I have been looking at the blinking cursor all day. Well, not all day but a big part of the day, trying to write something. I am at a point where I can hear the words whispering in my head in ghostly far off voices, but not materializing into typed words. All I can manage is to stare at the blinking cursor like a schoolmarm tapping her foot at me waiting for some brilliant prose to come spewing forth on the white page. It just isn’t coming today, so I closed that intimidating screen and found myself here.
There is something non threatening about blog writing. It is not meant to be the greatest words or ideas that the world has ever seen. It is not expecting to be the next great American novel. So far my blog has done none of that, it is not going to. It is a place for ideas about books to have a home. A place for me to share thoughts and observations. Mostly it is a place for me to share what I have learned. Like Carol Burnett said, “We don’t stop going to school when we graduate.” My blog is a classroom, a canvas, and a open page. Blogs are easy carefree sort of workings that allow people to connect over ideas and thoughts. They are meant to be conversations and announcements, but sometimes when you least expect it they are perfectly penned prose that leave you breathless wanting more. Wanting the rest of the story and asking, where can I buy the book?
I don’t know if my blog will ever grow into wonderful things worth expanding to book form. Right now I am just happy to have a place to write freely without judgement or recourse if the passages are not scintillating and grand.
It is just words and words are everything.