Random Writing Thoughts

I am always late.

 

I didn’t learn to tie my shoelaces until I was in 2^nd grade.  Believe me, it helps when you have a really good friend who doesn’t judge you as she ties them for you during recess.

 

I didn’t experience my first kiss until I was 21.  Well, first real kiss.  A kissing booth at a church does not count and, in hindsight, is completely absurd.

 

I didn’t put myself out there as a writer until I was 39.  Even then I did it backwards.  Perhaps I should have blogged for a while and then released my e-books, not the other way around.  Either way, I did it and no one can take that accomplishment away from me.

 

Now I wonder what kind of writer I am.  Surely not mainstream, but not cool/edgy either.  Goofy is typically the word I use to describe my scribbling.  Rarely serious, because I’ve learned that when I write with serious emotion, I am often misunderstood.  Maybe too many of my other writings are full of levity and satire, or perhaps I can’t write strictly serious.  My soul might not be deep enough and my agile tongue continually aims for my cheek.

 

Then I wonder what genre my fiction veers toward.  Satire isn’t completely accurate, because while there are satirical elements in my e-books and blog fiction, they are not just satire.  I hate the notion of one book being one thing.  Life is not one thing, so how can a representation of life be labeled one thing?

 

I guess I write what I write.  If people read it, that is awesome!  If people don’t read it, that is their loss.  Besides, it wouldn’t make a difference.  I would continue to write since I write for myself.  Been doing so since I learned to tie my shoes.

 

 

Be well and Freak Out,

JLH

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