EVERYDAY BLOGGER, EVERYDAY WRITER OUT LOUD

Hardly a day goes by that I don’t add another brick to the wall, another blog post into the black hole of the blogosphere.

As an Everyday Blogger, with help from my sharp readers leaving comments that become blog posts, I focus on finding a better communication form than writing.

But wherever it’s found, the written word has final say.

Fight me.

If you’ve got one admirer, this is the one:

Too often writing gets stuck in gear, in neutral; somehow it doesn’t move forward at the expected pace.

Sound familiar? Let’s call it life: somehow life doesn’t move forward at the expected pace.

Things get in the way. 

I’ve found a music partner in crime I’m making plans to play with: David (me) on guitar, Dave on alto sax.

Before we could set a date I cut my fret-hand pointer finger on glass when a platter broke in hot water.

Note to self: Don’t put thick glass platters in hot water, they may shatter and cut you.

Then I cut my fret-hand pinkie on a broken wine glass. I’m thinking I could be accident prone? (Hey Dave)

I’m getting in my own way.

 

Serious Writers

Serious writers write seriously about serious topics.

Seriously?

Why the serious face.

Here’s what I’ve accepted, and which I hope explains the kookiness of an everyday blogger:

I feel emotions and longings like anyone else, but I want them to be more.

More of the good stuff, less of the bad.

But the bad stuff casts a long, dark, shadow. And let’s be honest, it’s chilling.

No one wants to sit in a chilly shadow for hours a day, unless you’re an everyday blogger.

Then it’s all about pushing and pulling and warming up and believing. Believing what?

I believe every post I write has the potential of going viral and attracting sponsors bidding against each other to write Name, Image, and Likeness checks which I will apply in a most cautious and careful manner.

 

While I’m waiting I carry on as an everyday blogger scanning the horizon for story ideas with enough on the ball to make a blog post the way I like to write blog posts.

I like ideas that make me interested in knowing more, which leads to somewhere between 750 and 1000 words. (382 words so far right here.)

Will I ever see one of my scripts on the big screen, or adapted to a novel for some Hollywood scout to read and think, ‘This would make a great movie script.’

Will I ever see my cancer memoir, Beaver State Blues, in print?

Whether I do or not, the everyday blogger lays it down for one and all. Or one and none, counting me.

All I know for certain is there are people who read BoomerPdx in some God forsaken corners of the world and I refuse to add to the level of shit-talk they hear all day.

The everyday blogger is different than the everyday shit-talker; the main difference is I’m not a bitch and they are. Lol.

I believe there’s a want in the world for an everyday writer who spells out H O P E without getting weird about it.

 

Creative Blogger Getting It Done

If I don’t get anything else done using words besides this blog, I’ll be creative about it.

Sit around and do nothing? No problem.

Empty calendar? Check.

Hear the world’s heartbeat? I’ve been wondering about that sound. I thought is was a leaf blower.

Find stories and words to inspire? Always looking.

Got enough space? This is where everyday blogger shines brightest.

 

I moved my blog composing time from a front room with a big window to the back of the house.

I wanted my wife to know I wasn’t a hermit who needed help socializing.

So there I was for a few months with laptop on lap desk with gas fireplace warming the winter air.

I got a little too social, listening to and commenting on her phone calls.

Now I’m back in the cold office in isolation.

 

Me: Sure, I’ll go back to the office, but as far as isolation? You’ll be in there getting stuff and making excuses to get more stuff and you know it.

Wife: And how do I know it?

Me: Because I’m a babe magnet and the attraction field is too strong for you to keep away.

Wife: I see. Has this happened before?

Me: All the time.

Wife: How can you tell?

Me: Let’s start with us. Remember the creative way we spent our lunch hours before we were married and the way . . .

Wife: Okay, we don’t need a review.

Me: Or the time we . . .

Wife: You’re getting sassy today.

Me: Just saying you are welcome in the office whenever you want whether I’m here or not.

 

Family Writer

As a father and dad to two boys I’ve hoped I rubbed off on them.

Some things more than others, but why not encourage them to write like their old man?

My youngest comes up because his mother, my wife, found a paper he wrote and turned in as a sixth grader.

 

MY FAMILY

My family is like other families and unlike other families.

 

This is what I’m hearing:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

 

He’s now thirty-three with a wife and kid of his own and learning more about time than he ever wanted to know.

We all get it.

First, time is dragging past and all you want to do is get out of science class in eighth grade where you’re looking out the window at the football field where you’ll be practicing after school.

But class never seems to end.

Then you’re forty-six, almost forty-seven, unemployed, well traveled, sawing wood, working out, and spending time with the family while the clock hands spin like a window fan.

Do your best, no complaining, and you might slide in and out of your sixties like you know what you’re doing.

Then what?

Everyday blogger says write it down. Start now.

Have you started yet. Here’s a writing prompt:

Once upon a time . . .

You take it from here on out.