Blogger One:

An old Chinese proverb says, “Talk doesn’t cook rice.” I suspect it is equally true quoting old Chinese proverbs doesn’t cook much rice either. As I consider strategies for initiating my blog, along with noting activities that do not cook rice, I’m thinking also noting those that do not lead to a successful blog would be helpful. Once I know all of the don’ts, what’s left are on the to do list. Here we go with the don’t list for blogging.

1. Don’t sit and stare. Doing most anything else is an improvement over just gazing into empty space. Of course, I claim to be intensely thinking and it may be true, at least a little. Even so, writing is key and although I can think without seriously thinking, think without writing and write without thinking, to write without writing is pretty much impossible or at least beyond my scope for sure.

2. I don’t need another cup of coffee. I know it would feel good to stretch and stroll out to the coffee pot and back. A nice cup of hot coffee might even perk me up. I could use the time to consider more fully what I want to say and the jolt of caffeine might stimulate a new insight or something. No, no coffee, no stroll into the other room, no more avoiding getting down to the business at hand.

3. I don’t have any more excuses. I’m far enough into it to get down to it if I am up to it. Ok, I’m getting around to it and know it’s time to either do it or screw it. The deal goes like this.

I’ll never make a post if all I do is boast about the blog I’m planning to write.

It’s indeed a little crazy but either I’m lazy or afraid of being absolutely trite.

That’s a pretty pathetic verse and sure it can get worse but I don’t feel even a little contrite.

My blog is underway and I have a post for today so I can get that coffee and stare with no further fear of being impolite.

Starting a post with a quotation or some other wise saying seems to help break the ice or since I am into clichés, it more likely is merely priming the creativity pump. Either way, a quote from Sylvia Plath struck me as useful for my present purpose, “And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise.  The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”

Before using the quote, I thought a refresher on Sylvia Plath might add to the pump priming so in came Wikipedia to fill the need. Just search for Ms. Plath to find her life story or at least the Wikipedia version of her life story. The story is too intense and far too sad to tell here but think Fulbright scholarship, Pulitzer Prize for poetry, novelist, poet, controversial writer, and getting her own stamp from the Post Office. If she said it (and she did) it’s true enough for me, “…everything in life is writable about….”

This certainly opens a world of possibilities and opportunities. Now all that is needed are, “…the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise.” There you go, guts and imagination. That does reduce the challenge to rather simple terms. It surely helps to be brilliant and gifted as a serendipitous bonus but guts and imagination may be doable for most of us even if Pulitzer Prizes and our own stamp are not in the cards. We need only keep self-doubt arrested and far off our creative path.

Writing for the ages like Shakespeare or being as clever as Ogden Nash,

Would pretty well guarantee the conversion of your writing to cash.

But if guts and imagination are mostly what you’re about,

Remember the words of Sylvia Plath as you keep all self-doubt out.

Don’t you get a little suspicious when a reporter attributes a fact or other information to a “reliable source” or to “an official” who didn’t want his or her name used? It’s kind of the same thing when an author uses some insight or clever saying and then attributes it to “author unknown” or perhaps “anonymous.” I suppose giving credit to B. Franklin or A. Einstein would be no more than a misattribution, all be it intentional, but still, it does seem a tad unethical, don’t you think?

Let me handle my ethical dilemma by suggesting someone really famous probably said this first; but if so, I cannot figure who he or she might have been. Usually reliable sources say it was most likely the famous Anonymous. At any rate, he or she said, “Don’t expect anything original from an echo.”

Confession time: Ok, I was planning to start with this little quip from whomever thought to say it first and piggyback my way to a blog post, hoping you wouldn’t notice I was merely being an echo trying to disguise my voice so you would think I was actually saying something original. My idea was to also work in “Sometimes imagination pounces; mostly it sleeps soundly in the corner, purring.” The connection was to argue being an echo isn’t all that bad while one is waiting for imagination to pounce. Imagination or perhaps my illusive muse itself is but a big cat, just waiting to pounce when I least expect it.

With a respectful nod to that ethics issue we already covered, I acknowledge Terri Guillemets who created the metaphoric illusion to our purring, pouncing imaginations. Such an alive, hopeful image. My muse may seem to be gone but may actually just be in the shadow, waiting to pounce. How cool would that be? Way cool, down right stellar!

That brings us to whatever the point of this is, if there is a point. Trying to pass off an echo as originality is hardly worth the effort and does raise serious ethical issues. Even so, a little echo now and then can be interesting and perhaps entertaining if not overdone. What’s more, responsibly echoing can be a convenient way to pass the time while waiting for your imagination to kick in and your muse to pounce.

