Blog No. 26
I’m not sure exactly where I am going with this one, so bear with me. I think this is going to be another one of those catchall posts. Really though, other than one or two possible people the only steady readers I have are part of Adventure worlds so it isn’t very easy to gauge what people like or not. I can keep asking for comments, but again, I am left with my friends and fellow writers (and I think they pander to me sometimes, but I may just be paranoid). Though they are legitimate readers and deserve their opinions. I suppose until I can manage to get a following they are my audience.
I have heard many times both that you should or shouldn’t write for an audience. Really I don’t think I do (or will) other than to try and tailor my blog structure a bit. My writing will always be pure me. It will change but only in the way that I will change as a writer. It’s a natural path we all take (at least I assume it is). This blog is just what comes into my head when I sit down to write it (or a couple days before if something strikes me). As for my fiction, I get ideas that appeal to me and then try to not let them down with the prose.
I have spent a bunch of time over the last few posts writing about writing and randomness (the randomness of my writing mostly) and doing things. I try to be varied in what I write about, but I mostly write about me. It’s pretty fair though, this is my blog and I’m the one writing it. I’m just a little worried it may grow stale or boring if I don’t have a major topic to cover each week. The problem is that I’m just not that exciting.
I think I have been doing alright, but not really. It could be that crippling self doubt we all get (or at least most people I know get) or it could be that I am actually just boring and write boring things. I’m not asking for any response to that (especially since the only people likely to respond are my aforementioned friends). I am mostly just thinking out loud. Typing? Out loud. Whatever, I’m sure you get what I’m saying. Writing.
Speaking of my friends, I love them but sometimes I want to throw my phone out the window or into the Sarlacc pit or something (especially when I am actually writing). Most of the time I don’t get many messages but every once in a while my poor phone is overloaded with nonstop notifications. I struggle at the best of times to be social; when I am trying to get something else done I get irrational and start talking back to my phone as if it were responsible. In the end I have to apologize, I can get quite mean. I don’t want my friends to get the wrong idea and stop texting me or anything. I just get overwhelmed sometimes.
How does Starship enter into this whole rambling mess? “We Built This City” is a song I forget about sometimes but I really like it. It came on randomly on my itunes while I was scribbling down ideas for this post. As a matter of fact one summer my brother played it at least once a week (he is a musician who does the acoustic bar gigs). It was as good a start as any and since my blog is often just my typed out thoughts when I sit down to write whatever song comes on is somehow reflected in the writing. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. I’ll leave you to find the connection between the song and the post. I assure you it’s in there.
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Just a final note this week. Justin and I have failed for yet another month. I am trying to push out a part one of my next story in the next few days. The piece itself isn’t finished, but I am way behind and have to contribute something. The last I heard from Justin is that he is all but finished his first story and first post for his blog. This extra bit is meant as a public shaming for us. I know I feel badly and I’m sure Justin does too.
Ben Van Dongen 
One of my sons used to ride a school bus for two hours a day. He traveled all over the city. The bus driver had a tape player, and they all got to listen to We Built This City every day. Because he had no choice, my son learned to sleep/eat/read/write/dream on the bus and he has translated that to every situation. His surroundings no longer matter- he is master of his moments. He writes every day, a great rollicking adventure about a cavalry leader and the story goes on and on and on. He sings We Built This City around the house sometimes. Whenever I hear it, I think of him.
Two hours on the bus every day sounds terrible. At least he managed to make the best of it (and had at least one good song to listen to). I wish I had the dedication -or is it drive – to write like that. I am my own worst enemy when it comes to productivity. Being the master of his surroundings doesn’t sound half bad either.
That’s a nice memory to have connected to a song. Thanks for sharing.