As a writer I always find a blank page incredibly daunting.
Whoever sits there and tells me that a blank page is a beautiful thing because its so full of possibilities is so full of crap that they should look into forest fertilization. At least in this respect they would be useful.
I spent 20 minutes just staring at this damn blog; wondering if I should say anything about myself or just dive in. I'm voting for diving because let's face it, you give a flying...well you know...about me. I'm just a person. These are just words. They have a personality all their own. If I've held on to your attention this long then it doesn't matter whether I'm a busty barely legal schoolgirl desperate for the attention of the masses or a 80 year old cancer survivor struggling to find new meaning in life doesn't matter. Read what I have to say if you are so inclined; and don't pass judgement based on what I say about what I claim to be. Pass judgments on what I claim to think.
I wish I could say this blog has a theme; but it's just musings. I don't like holding to themes. They're tedious. I'll stick to my favorite topics books, movies, comics (web and otherwise), the paranormal, video games, relationships, bad television, and whatever happens to strike my soapbox fancy.
So here I am. Sitting in my Creative Writing class not listening. I should be. I know this. But honestly, sitting here for three hours every week listening to the hopeful blatherings of the barely literate is torture. I admit that every now and again that a gem passes through this community college classroom; but more often than not I am perpetually bored.
So why do I bother? How else am I going to learn what not to do? It's like the time I sat down and read the Twilight series. Most of the time I wanted to scratch my head out and pour brain bleach in the wounds. Painful and true.
I think, worse than having to sit and listen to nervous authors stuttering through their work, is listening to the pathetic attempts of the other students to craft constructive criticism to bolster one another. It...hurts. It's the literate equivalent of telling the fat cheerleader she's just as good as everyone else. She's not. She will never be at the top of the pyramid; and they will never be on the bestsellers list.
It's doubtful that I will either; but at least I understand that.
