Once upon a time
…I had a mission and a vision for this page. Nowadays, I’m feeling a bit differently about things in general.
As I write it is January 3, 2020. We are less than a week into a new decade, and while I am loathe to subscribe to something as plebeian* as a resolution, I have succumbed to the desire to make a fresh start of some sort.
(And, yes, I know this is more or less creating a resolution. Aren’t I just ridiculous?)
I have started and abandoned so many journals. People have gifted journals to me. People have asked (more so in the past, but still), whether or not I journal. And, most recently and significantly, in my not so humble opinion, Rhonda (my friend from the podcast and my writing group …which are essentially the same thing but I digress), has brought to mind how lucky my children will be to have this or that bit of writing to reflect on when I am butt-dust**.
Thus, I return to Writing Shorts with a new attitude (cue Pointer Sisters).
Writing Shorts will be where I post the stuff I would post on Facebook, if I thought anyone would really care to read it. Just being honest. Like, today, I was watching noodles boiling in water and started to think about currents and how miraculous it was that they are active in water as well as in air. I wanted to write about these thoughts on facebook, but I’d already posted at length about an Elbow song I’ve recently discovered.
Like, that’s just way too much Vitamin J(amie) for any person to consume in a single day.
Gotta dose it out.
So, Writing Shorts will be the place I go to post that stuff.
Words are my media. Writingshorts.net is my studio. Hang out and watch me create. Or not.
Either way, peace.
Success will not be defined by my readership or stats. Success will be defined by whether or not I am still actively posting to the site in the first week of 2021. I’ll re-evaluate at that point.
Let’s see what happens…
One thing - if not the first thing - I shall be publicly judged for is the slug-line of this website: "my own selfish indulgence."
*don’t worry. I had to look it up, too.
I was glad to learn it meant close enough
to what I thought it did.
**This is supposed to be a joke. About how we are all but dust. I guess you had to be there.