Lookout Mountain, Chattanooga

Saturday, March 26, 2011

I Walk the Line

Me, me, me . . . it’s all about me.  I’ll just have to face that blogging is the ultimate in self-indulgence.  Are you interested in what I write?  Really?  Do you find my prose irresistible or my talent undeniable?  Will I teach you something, reduce you to laughter, or cause you to groan in pain?   If your head’s been bobbing, I’ve hit the jackpot—an audience that understands me.  It’s what any writer lives for.  (Or, if you prefer the olden days of outlawed preposition-ending sentences:  It’s that for which any writer lives—such a noble-sounding sentiment, indeed.)

Speaking of audience, mine is twofold:  folks in the writing field and personal friends and family.  Pleasing both will be a constant tightrope-writing exercise.  I just hope the net is strong.

New word for the day:  funambulist.  It means “one who walks on a tightrope.”  You and I are all funambulists.  Our whole lives our balancing acts—in the way we care for our families and ourselves, in the way we interact with others. 

I feel like a funambulist with the publishing of my new book.  I’m living in the heat of the moment with nerves of steel and chin up.  Since I do so like the view from the air, maybe my balance will remain perfect and the wire will lead somewhere.  I can only hope.

So here’s your hint for the day:  Put some fun in your ambulism!  If you fall, aim for the net.

No comments:

Post a Comment