It has been just over a year since I have even thought about this blog. I was reminded of it a couple of days ago when my step-daughter's Facebook profile disappeared.
"Where did you go?" I texted her (because who talks nowadays?).
"Needed a break," she replied. "You can follow me on Flickr or Twitter."
"What the hell is Flickr?" I replied, my fingers flying. And who, by the way, did she think she was...Charlie Sheen?
"It is my blog." she answered.
"I have a blog," I typed.
But do I really have a blog? I mean bloggers blog don't they?
My screen saver on my laptop is a scrolling, rolling script that chastises me each and every day with "WRITER'S WRITE." It undulates and winks in and out of view like a letter tongue stuck out in the face my silent, painful, blocked voice.
If writer's write, then it would follow that bloggers must blog.
Since writing fiction seems to be beyond my ability at the moment, I will flex this unused muscle between my ears with blogging...a poor substitute for fiction but even the most strident work-out fanatic would have to agree that some exercise is better than a vegetative state.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
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