Well, a month ago the back of that box made a good alternative to under the fridge for putting that important document you need tomorrow... :-pA writer is someone who writes. If you have pages and pages of writing that makes you a writer. I don’t think the writer’s drive is all about how they’re received. (If all their stuff is in a box that would probably be as a non-writer!) And to be overly concerned about that is a mistake, as there will always be those willing to tear you down.The internet makes it easy for a good proportion of the world to self-publish, which is tremendously egalitarian, but a double-edged sword. Timothy Train did a nice piece on how, say, Shakespeare would be received as a contemporary writer on the blogosphere.But I think we really write because we want to get certain thoughts out there. And if we’re writing and not publishing it’s because the process is an involved one. We gather. We distil. We interpret. We create. And, one magic day, we have something special. And we know it’s special, and if the rest of the world doesn’t see that it can go fuck itself.
I totally believe in slow writing, letting stuff sit and molder and compost until it's good and smelly, until it's ready and you're ready for an audience - which might be, who knows, sixty years hence. That's my excuse, anyway.
Oh, and for what my opinion's worth, I reckon you turn a damn fine sentence.
Yeah right, you're certainly not talentless. I have a whole bunch of notepads and books mouldering away in some fusty old closet somewhere which I may or may not recycle at some point in the near or distant future. And my experience with publishing, to date, (aside from the blog of course), has been a few zines with a print run of, say, 10. (The lowest had a print run of maybe 2.)
Gwendolyn from 'The Importance of Being Earnest' says you should always write a diary so that you always have something interesting to read! We're a wordy lot, and your Nails are that sharp, they maybe need a box to protect the world from their precision points.Also it can be fun to ceremoniously tear or ash up the paper heap and then start a new one.
Al, it wasn't months it was years. About two from what I can work out. The box contains pencils and paper and paints and canvas and far too many words. I boxed my creativity and then put it away. I'm not so sure about the rest.You swore. You never swear!Alexis, I think my problem is that I write a diary and never anything else. And, of course, that I find no value in what I write. Thank you, though, for your kindness.Tim, who mentioned publishing? I don't go so far as to presume I would or could.Mitzi, I don't - generally - own what I write. I can see that this might be becoming a problem though, ironically, I find, I am presently addressing a crowd who knows, more or less, my alter ego. I'm pretty sure the box is more about hiding than protecting. Not psychologically sound at all!I do need to go through and weed out that pile. Some of it quite embarrassingly falls into the category of letters -written-never-meaning-to-send and ought to be disposed of.
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It follows that reality is a much bigger thing than it seems, and most of it is invisible. David Deutsch