Wednesday, April 29, 2015

I'm still trying to figure out the purpose of blogging.

   Why do I blog? Because my publisher said I needed to develop an online presence, and start a blog so readers can get to know me. But I haven't published anything yet, and have no readers. Someday you will, and with an established blog, it will be easy to find you. OK, what do I blog about? Tell people about your writing process, how you get your ideas, why you write, that kind of thing. Well, I did that already, even though I have no idea why anyone would be interested in a writer who hasn't published anything yet. So now what? Share something about who you are. Your likes and dislikes. Let folks know what kind of a person you are.
   Well now, this post has certainly taken a different path than what I had planned. Should I share stories of growing up in the fifties that people may not believe? Like the fact that most families had a shotgun or rifle next to the front door, and a loaded handgun in a dresser drawer, yet gun violence was totally unheard of. Arguments and fights were handled with your fists, since guns were for cowards. Nobody locked their homes or cars as we all learned to respect each others possessions.
   On the weekends, it was my job to stoke up the fire in the kitchen before I left to go play with my friends. If we got together and decided to spend the day in the swamp, everyone would grab a machete or hatchet to protect us from water moccasins, and large snapping turtles. The only thing you had to worry about when stepping in the mud under the water, was a catfish. They had some nasty spikes that could punch a hole in your foot or ankle.
   Well, I could go on and on about the 'good ole days' compared to the hell this society has become over the last fifty years, but what does that have to do with fantasy? Imagination. We had to use our imagination for everything. We made our own toys or imaginary weapons out of whatever was available. The woods were filled with all kinds of evil creatures that we had to battle. There was always a princess who needed rescuing, or a buried treasure waiting to be found. Fantasy abounded, and everyone had their part. I never grew out of my fantasies or the world of 'make believe'. The hard part is getting those fantasies down on paper so they make sense to others.
   I may regret posting this, but oh well, I am who I am.
   Have a wonderful day, and remember, "Life is a fantasy, make it yours".


  1. Love this post... I grew up in the south, before the computer, video era, and imagination was the best playmate.

    I just started a blog a couple of months ago.simply because I was told it's what a writer does. Like you, I haven't published. I have no idea why anyone would want writing advice from me, besides there are so many blogs doing that already.

    I post stories I've written, quotes, and it's kind of fun, but how much help... I don't know. But we do what we think will help to become a published author.

  2. I know you always considered me a youngster in writing group, but I still remember being locked outside with my sister on hot summer days while Mom cleaned the house. We had to use our imaginations a lot too. The only big trees on the property often became our fort or castle or tea party. And the big poles dad kept on the far side of the property was a stage for circuses, bridges to far away places, and something to practice our balance on. Believe it or not, the good ole days weren't so long ago. Thanks for posting this! I'm finally getting my blog off the ground. If you need more ideas feel free to email me: