I opened my first blog account years ago but wrote so rarely that it really was more of embarrassment than a blog. This year, finding myself in the midst of a midlife divorce in a solid 2 by 2 community I had so much “alone” time that I started blogging in earnest. When I shared with Son No. 1 my excitement of being welcomed into the local blogging community and how I felt I was finally making a difference, he was decidedly unimpressed. Undaunted, I pressed him arguing that blogging was a tool for change and a segue to more serious writing.
He responded with scathing sarcasm and deadly wit.
I was connected. I was alive. I had a forum. It didn’t matter anymore if no one read about Don Heddersdown, the dashing hero of my creation, the lady-killer with the wit and breathtaking genius to foil the invasion plans of the most advanced alien minds. I had friends now, and I was helping to save my local library, selflessly I might add, as they had most ruthlessly refused to put my books into circulation. Though now those realities were of little consequence, my past failures matter for naught now. My unregulated thoughts funneled into the glow, every line equal to it’s predecessor, ancestor, progeny, descendant, all the same!
I was a star.
Spilling the Seed V4.0, © Steeltown Sickness 2008
Sigh.
