Still Writing

Holy shit. Has it really been almost a month since I’ve written a blog post?

Did I really just start a post with the phrase ‘Holy shit’?

Is anyone surprised?

No? Good. Because if I had to venture to guess, I’m sure I’ve done it before. In what is quite likely to be the only time I’ll ever paraphrase Kanye West…”I’m too busy writing my blogs to read them.”

OK. In all fairness he said that about ‘history.’ And also in fairness, he’s an asshat.

A friend asked me today if I was still writing.  And my immediate reply was ‘of course.’ At least that was my mental reply. I didn’t actually write that as my reply.

But…I was taken aback a bit as I struggled to think of the last time I wrote. Always when I try to figure out when the last time I wrote something, the word ‘meaningful’ always seems to creep on the end of that.  When was the last time I wrote something meaningful? And between you and me…I’ve learned that writing something meaningful isn’t the point.

Writing is.

But Todd, don’t you want to have your works be considered meaningful?

Yes. And No. I’m not writing to give meaning to someone else’s life. I’m writing because that’s what gives meaning to my life. It’s the one time when things actually click.

Ok…there is another time when things actually click and the universe opens up and reveals itself, but as this is something of a family blog (you hush)…I’ll leave that sordid tale for another time.

But seriously…I’m always writing.  I look at the dates on this blog, and it makes me a bit sad. For one thing, I have penned WAY more posts in the last 30 days than ever made it to the blog. I mean, to be fair, I haven’t actually typed them all. But I have written them.  I usually write a post in my head on the way to work. If the day goes well, I will have time at lunch to actually commit the words from my brainbucket to the keyboard and therefore to the ether.

Lately things haven’t been working quite like that. But that’s OK. I’m still writing. At least I’m telling stories, in my head.  The trick is to get them to paper.

Speaking of getting the thoughts down on paper, I did actually do some writing last weekend at Carter Caves.

It wasn’t what I expected. I figured I’d get more work done on my great American novel (if there is such a thing anymore).

But no.

I wrote a children’s book. About the Saddest Shower Ever. I have some ideas for the illustrations, too. So…I either need to find someone to illustrate it, or spend some time doing that. Given my current skill level, it probably would look like the drawings of a child. So that might be a bonus.

There are about four or five other posts floating around in my head at the moment. And I’m hoping to actually make the time to get them out of my head (I have to make way for new random thoughts to buzz about in there you see).  

I also need to get back to work on that great American novel that sits partially finished in some folder on this laptop.  

I’m almost there. I’m almost to the point where there’s enough shit purged in my apartment (life?) that I can get back to focusing on the things that make me whole (like writing…making music…), It’s been a slow process (going on two years now), but this place is almost the place I know it can be.

I’m really to the point now where a lot of shit is about to get tossed out to the dumpster. I’m sick of making up rationalizations for why I’m still hanging on to them.


And when it happens there will be pictures.

Won’t that be fun?

Alright. I’m going to close this particular post now before it gets to the point where I feel like I’m forcing things.

Have a kick ass Tuesday my friends!


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