Mom, They’re Looking At Me!

Ever notice how a lot of Blogs start out as this nice spot on the Internet for someone to pour out their thoughts on everything from politics to the color of wind, and then morph into the typical “well, today we…” insert: went bowling, to a movie, washed the car, whatever.

Mine did that. In going over the archives in a stretch of boredom where everyone else in the house was either watching TV or playing a computer game, I realized that I went from looking inside my own head to tapping out a chronicle of my days.

And I know why.

Blogs are safe places to throw your thoughts out there to the world…until you realize there are people actually reading it. Once you know you have an audience, those impressive notions of I Have Something To Say become Oh Hell My Mom Might Be Reading This.


Yep, that’s what I thought about last night while I had nothing else to do.

I had another thought, too, while reading Other Peoples’ Blogs. Well, Other Writer’s Blogs. The word “author” sounds awfully damned pretentious.

What do you do?
I’m an author.

In spite of what it says at the top of this Blog, I don’t think of myself as an “author.” I think of myself as a writer. That’s it. Just a writer. And right now I’m a writer without a clear idea of what I want to write about next. I have a vague idea of the type of book I want to work on, but no story.

No story. Now that’s a big help.

Ok. So today the kids are going to plaster themselves in front of the TV to watch the remaining episodes of the second season of Alias that they haven’t seen (so they can pack the DVDs away to be mailed home tomorrow) and the Spouse Thingy and I are going out.

Yep, we’re going out.
To the store.
To buy cat food.

I have a very full life.

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