A card reader once told me I would be world-famous for my writing. He turned over the something-of-Swords when I asked my barely-breathed question about fame & fortune & said, “Yes!! Your name will be a household word!” To which reply, I settled back in my seat at his table & simply kvelled. I was so much younger then. I had room under my arm to cuddle up this little friend who would do so much for my life. If I were famous, I …

He smiled gently, stroked his overlarge kitty, then pulled another card. His face changed, as he said, “However, Carol, this fame is posthumous.” Several words flashed through my mind at that moment, the least offensive with four letters being “drat!”

I could feel myself deflate. While I didn’t begin to sniffle, there was a ball of disappointment gathering in my gut. The phrase “WTH” was not popular then, tho what it stands for was well-known & expressed in initial caps…in full. I think that fiery little emotional ball had the letters forming larger than my life right then. I clamped down & smiled & hugged & farewelled. I went to the car & let go of the ideas of Fame & Fortune in this lifetime. I have kept these at bay since.

Christopher had offered (upon seeing my dismay): “You were totally famous in a past life, do you want to know who you were?” Nope! I replied. Doesn’t matter now, does it? Hey, I only have this unique assemblage of cells to work with. What good will it do me to find out I was Voltaire, or Shakespeare, or Jane Austen? I’d never read Voltaire tho I understand he was a renowned wit; I found Shakespeare a rough go language-wise; Austen was all about unrequited-until-it-was-not love affairs which aggravated me to the measure it reflected my own life. Just no.

I do always LOVE when someone compliments my writing tho . But it’s a controlled thing. I’m not tossing a rope onto any chandeliers to swing around the ballroom, yeh? I figure I’ll just kvell in the afterlife. “Nothing is lost,” say the science wags. “No energy escapes the system.”  I figure I’ll be strumming my acoustic harp on some cloud & a little spark will flash by, singing praises of phrases I wrote in this life. I’ll smile then & flash on the who I was – or am – now. (Not quite sure how to phrase that one.)

The next sentence I hear the most is, “You need to write a book!”

Why?

It seems folks are fixated on books being the ultimate expression for any writer. Words are the most flexible springboard into another universe that we have. Exploration is the most expressive leadership there can be. Where one goes, all have the option & opportunity to follow. I’d be pleased if my gift came through in bursts of more the number of words these ideas comprise at a time, or if they followed a full-on string of Story. But I’m a sprinter when it comes to language. I have a circular expression cycle. As you’ll see, this item will likely end up exactly where it started, just a few commas over.

I have over 400 essays on this blog alone to prove my point. That’s impressive, even to my uninflated ego. I am not a distance writer. I am hugely impressed by Gone With the Wind but more likely to use it as a doorstop than an example to follow. If I sewed, I’d make doilies, not duvets.

I have a lot of writing about writing. I have finally begun describing myself as “Writer” when someone asks what I do. (Another fallacy, we are  not what we do in this life, but so, so much more!)

It tickles me when another says what I’ve written is “good.” Often it doesn’t fit that definition, because good in & of itself doesn’t cut the mustard. Outstanding writing drives the nail home, hammers it solidly in, & then one can use it to build a structure. It takes a mind someplace beyond where that mind has been. It takes a “turn of phrase” which explores a topic in such a descriptive turn, one must sit back to take a breath & reconsider framework, structure, appearance, and quite more. That mustard suddenly stings the eyes, causes a sneeze, burns the tongue. It makes a point to inveigle the thought process & redefine a concept. This is also what humor does, if you think about it: taking a topic clear through another lens where the activity of sight is redefined.

I want to say thank  you to all my readers out there in the blogosphere, whether you’ve just come across this arrangement of word/thought, or whether  you’ve had your mental toes tickled before by my arrangements. Thanks for taking my unpainted hand & being brave enough to allow me to lead you here.

I pray your journey with me brought you into a heretofore unexpressed & unmanifest destiny. I hope the new thought I brought forth in this arrangement made you mentally sneeze.

In any case, God Bless You All Over!