I’ve blogged now for a whole year.
Translation: I’ve kept up with one thing for a whole year.
Yep. July 12. This blog’s birthday.
I planned to repost some earlier writings this week to celebrate.
Maybe I’ll tweet some links to some of my favorites or top hits.
I wrote some good stuff during this year–but also some bad stuff. Some fun stuff, some serious stuff. Some prose, some poetry. Tried to dig a little. Make myself bleed. Looked for my voice. Fought for my voice. Tried to not try so hard.
Tried to discipline myself to write. And found I need to discipline myself not to write.
Learned not to be so hard on myself for being a woman of many interests. Because really, maybe, hopefully that makes me more interesting as a writer.
And writing is my passion. I know this now.
Over speaking. Over harping. Over singing. The music that begs to come out is not notes, but words. And words that sing better on the page than through the air.
At least I think so.
I started a writing blog about six months ago.
So now I have two blogs.
Some folks even follow them. And some folks take time to comment.
I developed cyber friendships as close, I believe, as any face-to-face. And all over the world. Heart-to-heart friendships. Other writers. Other seekers.
And quite possibly some of those are people I might not have given more than a head nod to had I not gotten to know them through their blogs.
I’ve found joy in poetry, dabbled with my camera, and maybe found even a call to fiction–all of which surprised me.
And acted like I have a clue.
“@noveldoctor (Stephen Parolini) tweeted, ‘If you want to write what you believe, write nonfiction. If you want to tell the truth, write fiction.'”
“There’s so much truth to that statement,” she said. “A work of fiction sometimes gives us a level of protection and allows us to tell a greater truth we may not be ready to write as nonfiction. The best writers are brave souls indeed.”
Copyright © 2010 by Sandra Heska King