Sunday, April 18, 2021

I'm happy with the effort I've put into my content lately. In the past few months, I've really liked the direction things are headed. I hate talking stats because It's impossible to do so without boasting, but I'm nearing some nice milestones FAR ahead of schedule as far as readership. It humbles me that there is anyone online that spends any amount of time on anything I write. I still expect to wake up to nothing almost every morning, but here everyone is, still reading and still supportive. I couldn't have asked for more from anyone, so thank everyone for sticking around. I'm never more happy to be wrong than I am when someone says they enjoyed my story.

So then, what's missing? A sign post that tells me where I am and where I can expect to be next. A teacher to invite me out of middle and into high school. An intuition that April showers bring May flowers. A glittery magic wand being waved that makes it apparent where all of this is headed -- hopefully, with a second magic wand that, when waved, removes all the glitter the first left behind.

The glitter and the sense that my efforts are an exercise in spinning my horny, repressed wheels.

I can say, with certainty, that I have no idea where I'm going, no idea how long it'll take to get there, or even if it'll be worth it when we arrive. That last part, mostly, is the hardest. Will it be worth it? Will things justify themselves? I often meet the moodiest, laziest, angriest parts of me while trying to write. Do those collisions produce real magic or just a glittery mess? Am I on to something with this whole writing thing?

I was reading "Where the Sidewalk Ends" by Shel Silverstein, whose poem, "Magic", resonated:

". . . Donald heard a mermaid sing, Susy spied an elf, But all the magic I have known, I've had to make myself."

Two things from this. First, others are privy to magics that I, for whatever reason, am not privy to.

Second, I can 'know' the magic I make, and the best source of information might be the mermaid listeners and elf spies. They seem pretty good at seeing magic that I can't. So, I'm going to trust that you, my readers, know my magic better than I do. I'll try to have faith that it isn't merely glitter amounting to nothing. And, I'll try to believe you, even if your name is Susy with an "S" instead of a "Z" -- though you can't blame me for being a sus when "sus" is literally in this spelling of the name.