Or: Writing Has Made Me Bad at Blogging
|I hope that this image makes |
sense in five years.
And I was all like, Great! Now I have something to post tomorrow that is already written!
And I was happy.
But then I opened the post and realized that I needed to add just a tad bit more to the beginning in order to set the scene and needed to add just a wee bit more of a conclusion to make the post hold its own.
So I wrote.
And I wrote some more.
And I wrote a wee bit more than that.
And suddenly the intro and conclusion that I wrote dwarfed the three paragraphs that I was going to use as a post.
And then, instead of a post, I had this whole big... thing. This thing that was much more than an account of the people that I saw at the movie premiere. It had taken on a much larger frame and become about something. And the things that didn't have to do with that something? I pulled them aside to be about something else.
But whether it was the something, or the something else, I realized that I had much bigger fish to fry than just simply adding an intro and conclusion (wee and tad as they may be).
It is the little things. The little things that you don't realize are actually inherently funny or jarringly telling until you consider them later. Moments you were going to include as a brief aside suddenly become more than moments. They become insights, explanations, lessons.
It is incredible how much happens in life. Boring and mundane thoughts and actions are actually completely interesting, once given thought. Since I started writing, I began to realize how much can be said about these forgettable moments, but it wasn't until tonight that I realized how much they are going to drive me insane. Because once they are realized, they beg... no, demand... to be written and included.
They need to be written, right then and there. To be put into existence, put on paper. It doesn't matter what you planned on writing or finishing, the somethings and something elses are going to keep coming. And if you want them to keep coming, they do so on their own terms.
And sometimes, they demand to become posts of their own. As brief, seething, inconclusive, and abrupt as they might be.