Day 1.3: Thoughts on Writing a Blog
May. 16th, 2024 07:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunshowerdandelionAs there are books to read and passages to write I will keep this short. It is only that I am excited to write about myself. As I read about Carson McCuller's life I kept thinking What should I write about this part? As if friends were waiting to hear my judgment. It is only that I want to talk, talk about books, talk about writing, talk about Carson.
I think Carson is a fated figure in that from a young age the unshakeable belief about her self was instilled by her mother and siblings. She lived life destined. It was not that she was spared the doubts about the future: Whether she wanted to become a concert pianist, or a writer, or a dancer. It was that she knew whatever her choice might be she would become an exemplar.
I have not tried to live as an artist. Owing to circumstances common to most people I have to work. I live subject to the whims of work and even now I am thinking about work not done. All my terrestrial friends also have work. I am also shy. I write this not to fish pity but to explain to myself that despite similar circumstances Carson sought for her 'we of me' and found them. I too (I think) need only to step out and find my 'we'.
Still I do not think I count yet among would-be artists or anything of that wavelength. It is rather pompous (I think) of me to call my fanfiction writing 'writing'. At best it is juvenilia of a form, though there is no guarantee I will not suddenly stop and make no more of it. I remember reading of a famous woman writer whose juvenilia was her writing about flying saucers invading earth. I found that immensely charming, although the writer's name escapes me at the moment. Maybe in the future if I do stop writing I can remember myself in similar soft tones.
In a few hours I will think this post to be immensely pompous.
I think Carson is a fated figure in that from a young age the unshakeable belief about her self was instilled by her mother and siblings. She lived life destined. It was not that she was spared the doubts about the future: Whether she wanted to become a concert pianist, or a writer, or a dancer. It was that she knew whatever her choice might be she would become an exemplar.
I have not tried to live as an artist. Owing to circumstances common to most people I have to work. I live subject to the whims of work and even now I am thinking about work not done. All my terrestrial friends also have work. I am also shy. I write this not to fish pity but to explain to myself that despite similar circumstances Carson sought for her 'we of me' and found them. I too (I think) need only to step out and find my 'we'.
Still I do not think I count yet among would-be artists or anything of that wavelength. It is rather pompous (I think) of me to call my fanfiction writing 'writing'. At best it is juvenilia of a form, though there is no guarantee I will not suddenly stop and make no more of it. I remember reading of a famous woman writer whose juvenilia was her writing about flying saucers invading earth. I found that immensely charming, although the writer's name escapes me at the moment. Maybe in the future if I do stop writing I can remember myself in similar soft tones.
In a few hours I will think this post to be immensely pompous.
