the other day that for some people they have a place that they identify as their home. At least, that's what they say, anyway. But maybe for some of us, there are many homes. Not just the four walls of a house or apartment. A place that has been home, that you identify as home. Somehow, there is something about that place that speaks to you and you can feel it, and you know that you are there and if you come back years later, I think you will still feel it. Maybe not the same, because places change and we change.

The place we were born and grew up in, at least that we remember, that is our first home. Then we begin to experience the wider world and we may find that there are places that we discover that awake something in us that might have lain dormant. Who knows why this is? We can wonder. Some might hint at past lives. Others might think we might be more fitted for that particular place. For instance, someone could look at a snowy mountain and want to ski down the slopes. Another might want to go indoors and get warm.

You can spend a short time in a place you fall in love with and remember it always. Or you can come back many times. It doesn't seem to matter. That place is your place.

I hope you find at least one place that gives you that special feeling - the feeling of coming home.

Thursday, March 29, 2018

New Year, New Place

After 27 years in one place, we moved. And we are now in a 55 Plus community, as they call it. It was time. Many younger people can be heard saying, "I'd never live in THAT kind of a place." Well, as the saying goes, "don't knock it 'till you've tried it." There comes a time when it suddenly makes sense to you. As do many other things in our lives! Oh, how I wish I had the wisdom of age when I was young and dumb! I think some people are born wise and Art calls them the "old souls." They may have been around before. The rest of us have to get knocked on the head enough times to shake sense into it. I think these reflections were somewhat prompted by rereading one of Robert Kiyosaki's books. He must have been one of those people I'm talking about, although he gives much of the credit for his intelligence to his mentor. Robert Kiyosaki, of course, writes on the subject of finance and understanding what you want out of life and how to get it.

We spent most of last year getting ready to sell our house, selling it, and then moving with tons of boxes. Writing had to go to the back burner, although I did take a writing course. I thought I was signing up for one class and then realized it was a whole series of classes so I just went ahead and did it. It is really a wonderful series so it was well worth it. I just felt at the time that I was running in place and wished I had more time to spend on it. However, as they say, that's life. I don't have anything to publish this year. I do have a few short stories but not enough to put together.

Anyway, I'm trying also to get to know this place we have landed in. It seems very nice, really, so far, after about a month. I'm hoping that it might inspire me. I suppose anything at all can. It's just getting to put something down on that darned blank page!