To Write or Not to Write

In an uncharacteristic move, I stepped away from the motorcycle over the weekend to attend the first meeting of the Monadnock Writers’ Group’s 26th season. It seemed timely as the back flared up again in twinges of pain at the slightest move, and I had a bushel of chores to deal with, which had grown and festered unattended since the last bit of snow melted from the drive last spring. It wasn’t easy let me tell you. Not only were there motorcycles everywhere to be seen, but they were traveling in miles long convoys.

I once witnessed above, the most glorious assembly of geese flying in formation. More geese than one could count, on the wing well into the heavens. They were so small and yet so immensely large by their sheer volume in numbers, that it stirred my soul. The faint and distant sound of their call raised the flesh on my arms and the back of my neck. Watching the motorcycle convoys pass was like that. All were intent on a destination only they knew. Yet, the muffled rumble of engines, the graceful way they leaned into the turn one behind the other in graceful formation brought to mind those geese of long ago.

As is my habit, the emotion turned to desire to express in the written word, not only that I saw a hundred motorcycles, but how it felt, inside my soul, and have you feel it too. I’m not always sure that my expression touches you, but that it feeds my desire to set the vision free is satisfying in itself. So imagine my shock, when in the course of dialog with our guest author, I heard the comment, “if you are blogging, you’re not writing.” While I was taken aback by this, I can also understand it from some points of view. I suppose if you are intent on your novel, blogging may seem a distraction. Then too, some people have a novel inside them. I have moments to precious to keep in a silk covered journal with a tiny lock.

I have to admit that I have met people who boldly told me they were riders too, only to discover they rode a 50cc scooter. I confess I did snicker behind my hand after they left. Maybe that is how novelists view us bloggers? We tell them “we write too!” They nod and smile and then snicker behind our backs. Well, I have learned a valuable lesson in all this. Who am I to say a scooter owner is not a true rider? They may be even more courageous than most! Those cars and trucks are terribly large and formidable not to mention FAST and any scooter that can survive those dangers deserves some credit.

So please forgive my boldness at describing myself a writer, but it will not keep me from expressing wellsprings of joy, heart wrenching grief or moments of wonder. Every day cannot be a novel, but every day is something to celebrate and write about.