I Can't Not Write
Eleven years ago I began writing for Pigdog. Prior to that, I had not written. Since then, I have not stopped writing. For a little while I wrote six Weblogs. I now maintain two: This one, and one focused on food, cooking, and cooking food, entitled, Adventures in Kitchen Alchemy
Hiding behind pen names, such as: Miss Conduct, Hope Chest, and Amanda Peckinpaw, I was frightened by anyone discovering what I did. After several panic attacks and one or two mid-life meltdowns, I can now accept that I am addicted to writing. So I submitted a couple of entries to a 99-word writing competition with a new writer's network called, 99fiction.
I am surprised by how much I enjoy the process of hacking apart my writing to few words, while still communicating the feeling of my tale. This went against my descriptively wordy Proustian roots: I am a fan of the ridiculous hilarity brought by hyperbolic redundancy. But it turns out that's usually an exercise in self-gratification. And I am here for you: The People of Earth.
Twitter has taught me more than I expected about the value of brevity and precision when it comes to writing. It's a poetic challenge to find the right words to slam-dunk anything from a comedic quip to an inspirational edict, or a combination of both, for example: 'Let the wind blow you', or 'Now with more everything', and a particular favorite, 'Brooms are sweeping the Nation'.
Hiding behind pen names, such as: Miss Conduct, Hope Chest, and Amanda Peckinpaw, I was frightened by anyone discovering what I did. After several panic attacks and one or two mid-life meltdowns, I can now accept that I am addicted to writing. So I submitted a couple of entries to a 99-word writing competition with a new writer's network called, 99fiction.
I am surprised by how much I enjoy the process of hacking apart my writing to few words, while still communicating the feeling of my tale. This went against my descriptively wordy Proustian roots: I am a fan of the ridiculous hilarity brought by hyperbolic redundancy. But it turns out that's usually an exercise in self-gratification. And I am here for you: The People of Earth.
Twitter has taught me more than I expected about the value of brevity and precision when it comes to writing. It's a poetic challenge to find the right words to slam-dunk anything from a comedic quip to an inspirational edict, or a combination of both, for example: 'Let the wind blow you', or 'Now with more everything', and a particular favorite, 'Brooms are sweeping the Nation'.