Over-exaggerated to be sure, but some of you have been strongly hinting. So here's new reading for you and it's titled, 'Why I'm Not a Writer.'
Sure, I can string words together and make pretty, funny little sentences. I can make you laugh or cry, or stir some other emotion in you. And,
image via Pinterest
As a two year old, I enjoyed concepts and words that were much bigger than I. There is a tape recording of me asking my mom to babysit my child while I go to the hospital to have a C-section.
I've always liked words and the art of putting them together to make beautiful things. Of evoking emotion and creating mind pictures.
But that doesn't make me a writer.
I don't really enjoy writing, and only write when I can't help myself, which is about twice a year. I don't even journal consistently.
I spent part of a week at Faith Builders in PA and when I was there, I felt a little spark. I quickly ran for my notebook and pen and started an allegorical piece about a campground. I felt a thrill as I chose and re-chose words to fit the narrative. The thrill of new ideas and old words coming together on paper to create something new. Maybe there's hope.
Part of the problem is lack of material. Or lack of the right kind of material.
The material I have would raise a firestorm and I'm thinking the fire probably wouldn't be worth it.
But since you insist on knowing, they would be along these lines:
Why Multi-Level Marketing Products Work
The Truth About Multi-Level Marketing Products
Why Mennonite Men are More Interesting Conversationalists than their Female Counterparts, and How This Problem Could Be Helped
Singlehood- and the role of the Unmarried in our Churches
Why Apple is Better than Android.
Just kidding about that last one.
You see what I mean? I have enough ammunition to fuel a sewing circle.
Maybe when I grow up, I'll be a writer and write on worthy topics with such passion I can't help myself. Until then, you will probably see me only occasionally on here.