I like gore.
Not Al Gore! I mean, the blood, murder and cruel yet sudden, unhappy endings.
This all started when I entered kindergarten. When first learning the A-B-C’s, I slowly graduated to writing sentences and then short stories. The teacher would ask us to write about a subject. One example was “Explain what it would be like to be a snowflake.” My snowflake, proper yet boringly named, “Suzy,” was unique — as with all snowflakes. I wrote about floating above the trees, landing on a windowsill and then being swept up into a big wind. Suzy landed on a car’s windshield — she was smashed by a rubber blade and died.
Every single one of my stories ended with some terrible, tragic ending and a proper, “The End,” after it.
I liked to write because it let my imagination soar. I could think about the most craziest things that people would encounter or say, write it down on a piece of paper and watch my imagination become something tangible. With progression, imagination joins the ranks of creativity, knowledge, passion and love. Whenever I submit a story for a contest, one question always pops up on their entry form. “Why do you love to write?” My answer is simple, placed accordingly in the drop down menu: Because I love to write.
Some people don’t understand it. Why not express yourself through other means? OK — let’s imagine myself as an actor. Or, to be dramatic, pronounce it like “AHC-TOUR!” (hands flying open). I’m not too good with acting probably because my memory sucks. Do they have teleprompters for small biz AHC-TOURS?
Maybe I can express myself through another art like, let’s say artwork. Yeah. Artwork. You’ve been to an art museum lately, haven’t you? When I walk into an art museum and see some of the stuff that’s on display worth millions of dollars, I think to myself, OK – I could have done this with a shower curtain, and it would look ten times better. Admit it. Some of the artwork there, which by the way is made from actual trash, is well — trash. I bet if I put a colorful post-it pad on an acrylic white box and placed it somewhere in the art museum, people will actually think it’s an old relic of what a desk used to look like. “Hey honey! Take a picture of this! This is old-school/vintage stuff. I love this!”
Writing for me is a form of creativity. There is a wonderful thought process that starts whirring inside my little brain as I begin typing on the keyboard. When I get too focused on a story, I’ll write deaf to drown out any sounds. No distractions. Unfortunately, the peace and tranquility will die a fiery death once we get a new puppy.
The connection with the reader is also important to me. This means that I’m not as crazy as I think I am; I have validation there are people out in the world who hold similar opinions to my own. I also like the fact that people who have either read my blogs or books find my voice funny and genuine and not like a clown — I hate clowns.
This blog was meant for writing about website design, social media platforms and online marketing tips. Don’t forget I’m a web designer by day, and the ever optimistic writer by night. I still post a few work related blogs from time to time, but after awhile, it starts to feel like I’m re-hashing stuff I wrote just two months earlier. Why would I want to disappoint my readers with boring, repeated messages and advice?
That’s why I write more about every day topics that happen to you and me. I don’t sugar-coat. I tell it like it is — from my own humblest, yet sarcastic point of view.
So, consider this particular blog a reason on why I write and also a big thank you to my hundreds of followers. You make me drink less.
I’ll keep on writing as long as you keep on reading and sharing!!