Yawn – What Bores You — a response

( YAWN )
Day eleven into Blogging 101 and my response to the daily prompt — Yawn – what bores you.

One day my family’s sewer backed up and I was the one to stay home and let the public works guys in.  They went into the basement and I trailed behind, stopping on the steps to sit and watch.  They asked if we ever flushed kleenex or paper towel down the toilet – a big no-no — and explained the reasons for this.  I assured them I did not.  I listened to them talk about sewage and drains while they worked away.  It was fascinating.  They asked if I had an old wire coat-hanger, not a new flimsy one, but a good strong old one.  I told them I knew what they were after, and yes, I had one.  This excited them and I went and fetched it for them.  They turned it into a modern sculpture and used it to fish something out of the trap.  “Can we keep the coat hanger?”  “Of course!”  I was excited too.  I enjoyed the morning very much.

I find the strangest things to be fascinating.  Things that I think most people would find excruciating I find hugely interesting.  Take me to a shopping mall and I am bored beyond belief.  My husband puts a romantic movie on for me and I am likely to go to bed early.  But, I am the one at the party quite happy to sit beside someone who speaks for an hour about his job.  I find if someone enjoys what they are talking about that I enjoy listening.  “Our Alice” who everyone in my family dreaded visiting — “she’s always complaining” — was someone I liked to go and see.  I have never been blind, old and suffering back problems.  Did you know that whey your back is out that you take shorter steps and consequently bang into everything?  Nothing is where you think it should be.  It’s true.  And she didn’t complain.  She just talked about what she knew.  Wonderful.

Maybe I’m built backwards.  Maybe it’s a writer thing.  But no, not much bores me.

Why am I writing and for whom?

So, exercise 9 for my way behind blogging 101, and I’ve chosen to expand on the comment I left on a writer’s site where she was questioning why she was writing and who it was for.  I commented:  “It’s the big question isn’t it? Why are you writing and for whom. I try to write for both, as I have discovered how exciting it is when somebody actually reads what you wrote. I go back to something Fay Weldon wrote in her “Letters to Alice” where she basically advises writers to ignore other writers because it’s readers that matter.”

Now a lot of us will say that we are really just writing for ourselves and it doesn’t matter if nobody else reads what we’ve written or what they think of it, but if you are writing a blog that is an obvious lie, some misplaced idea of modesty.  We aren’t writing in a diary that we will lock up and place carefully under our mattress, nor are we just tapping out our thoughts or tales on the computer to store in a folder until some later date.  We are throwing our words out into the ether where I, for one, know I am hoping someone will read them, like them and maybe even respond.  So no, I think it matters to most writers that they are being read and I think it also matters that for the most part people like what they have written.  This is not the same as having everyone agree with what is said.  This is part conversation and some disagreement will always occur in conversation.   It’s part of the fun I think.  At least if properly considered and thought out.

I love Fay Weldon’s advice that writers should consult readers, not writers.  I try to keep it in mind whenever I write.  As a writer I know I am terrible for wanting to rewrite things for people.  Granted, that’s often what people come to me for, to polish up or edit some letter or presentation, but that’s very different to this creative writing.  What does surprise me is how personally I take a reader’s criticism or advice, especially as it is almost always something I have already been thinking.  I guess it’s like being caught at cheating, I put something forward without finishing it properly and it was noticed.  Naughty girl.  You’re not so clever as you thought.

I guess, in the end it feels easier when something is important to you to pretend that it doesn’t matter what people think, that I don’t care if I am read or not or if people like my work, but really there’s no point at putting this time into something if it’s just for me.  No, it matters and I admit it here in front of all you other writers.  I write this in hopes it is being read and that people like it.  

So here’s hoping that I and you, and all like us foolish and conceited enough to put our words out there are being thoughtfully read and enjoyed.

P.S.  Thanks to

rubyarmour.wordpress.com for providing the jump-off point for the initial comment and my later thoughts.

Blogging 101 – 2nd exercise

Well, here I am attempting two posts today, though most of my first was started yesterday.

So, titles and taglines.

I suppose at this moment my title of Elizabeth Lavenza blog is a bit specific, considering I am not currently working on it.  Elizabeth Lavenza is the doomed foster sister and momentary wife to Victor Frankenstein and the purpose of my blog overall is to write her story.  Although, I realize only those familiar with Frankenstein will get the reference.

I have considered starting another blog, and so a less specific title, but that really starts to get fatiguing.  Especially when I really do wish to finish what I started in November.  But still. . . a title. . .a tagline. . .

Elizabeth Lavenza. . .Elizabeth Lavenza. . .The truth beyond Frankenstein.  Nope

Elizabeth Lavenza – What Victor Would Not Say.  I think that’s better as a title.  If you are going to rewrite a classic novel, point out why.  And Frankenstein is told from only one point of view and the teller is highly suspect.

And I suppose the tagline is obvious.  A retelling of Frankenstein.  Or — Frankenstein from another point of view. . .because you can’t always trust what you hear.  What you come up with when folks make you think.

I guess I will have to see if I can get it up there.  And what I think of it in the morrow.