When is it presumptuous to call yourself a writer? I don’t make a living writing. At times, I’ve had jobs that writing was a part of it. Yet one of the things I have rediscovered about myself over the past couple of years is how much I do enjoy writing. And I have had the chance to expand the types of writing that I’m involved in. I was very fortunate to be involved with a science-fiction and fantasy writer’s group while I was living in Kansas City. (Perhaps some of my projects in that vein will appear.) There is some poetry, which fortunately not much of that will appear online. And a variety of other nonfiction subjects, some essays, some blog entires.
The Facebook status window can be very addictive, and I enjoy writing short little messages to go in that box and then check frequently to see what comments appear. I don’t think many of my Facebook contributions will stand the test of time. Probably none of my blog entires will either, but I feel that the longer-form contributions of blogs are so much more substantial than those little Facebook quips (I have yet to become an active Twitter person, but the same applies there too). I sometimes think Facebook is sharpening my senses so that I’m becoming like a small primate in the jungle anxiously jumping from subject to subject. (I’m not particularly happy with this trend)
The discipline of blogging on a regular basis is something I am wanting to get back to and I hope that this has a positive impact on my other writing projects as well. I plan eventually to pull old content back into this blog, but until then you will get my new posts on faith, politics, tech stuff, culture and other things which interest me, and hopefully some of those posts might interest you too. Thanks for stopping by.
