There, I admitted it. That is suppose to be the first step to recovery, but frankly I don't think there's much hope for me. I wrote a book, have written several magazine articles, numerous newspaper features...and now, this blog. What do I write about? What don't I write about? Humor is my favorite genre. Favorite topics? Scuba diving, Fuzzy and Woolley, R Bar S (our tree farm), traveling, old radios--anything and everything I find interesting, with the hope my readers will also. I tend to have a slightly skewed view of things; I'm not sure if this works to my advantage or disadvantage. I prefer to let you, the reader, make that call. In that regard, I love feedback. I can't speak for any other writers, only myself.
For me, I get a real kick out of writing and sharing with others what I've written. I feel like the kid in class that couldn't contain herself. Visualize this. I'm sitting in the front row of my second grade class, my left arm holding up my right arm--which is frantically wriggling as I profess-- "I know, teacher, I know." That's what being a writer--communicating the written word--feels like to me.
The other thing, I already alluded to--is I love to read, thus learn. I have only one complaint; it seems I can never find enough time to do both! As matter-of-fact, I recently read an interesting article about mindfulness. I had intended to blog about mindfulness and old radios today, but I guess it will have to wait...