The Blog I Never Use

I am a writer at heart, but not by nature. I love words and phrases, figures of speech and idioms, narrative devices and hooks. I have even been known to indulge in allerative interludes and color my speech with mondegreen and spoonerism; for all of that, though, I will never write naturally, I will likely never have an acceptable first draft, I will probably never feel that what I've written lives up to my standards, and I will, quite probably, always wish for one more revision before I have to surrender my work for criticism or for print. I would like to lay blame for all of that on my writing disability, but I think that such a stance is simplistic in the extreme.

You see, I do have a rather severe writing disability, and it does effect my work in all matters, from formulation to the way my fingers miss the proper keys; from skipping or repeating words, thoughts, or ideas to reading what I thought I wrote, rather than what the page says; but these things are more the origin of my problems with writing than the sum. Because I struggled to learn these tasks, which I will never master (barring an absurd miracle, like Jesus healing a hangnail and ignoring a leper), I have developed an almost insane desire to retype every sentence I write, never until it is up to my standards, but just until it is a little less . . . unrefined. This tendancy, in combination with a perverse and shatneresque inability to write without pauses, which if reflected in print, would engender more elipses, parentheses, and em-dashes than words, makes it unlikely that I will ever write half so beautifully as I believe that I should.

I am sure that you can understand, then, why I admire good writing, or writing that strives to contain the artistic value which legitimizes its existence. So I thought I'd share with you two of my favorite narrative bloggers; people who take the time to do what most of us do not even consider: conceive of a blog as a literary form, with every right to the artistic details and imaginative language that that one should expect of good narrative. I shall include a few links below to these writers, the skills of whom are still growing, but for whom the trajectory of their current work promises future excellence.

Warning: Some of the following contain infrequent, but decidedly objectionable content. Also, the author of this blog does not necessarily agree with the views expressed by these bloggers, he just recognizes the qualities reflected in their forms of expression.

Fight Club, Why Worry and Scenes from A Restaurant from Gary James at The Big Side Order. James is rather consistent in his quality, with a quirky sense of humor, and amazing aesthetic sensabilities (and a strong notion of when to violate them). I find his wit and openness worth the

I went to the County Fair, The Glass Seems as Dark as it Can be, and Ridiculous and Awkward from Steve at The Underground Railroad of My Mind. Steven is a thoughful and insightful philosopher. He often questions society, reality, Christianity, and his own intentions, and seldom lets the humerous or absurd pass unmarke.

If I were to compare writing to art, mine is architecture. The lines are generally straight, the construction designed primarily to hold weight. I wish I had the time and talent to develop the brush strokes and exhausting intricacy that writers like these bring even to their most informal utterances, making them nuanced paintings of the human condition.

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