John D. McDonald (remember him?) said to me: “I hate to write; I only like having written.” Most writers can relate to that.
My friend offered me his own opinion about my blogging: “It’s boring.”
He is most certainly qualified to judge and others right along with him.
He is, however, reading what is evidently a terrific novel: The Hummingbird’s Daughter. He read a part over the phone for some fifteen minutes. I enjoyed it. I looked for it on the internet, first encountering Barnes & Noble which has a handful of buyer reviews. Surely, it seemed to me, for such a good book it should have more reviews. I went to Amazon and found seventy-seven (link above).
This current novel and others were written by Luis Alberto Urrea - and because my friend can’t role R’s, Urrea became urea. Urea is found in mammal urine; not the idea here at all. There is no point in correcting someone who cannot role R’s.
After assuring me that what I blog is boring, he asked, “What’s it for, anyway?”
When I asked that same question, I was informed that blogs are sometimes stream-of-consciousness. I now know someone who has many blogs about health and nutrition. There’s a dedicated blog called When Rain Hurts that I admire, the story of a boy adopted from Russia with fetal alcohol syndrome (some people do not send their children back). These blogs are not boring to me, but might be to others. Even non-human animals have opinions, and those are most often very amusing.
My friend asked, “So why are you writing them?”
“Because my go-to person insisted that I should put myself Out There so my name will be familiar along with my thoughts and opinions - accepted or not.”
“My first novel will be published in a few months. It’s being copyedited.”
“Whyn’t you do that yourself?”
“For the same reason surgeons try to avoid cutting into members of their own families.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No it’s not. But I’m neither so foolish nor so arrogant to believe I can edit my own work and find everything that is amiss.”
“I still think your blogs are boring. And who reads them, anyway?”
“I began writing them about two weeks ago. It takes time. And by all means, if you make a positive comment just for fun, do not attach your name to them or me. I wouldn’t want your friends to think you’re stupid.”
Perhaps I should take his opinion very seriously. Heaven and my go-to person know how much I dislike writing blogs when I should/could be working on novels.
BTW, he read the first chapter of another of my books and was confused by a busy country kitchen in 1914. I don’t understand it - he’s very smart - maybe he’s also very wise. I’ll ponder that for at least a week.
I’m not joking.
To listen and not hear is perhaps to miss very important information.