So, what does a guy with way too much time on his hands and a penchant for words do?
He writes a blog, of course! (duh!)
That’s right! He sits down at his trusty typewriter, carefully inspects the ribbon, tests the return (just for the *ding*), and rolls in the paper.
“So”…
What a fantastic beginning, he thinks to himself. That one little word—two tiny letters—so small, so perfect: so.
“So, what does a guy with wayt…”
DANGIT!!! *indistinct shouting* *violent tearing of paper* *muffled sound of a bell* *children with mouths agape* *angry parents leading said children away* *911 calls placed*
Anybody who has ever tried writing something on a typewriter knows the anguished sounds of a typewriter typo. #thestruggleisreal
No, I don’t use (or really even own) a typewriter. My grandmother had one that I played with when I was little, but that was twenty years ago.
Nowadays I’ve traded my Remington in for a Lenovo. (I am also just realizing that that sounds like a back-alley, gun-for-laptop exchange. Don’t worry, I’m not out there giving firearms to any old Nerd Herder that offers me a deal on hardware.)
You see, the computer is the hero of the modern writer (professional or not). No, it’s not the spell-check or the grammar corrections that we appreciate (writers often hate those).
We love that one little key; that beautiful, slightly elongated button, which makes our lives so. much. easier.
Backspace.
O, how the poets of old would have envied us if they only had a clue how much easier writing would someday become!
It actually boggles my mind when I consider the possible historical implications.
(NERD ALERT!!)
How many more poems would Wordsworth have written / How many more plays from the Bard’s fabled pen / How many lessons from Plato and friends / if only dear Backspace were handy back then?
(FYI, I used backspace about 17 times during the composition of that.)
But for real! Imagine the writings we may have missed out on! Can’t you just imagine those things that never existed? (Can’t you..?)
I’m aware that being a writer may sound romantic to some, but I’m here to tell you, it isn’t.
Being a writer can be a pain, it can be excruciating, it can feel like a vaguely masochistic undertaking. Sometimes we hate it. Sometimes we let it rule our lives and make us into something nasty; something spiteful to others; something fueled by coffee and cat posters.
“So, stop and do something else,” some helpful person offers.
Not on your life…
I love writing. I don’t always love who I am when I write, I rarely love the things that I write, and I often hate the entire creative process (if one can even be found), but I love writing.
That doesn’t make sense?
Maybe not to you. But to me (and other crazies) it is very true.
So very true.
And sometimes too true…
But where else can one more efficiently impose his ideas upon the unsuspecting minds of the general public? Isn’t that the whole point of blogging? Of course it is!
So, what does a guy with way too much time on his hands and a penchant for words do?
He writes a blog, of course! (duh!)
…Now what?
“We’re past the age of heroes and hero kings. … Most of our lives are basically mundane and dull, and it’s up to the writer to find ways to make them interesting.”
—John Updike
Beyond the Garden 