Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Note To Self

I don't know how to do this.

Let me be clear. Not transparent and fragile like a window, per se. But explicit. Direct. Unambiguous.

I am not qualified to write the story of my life.

I've had little official or professional training. My college experience was littered with good intentions and unfulfilled yearning for courses of intense study, practice, and development of the art of writing. I've had a few stints here and there-- my "record"-- of assignments, accomplishments, if you will. I did not work at the college newspaper or on the yearbook staff. I've held a number of jobs with variegated duties, but none of which should be listed on a resume as writing experience. Sure, I wrote a few articles for the Davis Food Co-op News, sprinkled in a letter to the editor here and there, wrote for my current employer's employee newsletter (and experienced that glorious ecstasy that only a severe scrubbing by an editor can provide; followed by the whittling of my content down to the bare vanilla bones, removal of any independent or creative thought in a hypersensitive attempt to avoid controversy (gasp!) or allow un-homogenized thinking to be encouraged (nay, condoned?) to the drones of the hive... Uh... there I go again. Where am I? Am I still in a parenthetical phrase? Is there anybody else here with me? Let's see... blah blah blah... oh yeah-- press "shift-zero"), but never have I held the title of writer. Not even in a qualified manner, like "technical writer," or "grant writer;" "travel writer," "copy writer," ... type-writer...

Anyway. I cannot prove my worthiness of your trust as you join me on this journey to the center of "me" (and back, hopefully...). But I can tell you this: I am the only one that has been here, with "me," every day of my life. I've even been paying attention a fair amount of the time. I don't think anybody else can make that claim. Okay, so they could, but not with any degree of veracity.

Read on, if you must. I know I must write.

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I was going to explore some parallels that I've noticed between the current presidential campaign and my own personal campaign to transform my life into more of what I desire it to be... But after that bowel movement of a paragraph above nearly split me like a rack of mutton (to borrow from Tom Robbins), and upon further contemplation of the subject of politics, I realize the wiser path to take, either holding hands with Robert Frost or playfully riding piggy-back, is the one less taken. I think America's media conglomerate has got the politics angle, if not fully covered, at least buried under tons of something. So. Dietary fiber, and onward...

A friend mentioned a word during a discussion of writing the other day that usually has the effect of me breaking out in some sort of highly disturbing rash-- Research. (Sorry, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.) But what better way to build a set for one's play, to breathe life into a place and transfuse it with life, movement, and culture, than to flesh out some details (um, facts?) from the collective literary perception?

Ew, I do so resist the act of being scholarly. The cheeks of my backside start to cramp as I imagine my pedantic march to the library (yikes! the "L" word!) to wrestle with Dewey Decimal. But she's right (oooooo-- I hate that!), and my tendency to want to sit at my comfy writing station and just open the tap and let all that life-knowledge flow freely onto the page, and leave all that, er, work for another time... well, it's just not enough. Even to this point in this particular entry, I've requited the assistance of my dictionary to make sure I'm typing the words that display the intention of the meaning at which I've aimed. But there is so much more to be added...

So I've plucked some other books from the stacks in my personal libr-- uh, collection, that I hope to utilize. In it's current state, it's as if my story is a large, simmering cauldron of stew, and looking down into the surface I see a bubble here, a carrot there... if I take a large spoon and give it a stir, there's no telling what's gonna reveal itself on the surface.

And that's what keeps me writing-- the mystery.

And (hopefully) keeps you reading...

2 comments:

David said...

Research is something that most people avoid before they have a verbal case of diarrhea to satisfy their ego............(another "L" word-Luanne)

Gerri said...

I eagerly await each segment of your writing. I keep my dictionary handy!