I echo what others say, while waiting for my muse to pounce.

Throughout this interminable day, my attention does not jiggle or jounce.

I listen for the slightest indication of the purring I’m hoping to hear.

It’s with anxious anticipation I feel my illusive muse is near.

Pounce soon big cat, you’ve been in the shadow far too long.

Quit acting like a rat, get out here where you belong.

I am still on a kick about getting my muse to return. It occurs to me it may be analogous to exercising. My idea is that it is like when runners talk about getting in the zone. They get so comfortable with running they are able to shift mind states, with the zone becoming their nirvana.

I suspect the zone is not a place one arrives quickly or easily. Since I have never personally been there, I can only speculate; but it seems likely one would have to run and run and then run some more for a very long time before being in the zone becomes a reality. Here is my idea. Everything up to stepping into the zone is exercising. Everything after that is being a runner. Sure, there are probably a gifted few who bypass the exercise part and step into the zone without missing a step. Here I am limiting my idea to regular mortals who cannot bypass the exercise part.

The analogy for writers then says write and write and then write some more for a very long time before being in the zone (communing with one’s muse) becomes a reality. This is more familiar territory. I have personally been there and hope to return soon. Yes, the gifted few probably slip into the zone without all that tedious exercise but for us mere mortals, it seems there is no shortcut to our nirvana.

I just hate it when I have to do this but I have no good alternative but to quote the famous Anonymous twice in the same post. I fear you may think I am making this stuff up. I should be so smart. At any rate, I “commit to be fit.” I will write and write and then write some more for a very long time. It’s definitely true, “The only exercise some people get is jumping to conclusions, running down their friends, side-stepping responsibility, and pushing their luck!” I commit to conscientiously refrain from all such superfluous jumping, running, side-stepping, and pushing, understanding they serve no legitimate purpose.

Sometimes I write better, sometimes I write worse.

Sometimes I write Pros, sometimes I write verse.

Sometimes I write more, sometimes I write less.

I commit to be fit, I exercise for success.

I was hanging out, priming the creative pump a while back. That’s what I like to call it when I am kicking back and relaxing with a good book. I found a rather compelling detective story titled Saratoga Headhunter by Stephen Dobyns (1985). I will leave the story for your discovery but hidden in there toward the middle of the book, I chanced on a shiny nugget, quite unexpected but thought stopping. The private eye come milkman was characterized as “an emotional joiner.” The idea is quite unlike being sensitive or empathetic. Think of a magnet. If emotions in others represent one pole, our protagonist represents the other. You cry, he cries. I’m supposing it happens with other emotions as well. You smile, he smiles; you get upset, he is upset. You get the idea: An Emotional Joiner.

My first thought was having Dobyns’ hero as the primary consumer of my blog would be totally terrific. He would pickup on the emotional subtleties and go with the flow, so to speak. Sure, there was a second thought. He would have no opinion about the post. He would just get pulled along, wherever or however it went. He would be incapable of critical feedback. What would be the point of that? A reader without the capacity for criticism may like the post but cannot appreciate it. There needs to be an independent potential for like and don’t like. A writer needs a critic.

As is my bent, I next went hunting for a wise saying or pithy quip about critics and criticism and came across this barb, “I am returning this otherwise good typing paper to you because someone has printed gibberish all over it and put your name at the top.” It is attributed to an unnamed English Professor at Ohio University which happens to be my alma mater. Yes, that is an interesting coincidence but not all that remarkable. Here is what is remarkable. I think I may know the name of the unknown professor. I will lay odds her name is Miss Gray. If so, she is the same English professor who told me I was too illiterate to be a college student way back there in my impressionable, undergraduate days. What do you think? Does it sound like they may be one in the same visitor from a bad dream? Yes, I think they are indeed the same person. It’s either that or O.U. has a serious problem with gratuitously cruel English Professors.

I continue to think only writing for social joiners would be a fairly meaningless activity but am bummed to be reminded of Miss Gray. I said I wanted criticism and it still seems important but it can sometimes transition into brutality. Perhaps there is a mid point where social joining and legitimate criticism overlap. I think that is where writer and reader converge to create literature, the world where they are both engaged and fully participating. It is kind of a Hmmm place where we can both be surprised.

I write as carefully and as clearly as I can.

You sincerely try to understand.

We may never be the others fan.

But we always give each other a hand.

For now, be well, do well and do something nice for someone. He or she will appreciate it and you both will have a better day.