There is an ongoing debate in my house between my husband and me; actually, I think that we have reached the stage of a cold war. Let me back up and give you some background: When I went out on disability, one of the things that Corey and I both agreed on was that I would try very hard to get back into writing mode; hence, we invested in a very nice computer system for me, one with an obscenely large screen with an ultra-high definition so that I could work on my photography and design hobbies as well. (My daughter Alexis is sooo jealous of my screen because she claims that it is larger than her television to which I can only reply that I have worked long and hard for many years to have such a decadent item.) Anyway, I have been using this blog as an exercise to keep my brain active, and I am happy to say that it has been working.
What started out as a way for me to comment here and there on whatever popped into my head has become more and more focused, and I have found myself getting back to a more tightly-written style, reminiscent of how I wrote when I was writing articles for the museum. I pay more attention to structure and development, and I do more background reading now before I write some of my entries. I am thoroughly enjoying myself—the research, the reading, the perusing of other blogs—it is all engaging, and I am spending more time on the computer, and less time in bed reading my mysteries. I also find that I am going back to previous blogs and fine-tuning them, honing them, editing them, which I know is counter intuitive to the whole blogging exercise; i.e., It should be more of a freestyle, journal-entry format, less concerned with grammar and structure; however, I just cannot do that.
And so, this brings me to my main point: These entries are becoming more and more like little pieces of something bigger for me. Although it did not begin that way, I foresee it moving in that direction, and as a result, I find that I am investing more and more of my creative self in them. Hence, I want them to be read. So, would it not therefore make complete sense that I would want them to be read by the very person who has been pressing me, nay nagging me these past years to get back to my writing and stop claiming to be a writer and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT? One would think so . . .
So where is my reader, my great audience? He is playing Grand Theft Auto until the wee hours of the morning. Now let me pause and give him a little of the credit that he is due: The shipping industry has been as hard hit as everyone else, and he has yet to find a new company to take him on. This lack of gainful employment even after completing his latest training has been a big blow to our finances, but more importantly to his sense of self worth, hence, his addiction to video games and inability to sleep at night. But I have assured him that perusing my blogs might help him with his inability to sleep (half-heartedly, of course).
In fairness, my increased prolificacy and his increased gaming addiction may both spring from the same source: our household was affected by the economic downturn well before the NYSE, and the mortgage company is none too happy with us. We are in the mode of what is known as “creative bookkeeping” (in use by probably more than a few households in the country right now). That being said, I have tried to rein in my tendencies towards being a shrew when feeling that my artistic side is being underappreciated; however, I cannot help but feel that there is a black squishy leather bag out there calling my name and that I am much deserving of it. But yes, I know, it would be the whole nose to spite my face thing, blah, blah, blah, and it really wouldn’t solve the problem of going unread and unappreciated. Alas, alack . . .
And so, I will just have to muddle on with my daily doses of “Countdown with Keith Olbermann” (truly great great Special Comment on October 13 http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27188346/) and “The Rachel Maddow Show” to keep me sane and to keep me inspired, and once Corey gets a job, I’ll buy new ink cartridges and print out all of the blogs he hasn’t read, put them in a binder, and pack them in his bag so that he can read them when he goes to sea. See, even I, the worst person in the household, can come up with something approaching compromise (sometimes).
And on that note, back to politics after the real great(?) debate tonight. More later . . .