Slogging Through My Bog for a Blog

I’ve always said that the physical state of my study reflects the state of my mind, especially in terms of the state of my mind in relationship to my written words.  Those of you who have seen my study anytime during the last half century can attest to what a mess I am.  Nevertheless, I continue at little faster than a glacier pace to use words to organize thoughts, and now as the glaciers melt, I am pushing myself to move a little faster. 

At a recent family event, a very distant relative through more than one marriage relayed her joy of blogging.  “I have over a thousand followers,” she stated proudly.  I don’t see myself writing to collect followers, though I wouldn’t mind if a million or so slapped down an electronic buck for a book if I ever do decide to publish.  I want to write for two reasons.  First, I believe creativity is one of the basic necessities of life like food, sex, friends and other human interactions.  Second, I think it is important to know my own thoughts and to be able to communicate about all the bare necessities of life.

Though I have been able to label myself a “writer,” it has taken me years to actually share any of my writing.  I’ve put fears and distractions in my way of sharing.  My fears center on my level of skill.  My distractions are numerous, but too many invalid. Wasting some time is human nature; running 3,564,954 meters while collecting 649,996 coins in 3335 games of “Temple Run” on my relatively new stupid phone is not one of my proudest accomplishments.  So I’ve decided to throw all my shit through the caution fan and join BigK’s creative web.  I may even post some photos.

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15 Responses to “Slogging Through My Bog for a Blog”

  1. Atta Boy! Welcome to the new world of social media and sharing. You’re a natural for it.

  2. Welcome to the Muse and thank you for posting. Just what this place needed – some fresh meat. I think you will enjoy our small community. Some have found that the combination of ribaldry, rancor and rank nonsense a bit hard to take and have gone completely turtle on us – I know they are watching. I hope you will not fluster quite so easily and that your quick wit and way with words will hold you in good stead and also encourage those that have fallen by the wayside. If not, please know that bigK has your back. Any problems can be addressed to the admin. Again welcome.

  3. Writing is easy, you just sit down at the keyboard and cut open a major artery.
    The only way I know how to write is by relating personal experience sometimes combining two or more stories with some poetic license and perhaps a little “gilding the lily”
    I have a few more short stories in my creative pipeline but several will offend my closest friends, a few others will offend my closest family members and the rest will offend general public sensibilities.
    I can’t quite figure out how to relate some of my best stories without mentioning things like illicit drug use, inappropriate sexual liasons and some actions now well past the statute of limitations without gutting the tale of it’s most essential, powerful core elements.
    I greatly appreciate that the Muse has been the only publisher of some of my short stories. What were they? “Nash Car Racing” “The Footy is Shagged” I can’t remember.
    I have a working title for my next story, “The Three Actresses”
    It takes place in Key West FL and and embellishing this particular story would just be “gilding the lily”
    Welcome aboard alarrygoldm

  4. corndoggie Says:

    So you’ve decided to sit once more at the cool kid’s lunch table? Excellent!

    corndoggie happy. Only a corndog with mustard could more happy make corndog. Eyeball.

    You can see the high literary caliber to which your prose must be calibrated on the Muse.

    Somewhere in the Muse archives is a glossary of terms (eyeball, going turtle, adorable, chopped liver, phallocentric, just saying, Dr. Phil, etc.).

    A classic Muse thread is “The Greatest Composer You’ve Never Heard Of”
    http://thedailymuse.org/2009/07/29/the-greatest-composer-youve-never-heard-of/#comments

    The bestest post ever is J Moser’s grand undertaking, “The Greatest Composer You’ve Never Heard Of – A dramatic recreation in 5 acts to commemorate the birth of the Muse”
    http://thedailymuse.org/2011/02/25/the-greatest-composer-youve-never-heard-of-2/

  5. corndoggie Says:

    Sorry, jude. Don’t shame me. I’m a decent proofreader when I remember to do it.

    That’s “kids’ table?”, of course.

  6. I always sit alone at the cool kid’s table. (Cough, cough.)

  7. jude3obscured Says:

    Nice use of singular possessive, alargold.

  8. J Moser Says:

    Don’t discount the possibility that we all may be possessed, singularly. I’ve just come back from the isolation unit or what I like to call the Ultimate Cools Kids Table. As cool as isolation is, you do tend to miss stuff that way, which it’s why I’m just finding out about our new Daily Muse contributor. Very happy you are here alargold. Don’t go turtle on us.

    Coming out of isolation is a good thing to do. Take it from a man who knows. All I can say is the world is a better place, now.

    Thanks for the plus for my video project, Corndoggie. I’m proud of it, though it does seem to be living in isolation on the internet.

  9. corndoggie Says:

    Welcome back to the hurley-burley of society.

  10. jude3obscured Says:

    Uh, Corn, that’s spelled “hurly-burly.” (But don’t worry, alar — I won’t correct your spelling or grammar. I just do that to Corn and sometimes Roto. And it’s great you’re here.)

  11. corndoggie Says:

    Correct me all you like, babe, I love it. Shall I assume the position now?

  12. jude3obscured Says:

    In your dreams.

  13. corndoggie Says:

  14. rotobra Says:

    Tilting at the windmills, I vow to do my best,
    dreaming my impossible dream undaunted by my quest.
    Astride my steed of white, the first in any fight,
    my lance in hand, I take a stand to turn world’s wrong to right.
    I’ll storm the parapets, yet form no regrets, for I’m man enough to fight.
    But when the house lights raise, I’ve woken from my daze and I tally up the costs,
    I place my tail between my legs and see the battle’s lost;
    as it was the time before and many, many times of yore.
    I dreamt of rousing rabble to raise my mighty fist,
    but who knew? Yes it’s true. I’m a secret masochist.

    A poem by me, Roto Bro penned today

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