Ok. I am officially a blogger. To be honest, that term is under a list in my head titled “lame”. I’m a writer. Writer is a fantastic word. There’s no silly double letter (and g of all letters- how giggle worthy). It puts the facts on the table, it lays down the law, it does what no human being can ever seem to manage: it says exactly what it means.
Writer: (n.) one who writes
But guess what? Writers don’t have this simple, accessible forum for spewing thoughts, rants, poems, stories, or just really long Facebook statuses/tweets. Guess who DOES have that kind of forum? Bloggers.
So like I said, I’m officially a blogger. (:
I’ve been writing ever since I can remember, really. My first actual story had something to do with a talking, mystery-solving Labrador. I had planned to make millions off of that one, but I think Air Bud stole a little of what would have been my credibility. Since then, it’s been a mix of horrible poetry, decent short stories, and one rough, rough, rough novel.
Then I became a teacher, trying desperately to relay my ecstatic feeling toward pen and paper to my students (mostly to no avail of course). And my writing? Well, it’s been playing second fiddle for a while now. But I am determined to not let the children win! Hence, blogger. Editing my novel? Pshhh, I don’t have time, I have to teach text structures to 100 pubescent creatures. But blogging? Oh yeah, I can squeeze that in, sure.
Breakdown In Mind: Teacher Antics, 30%; Philosophical Pessimistic Bullshit, 15%; Terrible Poetry, 10%; Life in Hawaii AKA This Rock I Live On, 10%; Short Stories and Novel Exerpts, 5%; Hilarious Quotes, Sarcasm, and Everything Else, the remaining 30%
I mean, it has a double G for crying out loud. How serious can this possibly be?