Opening the Fray

One must start somewhere, I guess in the Journal keeping world. I am a Blogger and have blogged for years at Blogit.com, but on the whole, blogging is like farting. We do it sneaky and deadly or loud and brash. In the end, we need to excuse ourselves and wave our hands about our noses. But keeping a journal . . . now there's a little invective for an author to ponder. I'm not one for keeping a journal. As I scrawl and craft my novel creations, I live within the moment (a moment derived by four pounds of thinking, and seven shades of revision). Some writers spawn active journals that enliven their characters with much elan and useless detail, which might become subtext, but rarely comes to nothing more than overwriting. So, as I blather here . . . I think I'll start this journal as a retrospective on my craft and how I've reached the brink, with a big ass novel (2 actually, pardon the adverb) and professional literary representation. Now all I need is a BIG advance and J.K. Rowling's cloak and I'm set for life. It began when my grandmother gave me an old upright typewriter for my birthday, many years ago . . . a half century at least . . . and thereby hangs the next journal entry.