So I keep thinking about this whole blogging thing. Why do it? What’s it for? What the hell is wrong with people, they wanna read other people’s journals?
So they why am I doing it?
(Well I’m not yet, or wasn’t, but then now I am – “It’s like you’re unraveling a big cable-knit sweater that someone keeps knitting and knitting and knitting and knitting and knitting and knitting…”)
So what I came down to is this. I need something to write about. My life is a bore. Most people’s lives are a bore. Most people’s thoughts are a bore. It’s what people do, what they create, that’s interesting. Or sometimes what they destroy.
So (and this is subject to change at any moment, for there’s only one rule, and that is, there are no rules), this blog shall be about writing (My writing, but also the writing of those I know, or love, or respect, or some matrix of these). It may also be about other permutations on art and music, if it turns out I have anything to say on those topics; I create neither, but require both.
So that’s – oh, fuck, I just wanted to say, “my mission statement”. Someone stop me.
The voice from side-stage growls, “Get On With It!”
So I’ve got my first serious effort at writing posted elsewhere on this self-same web site. Some of you have seen this already, but if you have not yet done so, read, and please, feedback.
Wanton, a novella of sexual obsession.
There’s a lot more of my writing squirreled away on various hard drives. Most of it utter and complete crap of course. I’m gradually winnowing out the good stuff though, or at least the stuff that’s not completely unworthy; some of it will be added to this site and mentioned here as it’s readied. More still when I finally find the muse and get on with some of the couple dozen stories I have started or outlined.
That’s enough for now. Later, sometime, I shall crack open the can of worms in my own skull entitled “Why I write”, but – yes, later.