Sometimes the best thing to do with a note is not publish it. I had a note all prepared to edit today and I can't find it anywhere. It's funny how that can happen. I mean, it was gonna be a real killer note too, a political zinger.
I know this is a bad example of the point I hope to brilliantly make over the next series of lines, but I throw away more than I publish because I think I get it wrong more than I get it right. I know throwing something away is different than losing it, but I'm exercising my right to think positively, and I would loath myself for losing something WORTH shooting into cyberspace!
I learned to be picky about my writing from my grandfather. One day he came up from his woodworking shop with a new rocking chair he had just finished. I watched in silence as he looked it over and sat down for a test. I could tell by the look of his face that he was not satisfied. So off he went, muttering to himself with his nearly perfect chair in hand. Later that day I tiptoed down to find it in a box of scrap wood.
I love to write. But it's my reading that keeps me from writing. There is so much to read today and it seems we're publishing more of our random thoughts than ever before. It used to be we had to be a good writer with connections to get a publisher to look at our "masterpieces," but now all we have to do is log on.
Therein is the rub. I'm writing poorly on the web to complain about the glut of poor web words. It doesn't really matter to me if you drool while reading The Chicago Manual of Style like I do. In fact, it's somewhat embarrassing to admit because only weirdos do that. There are only two options for someone like me: a) stop writing to avoid hypocrisy, or b) learn to embrace the silliness in print 'cuz I wanna have mine there too (notice my uncouth use of slang).
I choose option b) with the hope that I'm not wasting anyone's time. I want for you what I want for me. Let's clear away the clutter so reading can be enjoyable again. Let's write, but let's do it as well as possible. I love reading a few of you. Keep it up! I'm not stopping--unless that sound is my ten month old breaking something in the other room--Peter!?!
