Just A Note…

It was about nine years ago when a friend rolled her eyes as I launched into yet another story about… oh, I don’t know. It could have been about the powerful influence of my grandmother, it could have been about a poignant moment with my kids, or it could have been about a valuable lesson from my parents.

Or… it could have been about any number of things I’ve blogged about since. Chicken nuggets, junk drawers, or the smell of dirt. Deep stuff like that.

I’ve always felt everything has a story and I made my friend suffer through that belief! She would just say “Write it down!”, while vigorously pointing her finger at me.

She encouraged me to blog when I didn’t really know what one was. And when I did learn, I doubted anyone would care to read my family memories, daily observations, or nonsense about a finial from the floor lamp we had when I was a kid. (Yeah, a finial.).

She nagged until I wrote that first piece and had nerve enough to hit the “publish” button. Then, I sat back and waited to be ridiculed. I’ve never been a slave to good grammar and punctuation and I’ve never taken writing classes, so my stomach churned as if I’d just turned in a term paper. But, I was told I should write what I feel and not worry about the rest. So I did. And I do.

Writing is fun. I’ve always thought so. Having someone read what you write is even better. And when those who read what you write feel so strongly about it that they write to you, well that’s the best.

In nine years of posting bits of memories and such, I’ve gotten some great comments. What’s made the feedback special is that most has come from fellow bloggers. These writers understand the power of sharing a story and appreciate the fun and fear involved in the process.

As a nod of thanks, below, in no particular order (except I give a special shout out to Katelon Jeffereys because she was essentially the very first years ago to comment and has been supportive ever since!) are links to the blogs of some who have followed and supported my blogging all these years.

There are also many other familiar names I recognize as followers, in addition to the one-time comments from random readers just passing through. I appreciate them all. Support means everything.

Encouragement from the folks below often came at times when I thought I had nothing left to write about. (Then I’d notice something magical… like a doorknob… and think, hmmm, there’s probably a story there…). This list is not at all a “review” as I see on occasion. It’s a note of appreciation. They all have something worthwhile to say in their blogs and they’ve certainly helped shape what I include in my own.

This is a “Thank You!”

Stuart M. Perkins

https://empowerandbalance.wordpress.com/    Katelon Jeffereys

https://annetterochelleaben.wordpress.com

https://amehrling.com/

https://jfetig.com/author/jimfetig/

https://catterel.wordpress.com/

https://butterflysand.wordpress.com/

https://aimerboyz.com/

https://janbeek.blog/

https://heimdalco.wordpress.com/

https://amlifcar41.wordpress.com/

https://mikeandberg.com/

https://brucestambaugh.com/

https://gwennonr.wordpress.com/

https://nananoyz5forme.com/

https://tailsaroundtheranch.blog/

https://narble.blog/

https://mandyhackland.blog/

https://friendwise.wordpress.com/

https://joynealkidney.com

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Try Writing

“Thousands of people who write believe they are better than thousands of others. They believe they will pen the next great American novel but their writing is dull and full of grammatical errors. Why do they write anything intended to be read by the public? Why do they write?”

I read those lines and was impelled to respond. The blogger’s entire post was arrogant and sarcastic, but those lines were the cherries on top. After I acknowledged that he can post what he likes on his own blog, I then asked if rather than squelch ambitions with a negative message about imperfection, he could instead applaud people for their attempts, for our attempts because I am one of the imperfect. But, we still try.

I don’t necessarily like being serious because, well, it’s not funny. I love a little arrogance and sarcasm as much as anyone, maybe more than anyone, but his post was nasty at its core, humorless and discouraging.

For me, playing with words to form sentences in an attempt to evoke anything from laughter to sadness in a reader is “magical”, and I rarely use that word. Writing is simply another way to make thoughts available to a reader. I don’t believe I will pen the next great American novel, “dull” writing is subjective, and I am certain I end up with grammatical errors in my writing. But, I still try.

I started blogging less than a year ago and up to that point had hardly read one, much less considered writing one. With encouragement from a good friend, I gave it a start. As an adult I’ve never taken a writing class and in high school English I was at best mediocre. So why do I write? Because I want to. That should be answer enough for the judgmental blogger.

When I have thoughts to express, nothing stops the freight train of desire to write them down. I imagine everyone who writes experiences the same at their own levels. If one’s writing could use some pep or have the grammar refined a bit, those things can be remedied. Writers can learn to amp up their styles and they can become more familiar with grammatical rules. Those things can be learned. What can’t be taught is desire. People who need to write come pre-loaded with the desire to try. And so we write.

I sent my comments to the blogger expecting to hear nothing back really. I simply felt the need to counter a little of his discouragement. That freight train of desire to write my response just couldn’t be stopped! In less than an hour he replied. I hesitated for a second to read what he’d written, but the optimist in me thought why not, it could be he’s given some of his overly critical attitude a second thought! I clicked on his response and read the one line from him:

“Your comments contained two grammatical errors.”

He didn’t even tell me what they were!

It didn’t really matter that he’d paid no attention to the point I’d hoped to get across.

But, I tried.

Stuart M. Perkins