Writerly Notions: blogs and purpose

tl;dr: I’ve tried various times to create and categorize writing (and related) blogs. But I can never maintain interest (except in ones I delete or revise the intention of). Until I know what I’m doing with my writing and my various categories of purpose (for me, for fairy tales, for sharing stories, for sharing experience), I won’t be updating this blog on a regular basis, if at all. Thank you to everyone who read and commented on my weird little posts. 🙂

At the beginning of the year (February, to be precise), I typed up an initial post, which has been on my to-do list for…maybe a year?, about this blog. And it’s various incarnations.

The central question was why? Why do I even have this blog?

It started as a place to post detailed responses to books I’m reading or have read. But my motivation and interest in that only lasted so long.

Then it was supposed to be a writing blog, with posts of my writing, especially my daily writing exercises. The trouble with that was two-fold: making sure I didn’t publish anything online I wanted to publish in some other way (and the added analytical sieving to make sure the stories or vignettes I post/posted were not something I wanted to publish in some other way) and a lot of what I would post/posted weren’t really that important. About the most important bits I’ve posted about my writing is my Writing Demons posts.

Then it was supposed to be a place to post my experiences, struggles, and thoughts as a writer. But doing that felt too messy for a blog, so I made a writing journal. But that has since ground to a halt. Likewise, this blog’s venue as a writing blog has ground to a halt. And my question is why?

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Writerly Notions: Experts and Imagination

So I was re-reading Histoire d’Aladdin ou la Lampe merveilleuse (as one does), and I was forcibly reminded that writers need to know what they’re writing about. If say, I write about a character baking a cake, I have to know what kind of cake they’re baking and, more importantly, I need to know how that cake would be baked. And that’s where experts and connections and all that is important. Knowing who to ask and getting input from people who know what they’re talking about. Experts.

But what I think is interesting is that I couldn’t write:

She baked a werthor from a bowl of leftover isluuma blossoms, dried up after last winter’s molt and stored by her grandmother. After all adding a dollop of yurna berry juice, with just the right thickness to keep the center stiff, she popped the feathery dough into the fire-orb, watching as it expanded into a firm round werthor.

Because it’s not based on an actually recipe or method of baking.

Rainbow Lights

Day 53: March 24 (written)

A gentle chill has crept into her hands. The sand in the hourglass has nearly been spent. Her mind, momentarily sharp, has dulled, a blade weathered by a century. Blinking, she peers into the light. A rainbow multitude, glinting like stars, wink and blur above her. She struggles to remember — a thought, a desire, a duty — but it’s like grasping smoke; it seeps through her fingers and she’s left wondering…filled with wonder at this dazzling sight, filled, somehow, with the memory of perfect joy, even if she cannot remember why.

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Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.

Winter Waking

Day 52: March 24 (written)

Snow falls from the sky. White and fluffy, it piles on pines and the pale bare arms of aspen. Beneath the dawn, partially obscured, the world gleams, blushing faintly like the softest pink crystal. It is peaceful. It is home.

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Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.

Perseverance

Day 51: March 24 (written)

He scorches the ground. Every blade of grass and petal of every flower bursts into cold white flames. Incinerated in an instant, a ruined field of ash is all that remains. But look! a sprout shoots rapidly out of the ground. It buds and blooms in the link of an eye. Hundreds of others join it. He scorches the ground again. And again. And again. And each time the enchanted grows back, fragrant with the sweet scent of roses and honeysuckle and lilac.

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Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.

Excess Dirt

Day 50: March 24 (written)

A clam spits out a pearl. Nasty thing. It hates getting grit inside and enjoys when the giant mess is gone. But, like clockwork, the huge stomping ones come, thrashing away in the waves to shove at one another to seize the clam’s expelled dirt. It watches every time and cannot comprehend them. What funny, preposterous creatures! To strive so hard to possess encased dirt that irritated it.

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Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.

Wind and Blood

Day 49: March 24 (written)

Wind howls across the abandoned estate. The lady’s once prized rose bushes are ripped from their foundation in the soil. Dirt and petals swirl in a madcap whirlwind with the look of blood: nearly black and weathered red. Soon the wind will reach the estate and the eviscerated wood and glass will be covered in the blood of the earth.

[60]

Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.

Waking This Morning

Day 47: March 24

A depleting ache consumes her entire body. Joined by a soft throbbing at the front of her skull, she knows that she needs to sleep. It is the same sensation when she’s half-awake and knows she’s not ready to wake up. But now she is awake and alert — but aching as if she still needs hoards of sleep. Worse, it began after she had collapsed from exhaustion last night (well, earlier this morning). Deeply asleep, but unfortunately, as usual, she had to put her book away, turn the light off…and after she had: head on the pillow, mind alert, head aching. And here she is in the morning.

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Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.