“Write for the most intelligent, wittiest, wisest audience in the
universe: write to please yourself.” Harlan Ellison.
And I have tried
I have probably
failed at the first three hurdles, but always striven to do the fourth. That I
know because I write mostly in my own space, where I have control and where no
one can dictate, amend or edit what I have written.
My blog is my own
refuge, the castle of my expressed mind in writing, crenelated with moats and
drawbridges that makes reading but commentary difficult.
Commentary is
difficult not because people cannot comment, but I am quite exactly about the
quality, tone and context of comments left on my blog. I want to be engaged and
engaged in a way that we might agree or disagree without descending to the
point of being disagreeable.
I learnt to do this
I write to please
myself because I am under no deadline to deliver nor am I under obligation to
submit work for any remuneration. The views and opinions are mine and mine
alone, sometimes borne of introspection or derived from things that have
inspired me.
I learnt to love
writing much later in my life, I never liked writing in primary school and I
only entered one writing competition in secondary school where I claimed second
prize. I helped co-found a press club but soon got bored with the idea and
moved on to other things.
Looking at this blog
in its twelfth year, it is probably the only thing I have consistently done for
this length of time apart from breathing, sleeping and living. I sometimes feel
I have left it like a plant, a weed to grow wild, an empty house at risk of
going derelict and sense of unhappiness appears at time when I note I have not
fed the blog with new material.
Writer’s block
It is not like there
is nothing to write about, the mind is always in churn, the ideas are always in
thought, it is just the drive and the inspiration that put words in an order to
make a worthwhile blog that appears to desert me for hours, sometimes for days
and it has happened for weeks too.
For weeks, it is
usually the case of my having conceived something but decided the time is not
yet ripe for the piece to be written. I have had that occasion where waiting
for some time allows for another event or idea to overtake things and a better
blog ensues. Yet, after over 2,500 blogs I find it strange that none are left
unfinished in draft, ready to be revisited – I seem to write for the moment
rather than for the future.
Writing for my pleasure
I love this stuff and
I am still trying to master it, if it is ever intelligent, that will have been
a great attempt on my part, if it is witty, I might have excelled myself, if it
is wise, I will wonder what has overcome me, but for my pleasure, I am always
myself.
Daring as much as I
can dare and concealing enough to maintain a sense of mystery even with my predictability,
I hope I can still spring a surprise and that is how this blog began, seeded by
the quote at the beginning and finding pleasure in writing this with a smile.
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