Welcome to the first post of my blog. I think an apt name might be: What Do I Do Now?
Today’s post is an explanation of what might be expected from visiting here. It will be a multifarious adventure. I would use the word eclectic to describe it, but that is one of my least favorite of words. It sounds good. It trips off the inner-voiced tongue well enough, but I associate it with a negative air of superiority. I’ve seen it on so many websites belonging to Literary Agents just before my query gets sent back to me with a form letter that, after reducing it down to its lowest form, means hell no.
Please let me be clear here.
I’m talking about the association of a word with a bad experience. I’m not trying to debate them. I probably needed, or in fact deserved to be rejected. It takes time and a butt-load of rejections to become a writer. Hell, even J.K. Rowling was told not to quit her day job. (Disclaimer: that in no way means to imply that I am the next J. K. … etc.)
Anyway, back to the blog. There will be many wind gusts my thoughts might blow around on, and I have no idea in which direction they will travel. As I sat down to make a list of the things I might cover, I was enlightened to the proclivity of my mindless wanderings. I should have guessed though. My Great Grandfather had a wandering disposition. Why just the other day while marching my DNA back through history it looked as if I truly descended from a line of bastards. But it was a false alarm. I’m not literally a bastard, although I’ve heard several utterances justifying the name be tattooed on my buttocks. Kind of poetic isn’t it. So, call me what you will.
Oh, wandering again.
Do you see what I mean? At any given moment in time, my mind might dart off in new and unexplained direction. By the way, I will probably talk about moments in time at a later date.
I’ll stay away from politics. There are enough people out there that blog about that, some do it with intelligence, some with as much smarts and mud as the backside of a jackass might have. I see no reason to muddy that field anymore. As it is, hip waders are useless.
That brings me to my last sub-topic for this post. I spent some of my best years in the Army, and while there I earned the equivalency of an advanced degree in what President Truman termed, cussing. I try to behave, but an occasional expletive (The transcriptions of Nixon’s tapes made that word famous) might fall out of my mouth, or fingers, whichever. If that irritates you, I apologize and ask that you simply redact it. Examples on what that is have been talked about and displayed ad nauseam in the last few months. The gist of this is, I don’t want to offend, but sometimes those words can be perfect descriptions.
To sum it all – come on back. There’s no telling what might be here.
What Do I Do Now?