I have had this idea for a “story blog” for quite some time. (came up with that complex name all by myself--Impressive, no?) A place where I could write, push myself creatively and have others read it. The idea felt like a Yin and Yang of excitement and insanity. It stewed and festered in the "idea pot" in my mind. The problem with us creative types is that we dream and dream, and only come down out of the clouds long enough to look around to see if all our dreaming resulted in something actually getting accomplished. Many a night I have sat in front of my computer with every intention to just start, and have literally stared at my computer. Like, Homer Simpson-esq staring. As it turns out, if you have an idea, you must then DO something to make it come to fruition. I know, weird right?
My desire to do it has always remained constant. My reasons for doing it have been all over the map. To give you a quick tour of the inner workings of my brain, (and trust me, you WANT the quick tour), my reasoning’s went something like this:
“I like to write. I should write a story and post it where people can see it. Maybe get some feedback, some constructive criticism...yeah, I should totally do that.”
(Sometime later, with no progress and a need for motivation…)
“I should write a story blog, and then maybe, just maybe some famous publishing company will somehow stumble across my blog and be so wowed that they offer me a publishing deal. I could stash all my earnings in a hidden compartment in my closet, and forever and ever be able to buy as many shoes as I wanted for the rest of my life and no one would know how I was doing it. Oh man that would be so awesome.”
(Some more time later, at Yoga class, sitting in Child’s Pose…)
“What is my problem? My diabolical and genius plan of being able to buy endless shoes is going to be way less fun if I can’t implement it till I’m 80.”
(Some even more time later, brainstorming my idea with my mother over lunch…)
Mom: (raising an eyebrow at my writing exercise/shoe conspiracy idea) "You should do this. Speaking as a reader, I want you to do this."
Me: I've lived in your uterus, i think you HAVE to say that.
Mom: If creatively you have something to say, what's the hangup about saying it?
(Weird how your mom can always cut through the nonsense and get you to do something productive, even when you’re old and grown.)
Truly, this will be an exercise in writing, and a place for me to both express myself and grow as a writer. Yes, I am a writer. (I’m trying to say it more) I mean, why not? Why don’t we get to define ourselves? Why must we wait for the world to define us by their standards? We are always waiting on other people to tell us when we are a good student, a good daughter, a good son, a good friend, a good person. What if we just know ourselves, and call it how we see it?
Creatively, this story blog is exhilarating. As a human, it’s nothing short of completely terrifying. Many of you, who will hopefully be reading this, read my own personal family blog. You should know that many a post is me up late at night—
Bordering on giddy with the sounds of silence and solitude, I’m totally okay with the fact that I'm probably just amusing me as I’m typing and chuckling to myself. It’s an outlet and it’s fun and quite honestly, kids are so hilarious and real, I rarely have to try very hard.
But this. Well, this feels a bit like that awful dream where you end up at your high school and somehow arrived with no clothes on? There’s a moment in that dream where you’ve noticed you have no clothes, but no one else has noticed you just yet in your birthday suit. It's a small, slow motion moment where you wonder if there is any way to get out unnoticed and fix your slight oversight. No harm no foul. But inevitably, just as your dream-self thinks it, that first person sees you and then it’s all pretty much downhill from there.
Yes, this feels a bit vulnerable, a bit like reaching that point of no return in your naked dream where you come to terms with the fact that you did this. You’re the idiot who came to school with no clothes. Why in the world did I not get dressed this morning?, you think to yourself. Nothing left to do now but go to your classes and try and make the best of it. Maybe people will forget by tomorrow and things will just go back to normal.
Yeah, because that could totally happen.
The Story Blog idea is based on a writing exercise I did in my Creative Writing, my senior year in high school. Every day we'd sit down and Mrs. Whitehorn would have a different word written on the board. (Mrs. Whitehorn seemed to be like 20 years past retirement, didn't take much nonsense, and taught me much. I miss and think of her often.) From that word, we would relax our minds, quickly write the first associations we had with that word, and from those first initial thoughts, construct a short story.
And as they say, "that's where YOU come in." That's right, you. Think long and hard (or not, how am I gonna know?), of a word and leave it in the comments. On a rotating basis, I will use them and that one word will be the jumping off point-the inspiration if you will, of a short story. Each story will consist of at least 3 posts, and dedicated to the one who's word I used.
I'd love comments whenever possible on the story blog. A huge part of this is to see if I am making the connections I want to, are things coming across clear and coherent, are you enjoying yourself? It can be a paragraph, or it could just be as simple as,
“Good.”
“Enjoyed it.”
Or
“Total garbage.”
The feedback would be super helpful and maybe your comment would bring enjoyment to someone else. Maybe it’s possible to solve the world’s problems one blog at a time, one comment at a time.
What?? You don’t know.
If you choose to read and not comment that’s also fine. Just know that I will know, my soul will be crying silent tears, and I’ll be eating chocolate to fill the hole inside. But you know, whatever you think.
Even more than being critiqued, I really just want to write something people will enjoy. To have joy in being creative. To put something out there that people would look forward to reading, and really strengthen my "voice" in my writing. Man. All the chocolate in the world wouldn’t come close to something like that.
(Click here for The Story Blog.)
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