And while I struggle to make myself write a rambling post about nothing whatsoever, you all are busy kicking writer ass at NaNoWriMo. And no offense to your novel-writing awesomeness, but I fucking hate NaNoWriMo. Because that means most of my fave-oh-rite bloggers are busy writing their novels and I'm left to fill my time with actual productivity.
Like I want to do that.
But no worries about jealousy. I'm sure your novels will be awesome and be published and you'll take me with you on your book tours to manage your schedules, because I'm much better at being an organized, anal retentive planner than a novelist.
You're a good writer, you say! You should try it!
To which I say, I don't wanna! in my whiniest voice imaginable.
Because I will most likely never write a novel. I'm just not a fiction writer. I guess I could pound something out (hehe. pound.) if I truly tried or was forced to. But it wouldn't be good. Why? Because I wouldn't enjoy it. Because I would hate every character and plot point and the denouement would be disastrous if I even got to the denouement before killing off all the characters in some poorly planned way because I was sick of them all and just had to make the damn thing stop somehow.
The thing is, dear Internet, I don't like writing fiction. And that's the first step, isn't it, wanting to tell a story?
I love novels. And novellas. And short stories. And poems. And any kind of prose I can ingest as fast as my brain will process. I was a literature major. I have always been and will always be a bookworm. So I have much love for the writer. And those of you who can weave a glorious tale that worms its magical way into my soul have a special place in my heart. Your gifts do not go un-lauded here today.
But I would like to commit literary sacrilege and say that the novel isn't the pinnacle of the writing world.
Gasp! What? The horror! The horror! (Please tell me you know what book that's from.)
It's a good one. It is. And the creative medium which garners the most dollars, to be sure.
Nevertheless, why do we only see ourselves as good writers if we've published a novel? Why is that? Are not other forms of writing just as challenging? Just as moving? Just as poetic and soulful and gently told with expert crafting of phrase or subtle rhetoric?
Does not the nonfiction writer still mold together an eclectic cast of characters in which to tell a different kind of story? Does not the essayist craft a piece of artful prose in order to move a reader, to stir a reader to think, to emote, to react? Does not the poet carefully cobble words of movement to create something powerful in its effusive lyric or free form rhythms? Does not the comic incite guffaws? Does not the journalist, the columnist, the reviewer, the blogger write?
Are we not all writers simply by the act of writing? By utilizing our mastery of language? By taking words and fashioning them into something new and interesting or funny or powerful?
Sigh. Yes, I got a little carried away. I apologize profusely.
So no, I will not be writing a novel. Perhaps one day I will publish a collection of essays or poems. Or maybe one day my memoirs. Maybe I'll get paid to write a column. Or maybe I'll one day make actual dollars off of my blog.
Or maybe I'll become a smelly pirate hooker. Who writes on the side, of course.
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1. Use this week’s word.
2. Link up to Word Up, Yo!
3. Mention the name and/or blog of the person who recruited them (that's ME, bitches!) on one of the blogs of the Dons:
This week's word: