Must I write about writing on this blog? That smacks of a coffee table book about coffee tables, in my opinion. Which is all that counts, I suppose. It is MY blog. Which I started in order to be different from my everyday blog.
Sometimes I feel pressure to dish out advice that nobody needs. There are many sites where one can garner a daily dose of writing tips. Sites operated by qualified, experienced writers. I don't know where that pressure comes from. Most likely the universe, conspiring against me again, giving me pause when I should be blissfully writing up a storm. Or at least a submission.
I could do it, you know. Dispense that unneeded advice. I'm quite versatile. I could turn everything around by the end of the post and tie up a lesson with a pretty red bow. Because I'm a teacher, you see. I know how to spin things. But something makes me want to dig in my heels and refuse, like a sleep-starved toddler who does not want to be dropped off at daycare.
My enjoyment comes from dishing out a daily dose of skewed humor. Funny-bone ticklers. Mirth candy. To turn up the corners of someone's pursed lips a smidgen more than Mona Lisa's. Or at least to elicit a response of, "That didn't suck as much as I thought it would." Nothing makes me happier (okay, that cliche is a bit overstated here) than pounding out a post that makes me smile smugly, and give myself a virtual pat on the back. This, however, is not one of those posts.
This quick-fingered blog ninja needs to brush up on her basics, and bring back the funny.