Remarkable as it seems
Turns out the night was much shorter
Than you wanted to believe
But we're only in Dakota
~ “Dots on Maps” by Say Hi
I know that I have been remiss about writing. If it is any consolation, I have also not been tweeting for @HistoryinaFlash. School, the Opera Guild, and work have kept me rather busy. Plus “My Dragonfly” is so darn cute that any spare time I have had is spent messaging K-Shrub for updates. At least it seems that way. Seriously, the little guy is so perfect. I don’t know that there is a baby in existence who could steal my heart the way this one has; absolutely enchanting. In less than a week I will be driving to Texas to see the twins (and everyone else). I am looking forward to the trip and am hopeful that the weather stays cooperative for driving.
I was asked the other day why I ever started blogging in the first place. I gave the inquisitor a pat answer along the lines of “I have always kept a journal; so this seemed the next logical step.” He was satisfied with my response and I was able to move on with my day. The thing is, that isn’t why I started blogging. I mean it is; kind of. I have (inconsistently) written in a journal for most of my life. When I was very young, I kept hidden diaries that have long been discarded along with my childhood. My teen years were better documented through consistent entries and story writing. When I was married, it changed. My first husband explained to me that secrets were not supposed to be kept – so I allowed him to read my journal – though it was filtered and eventually, I stopped writing in it altogether due to the lack of a private venue where I could share my thoughts.
Near the end of my first marriage, I found myself journaling in secret. Sorting these thoughts helped me make a lot of decisions without being forced to ask for advice from others. I had never been one to allow myself the level of emotional vulnerability which accompanies sharing my innermost thoughts with another person. My second marriage brought with it its own circumstances which eliminated any opportunity to journal with an expectation of privacy.
I didn’t write for a couple of years. Any personal feelings I did write down were thrown away or recycled. Then, K-shrub introduced me to MySpace. Y’all can laugh; but MySpace introduced me to the blogging community. So I joined a blogging group – similar to a writers’ circle where a group of writers get together and write about similar topics. I suppose I should have titled this post “Confessions of a Top Ten MySpace Blogger”. In that group, I was once again able to find my voice. I wrote and wrote and wrote. I adopted the use of nicknames and pseudonyms to write about my life with a veil of anonymity. I developed a new writing style which was entertaining, informative, and cathartic. It was in that blogging group that someone first referred to me as “girl genius”. The name stuck.
I miss those days. I miss the accountability which comes with being part of a group. While I am not going to fight the losing battle of “Mass Exodus from Facebook to MySpace”, I wish that we could move back to a social networking site which wasn’t in it for the advertisers. I am nostalgic for a site designed for the convenience, customization, and well-being of the user. Now that I have my own URL, I don’t need a social networking site to host my ramblings. I also don’t need a list of rankings based on readership. I do, however, have a need to be a better writer and I cannot do it on my own.
I want my writers’ circle back. I want the challenge and sense of discovery which accompanies writing as a group. Before I approach the idea of forming something permanent, I’d really just like to do a “workshop” over the course of 7 days. Perhaps it will help me find my muse again. I hope you’ll consider taking part.
I am inviting anyone who would be interested to send an email to: firstname.lastname@example.org Dates and more information will be sent to interested peeps!
PERSONAL NOTE: You’re sexy and you know it!
CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: Why do we not say aloud what we already know goes unsaid?