Plan A revealed: Getting out of the Dead Marshes

I’m going to try a little experiment here from now until Halloween. I’m going to force myself to post a blog each day for the next 30 days, whether or not I like what I write, or think it is worth posting. I’m going to make my Draconian internal editor sit behind the soundproof window so that when she starts lecturing me about how boring I am, I can turn my back, start singing the lyrics from Peter Tosh’s “Get Up, Stand Up , For Your Rights,” while she pantomimes the “hand-drags-knife-across-the-neck” to her lonely heart’s content. For the sake of your reading sanity, I’m going to apologize now for making you read what may or may not be boring, tedious, repetitive, or offensive in any way... and then delete any future apologies that come flying off my fingertips (“limping off” would be more accurate, considering my typing abilities). I think the risk of writing dross is worth the taking, because I have been wandering in a bog of writing resistance for so long that I don’t even remember what the Shire looks like anymore. Soooo, even if I have to look up the lyrics to Hannah Montana songs and start singing them at the top of my lungs to gain compliance.... I’m going to start blogging again this month and keep blogging.

For those of you who are my loyal supporters, yet unable to accompany me through the Mordor of my psyche, I’m going to make one request. I’m asking you to participate in this experiment with me this month by reading my smorgasbord as often as possible (or staying up late on Oct. 30, letting my blog be the entertainment to justify your microwave popcorn and Milkduds ) and send me your list of the things you hate(d) and love(d) when we get to the end of the journey. I’m not interested in politeness here, just honesty about what is profoundly refreshing and immensely annoying to read. If you do this for me, I will be deeply grateful. I may also be feel obligated to serve up yummy morsels all November.

I’ll end today with a quote that has been running around in my frontal lobe: “Good writing comes from good living.” More on that, tomorrow...