{"id":38,"date":"2005-11-04T23:14:05","date_gmt":"2005-11-04T23:14:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/2005\/11\/23\/why-i-write\/"},"modified":"2006-10-04T03:33:12","modified_gmt":"2006-10-04T03:33:12","slug":"why-i-write","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/2005\/11\/04\/why-i-write\/","title":{"rendered":"why i write"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I always fancied myself a writer &#8211; the way most scribblers of  teen-angst poetry and cheesy romance stories do.  A dozen vinyl trapper-keepers, full of short stories and novellas, are stored at my mothers.  They&#8217;re awful, but I cant bring myself to throw them away.  Just in case I do something good one day and, well, there you are.  <\/p>\n<p>In high school I didn&#8217;t care about sports and pubescent dances; but I was a rocking essayist.  In college\/university I  got excited over theses and dissertations.  Couldn&#8217;t care less about the subject matter.  I just loved research and writing.  I have  over a million words of academic discourse to my credit.  Yes.  I&#8217;ve counted.  <\/p>\n<p>Growing up I always wanted to be a writer &#8211; an author.  But people didn&#8217;t really become authors.  Authors were fantastical creatures.  Most of them dead.  I never thought of them as anything else until I read Salman Rushdie. <em> The Satanic Verses<\/em> was an assignment from my gifted professor &#8211; I was 12 and tried to get out of it, but when local teachers called for the professor&#8217;s dismissal on grounds of <em>devil worshiping<\/em>, (I&#8217;m not joking) it piqued my interest.  (The lady also had a pet snake and brought in freeze-dried cats  for dissection&#8230;&#8230;it wasn&#8217;t all <em>The Verses<\/em>&#8230;but thats another story. ) <\/p>\n<p>So Rushdie was alive.  But he had America&#8217;s then arch-enemy calling for his head &#8211; and who did that really happen to except Sylvester Stallone?  Fantastical. Yep. <\/p>\n<p>A few years later I read a John Grisham novel.  Didn&#8217;t like it, but realised people still wrote &#8211; all was not lost with Mr Clemens.<\/p>\n<p>A few years after that (bear with me) I found myself 18,000 words shy of a certain postgraduate paper.  I was watching Carrie Bradshaw (don&#8217;t say it) strut her stuff in some fancy Louboutins, reading vogue and eating a cheese sandwich.  If I could spit out 8,000 words a week on the criminal mind I could write a book.  You know.  <em>A book<\/em>.  One of those things.  <\/p>\n<p>So I wrote.   <\/p>\n<p>Until a few months ago.  I&#8217;m lazy.  You should know this.  I&#8217;m never in the mood to write what I have to write, but always in the mood.  So I took Stephen King&#8217;s advice.  A writer writes.  I may not be able to roll out <em>other novels<\/em> and a collection of shorts like the science fiction behemoth, but I can roll out a blog.  Write a little something every day.  About Writing.  See how horrible I am &#8211; in print.  Maybe find out ways to make myself  better.  Detail the search for a progressive plot, characters that don&#8217;t go stale, and an agent who can make me heard.  That sort of thing.<\/p>\n<p>As a side, Ive included bits from my work in progress.  A little something to remind me what I&#8217;m doing here.  Doubtful you care; but if you do.  Read it.  Then tell me what you think.  I can take it.  I can take it. <\/p>\n<!-- AddThis Advanced Settings generic via filter on the_content --><!-- AddThis Share Buttons generic via filter on the_content -->","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I always fancied myself a writer &#8211; the way most scribblers of teen-angst poetry and cheesy romance stories do. A dozen vinyl trapper-keepers, full of short stories and novellas, are stored at my mothers. They&#8217;re awful, but I cant bring myself to throw them away. Just in case I do something good one day and,<!-- AddThis Advanced Settings generic via filter on get_the_excerpt --><!-- AddThis Share Buttons generic via filter on get_the_excerpt --><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-38","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-hum-drum"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/38","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=38"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/38\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=38"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=38"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=38"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}