I owe you all an apology for a post that I wrote earlier today. He Is Dying A Long Slow Death isn’t about a friend. It is about me. I am not dying and it wasn’t my intent to suggest that anyone was. The goal was to write a silly post about my hair and its decision to retreat. The idea was to portray a conversation that I had with my own reflection but I didn’t do a very good job of it. My apologies for misleading you because it certainly wasn’t my intent.
I didn’t realize my mistake until late this afternoon and by that time I was on the road and didn’t have access to the computer. Hence this apology.
I write. It is what I do. I am a writer. I love words and find it immensely enjoyable to use them to construct structures that relate thoughts and ideas. If you are among the 17 long time readers you know that I want to write books and screenplays.You know that given my druthers I would blog for a living and spend my days using these words to create tapestries of sights and sounds. So I write and I write and I write some more.
Sometimes the extra writing yields major benefits in that it helps me become more polished and proficient. But practice doesn’t always help a writer realize that his or her idea isn’t being communicated well or effectively. Again, my apologies. And now on to the next post.