This week, someone whom I admire greatly suggested that perhaps writers who blog would be better advised to refrain and pen the next block buster.
This person is probably right but.... wahhh. Blogging is so much fun!
You see, being a writer (as opposed to being a teacher - which I am as well) means long hours of solitude. Days. Weeks. Months. For me, usually spent staring at my computer screen interspersed with tidying my office, feeding the cat, rearranging the pot plants... (Ok. The last one was an exaggeration. I only have two pot plants and they are both by the kitchen sink so that they are never starved of water!)
But, blogging. Well, blogging is a great place to go after you've just discovered something amazing (in your story, about life, news, non-news, belly-button-type reflection).
*Cough* so, that's my justification because in the past eight days, while I have been 'author' and not 'teacher', I have been overwhelmed with story.
The joys and sorrows of situations which involve close family and friends; stranger kids who have delivered me their lives on a scrap of paper; the (possible) reason why a young woman stands in the light of the entrance to an Auckland city car park, dressed all in black, her legs, arms and torso visible as she waves at passing traffic. The possible pain or joy of the repercussions of a NZ Post truck tipped over on Wellington's southern motorway....
And, the stories from others who have been brave enough to share or hint at their struggles: partners, off-spring, health, employment.
Sigh. Man, things suck sometimes!
Yet, it is not all doom and gloom. Knocking about with storytellers means I've also been awash with tales which have uplifted my soul.
So I will continue to blog about that which impacts on me as writer and not feel guilty that I'm not writing.
Oh, cos I am. Writing. The third book. Don't give me that look. I am! *Tania scuttles back to her study* See. It's all here.