The Great Christie Read 2012: Sad Cypress
The Great Christie Read 2012: Peril at End House

NaNoWriMo actual serious thoughts

Three people have led me, this week, to the realization that I must start taking my writing more seriously. That is not to say I intend to take myself anymore seriously, because people who do that are dreadfully boring. But I know I write well, and I want to write well for others; giving them something to enjoy and maybe even cherish. 

I do not mean to say I am talented in the literary sense. I don't know if I can be, but that is mostly for others to judge. I write like I sing, though with more technical skill. I do not have a beautiful or powerful voice, but people enjoy the way I put over a song, and find my singing pleasant. 

So, the three people. One of them did some research and found that I could have a similar lovely typing experience that I enjoy on the family iMac if I invested in a new Chromebook. You see, my evening typing is confined to an old Dell laptop. This might sound luxurious, daytime machine and nighttime machine, but the nighttime machine makes me weep with mourning for my old terrible Powerbook. I like an Apple keyboard, and I like Apple software. 

But the new Samsung keyboard will have a similar feel, and I won't have to tear my hair out wending my way through the ugliness of Windows software and clunkiness of the Dell keyboard.

He said, "An artist needs proper tools." I like that. We use what we have, to create beauty. But when we can invest in better brushes and canvasses, it is wise to do so.

The second person said, "Write a children's story.  Children see magic in the world and create meaning from it. And everyone likes a good children's story." 

That's true. Everything a child sees is bigger and more magical and wonderful because they see it with newer eyes and a more roomy heart. I'm not sure I could write a good children's story, at least, of any significant length, but I will be keeping this in mind as I write the story I am organizing for November.

The third person is my seventh grade Language Arts teacher, Mrs. Juanita Grayum. The first two conversations brought her to mind, and I am so glad they did. If Google has things right for me, she is still alive and living in Arkansas, at the age of 92. Mrs. Grayum taught me to avoid helper verbs, and she also taught me a few things about dignity, drinking lots of good water, the importance of breakfast, about strong narration, and about seeing more literature in life than is written in the Great Books. I've never forgotten her or our conversations after class.

Informally, at least, I am dedicating this effort to her. She did a lot with her life, and I aim to do much more with mine, starting right now. 

12 - 1 (2)

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