Formulaic

Formulaic. Certain things just are. Rap songs. They all sound the same to me. I am sure a rap lover would say the same of the Pearl Jam and grunge I grew up listening to in college. I catch it in my writing as well. Something happens and it is so easy to just write in my familiar dialogue style as I remember in my mind's eye what was said. I rarely edit much and most posts only take a few minutes to write so it is the easy way out. I can be a terribly lazy author most of the time. I am working on it, though. When I sit down to write these days, I want to come up with something interesting, introspective, and unique. I want to be creative. Comments on a post are a good way to judge whether something was hit or miss. And it also helps that I am mainly writing anonymously so I can write freely and expressively. I don't have my real name, email, or address plastered upon this blog. I learned that lesson long ago when my cousin googled me and was calling my father and complaining about everything I was writing. She always was the paranoid sort, but she was right. Most people don't stand on a downtown corner crying out to the whole world about their mental illness or drinking problem, or the embarrassing discussion with your doctor that day about m-a-s-t-u-r-b-a-t-i-o-n. "Crazy, I tell you," would be what a bystander would say and the police would soon be along to shoo you away or send you out for a psych evaluation.

What brought this on was that I was just reading this week's writings. These writings, for the most part, are distinctly different from the way I wrote for months about getting to know Rosa or the antics of George and the gang. I have been reaching into the creative grab-bag and pulling out better stuff these days. I think. I know some of you have commented on the positive tone my writings have generated, and yes, this is a reflection of my real life. "Things are better now than they have been your whole life," my father told me yesterday. And he was right. Things are better and I think it is coming out in my writings upon this blog. My only regret? That I hadn't toiled so long and hard on my book without being in the better frame of mind and life that I am in now. Just think of how better it could have been.

Excuse me. I have A LOT of editing to do on a labor of love of mine. My book. I may even start over. I have nothing but time on my hands these days.