Yesterday I had an email from the editor at Glow in the Woods politely asking where my post was. For long and technical reasons I didn’t post (this sounds better than an inability to sync calendars) but I had started the post on Friday so I didn’t think it would take me long to finish writing it.

And then I opened up the document and remembered why I had stopped writing. What I had was a long and rambly collection of paragraphs with no clear point, mired in endless self reflection and confusion.

I worked away at it for another hour, messaging back and forth with Sys Admin as normal for both of us. Finally, when he was starting to get all cranky pants because I wasn’t answering him, I confessed that a regular column I wrote was going badly and I just couldn’t turn it into anything.

This happens. I write posts, or I start to write posts and they just don’t flow. Sometimes I post them with a confession that my readers are getting a bunch of rambly written guck and I hope they can make sense of it, and sometimes I just leave them as drafts. Often enough I can leave them for a while and then come back and turn them into something worth reading.

The process of writing, I have learned in almost 4 years, is not always easy. It is, in the end, always worth while.

I was complaining to him, and he suggested I email him the document.

Now, for all I have talked about Sys Admin, I don’t think I’ve ever described him to you. Sys Admin is a burly Australian guy. If Canadian’s did such a thing, he would be called a bloke. He snow boards and motor cycles and the one time I sat at his desk at 7:30 in the morning and disolved in tears, he really wasn’t sure what to do with me.(He finally, gingerly, offered me a hug and patted my back).

He is a good friend. For all his bluff and bluster, he is kind; even though he would just hate that anyone ever admitted this about him. He’s a good husband and a far better father than he gives himself credit for.

Any way, I sort of demured and indicated he wouldn’t be interested in it, and there was this pause and he said, “no, really, send it.” (This was, I suspect, the moment where he thought if it will stop her from whinging, I’ll read it).

Any way, I sent him the piece and a few minutes later he came back with some suggestions.

He used the words “regret” and “sorrow”. He pointed out that I reminsced a bit at the end and it would make more sense to start from there.

He knew about Gabriel, but I don’t think he ever really realized. He has only seen the woman that copes, fairly admirably, as a woman without children. He doesn’t read here.

At this point, you are probably wondering if I ought to send this post of to Sys Admin as well.

There is a point to this post.

I write about my life, the good, the bad and the ugly. I write honestly, if selectively, about what it is to be me. Nothing more and nothing less. I have been thinking about this, and I’ll probably write more about it later this week.

I had and have been thinking about why I blog and what it means and what I get out of it. (Renewing your domain for three years, with the associated costs will make you think about these things.) I have been wondering about the future of this blog.

I guess I hadn’t realized that words do more than convey information, or that information has more depth than meaning.

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1 Response to Words

  1. Mr Spit says:

    Yeah, he’s a pretty good bloke.

    I, for one, am glad that you have this medium. It’s a side of my wife that I hadn’t seen before – the writer. Quite a good one at that!

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