The Absence of Wavelength

Why I Write?

30DBC asks why I write...

I've only written about this since I could blog here.

Hypergraphia?

I can tell you inspiration fires the engine. Knowing you have an audience adds fuel for one who can construct thoughts into readable, understandable sentences.

But if you are on an island shouting messages to the wind, think again. You can go crazy opining to the tree.

The dream isn't to self publish. You want people to pry to read your words. But, lacking status in a community that awards motivated people, it's hard to elbow your way past to be read.

So, instead, I write to make sense of these thoughts. Write to find truth, beauty in expressions through language. Serendipity will find a straggler or two who will drop back to view one who toils in this dark...lend comment...move on. I'm not too welcoming, reciprocating, I suppose...my flaw.

The novel is the true goal. Desire, ignorance and loneliness drive the engine that has made several runs. The vehicle returns to the shop, new journeys come along...and the distraction of poetry, blogs and news feeds. I feel it's getting nearer the older my children get, the nearer my freedom to tether myself to some word machine to tap these Salinger experiences into my one last fling before permanently retiring misunderstood and under-appreciated.

Sorry, it's me, not you.