Dear Reader:
I’m like you. I like to read. Presumably that’s why you’re here. But if the world is gonna have readers, that means it has to have writers. Here, that’s me. I do enjoy writing. And I'm occasionally good at it. Over the last few years I’ve had a small measure of success in the “relationship space”. But I’m not sure that’s “real” writing.
Real writers are skilled laborers, artists, and magicians who consistently manage to prevent me from putting pen to paper (or finger to keyboard). David James Duncan and John Irving, for example, are responsible for the fact that I will never attempt a novel. Frederick Buechner is the spiritual essayist that I will never be. And Chuck Klosterman is my hero when it comes to cultural journalism. I blame each of these men, and more than a few women, for ending my writing career before it ever got off the ground.
Still, I'm inclined to write stuff, and so I've decided to dive once again into the world of interweblogging. I've tried this a few times before, with little success. (I once started a blog about my daily bus commute. I think I wrote three entries.)
This time, I’m committed. Because you, dear reader, you matter to me. And I’m grateful that you’re interested in the stuff I’ll eventually write about.
For now, I’ll give you a quick peak behind the curtain…which means I’m just going to take a moment to write about writing stuff. The stuff I write will most likely fall into one of two main categories:
Stuff I see that doesn't make sense so I try to make it make sense.
Stuff I think about that makes sense until it doesn’t make sense anymore.
An example from category one: The other day I was pulled into the parking lot at Trader Joe’s and there was a lady dressed like a clown except she wasn't dressed like a clown. I’m quite sure, in fact, that she was just dressed like herself. She was probably fifty. A little on the heavy side. Her clothes weren't: I’m going to dress quirky and cool and comfortable today to try and bring levity and light into the world. They were: It’s definitely a very good and normal idea to put on these bright green pants with this blouse with the wide bright stripes and also lather on some make-up and also carry this giant purse filled with important stuff that I definitely need to take grocery shopping. She had two bumper stickers on her car: TRY JESUS and DRIVE IT LIKE YOU STOLE IT.
I think about this lady a lot, and one day, if I ever make my own sense of her story. I'll write about it.
Things tend to end up in category two by virtue of some sleight shift in perspective or even word choice. (i.e. The wolf who cried boy. The road to heaven is paved with bad intentions. Homes were made to be broken.) I like turning cliches around in my head, making them familiarly strange, and sometimes more true.
I’m also going to write “musings about mystery, math, music, myth, movies, and finding magic in the midst of the mundane...and many more things that may or may not start with M” because these are the things that keep me up at night.
I am sure that someone, somewhere - indeed, many ones in many wheres - simply write better than I do. But you’re here, and that’s enough to get my mind stirring and my fingers moving. Because again: You matter. To me. Thank you.
I’m looking forward to sharing my stuff with you. My first goal is to write more than three entries.
kZB
I am so excited you are sharing your writings with the world again. We all want to know what goes on inside that brain of yours. Congrats!