A Stylistic Hint

I don’t really understand my writing style. Rarely can I sit down and think: now I will write something. If I can, in that situation, actually put real words on virtual paper, they usually just go right into the virtual recycle bin.

Most of the time, I start with a title. Some people may say that’s backwards, but they just have not visited my brain. I start with a title, like- “Cave Dwellers”, “Holly’s Haida Trick”, or “An Ordinary Moment”. I suppose that gives me the scope, the thesis or at least the hook. A jump-off, so it’s not a blank page I’m staring at, but a page filled! (with 3 words…)

Sometimes it’s not even a title, but just a phrase. A coincidental group of words, thrown together and haphazardly arranged, that lodges itself in my head. And until I write it down, this phrase, and all the words that should come on either side of it, it is loud and raucous- a party animal in the mind, a total instigator. All other thoughts are distracted on their commute, and most succumb, join the party, call in sick.

And so I write. And sometimes I like what I write, and sometimes I post what I like that I write. And sometimes you like what I post. And-

Anyway…

When I’m really lucky, the writing of one blog inspires the next by providing that coincidental word group. I write a phrase and read it back, feeling good about myself. Next thing I know, it has made itself at home in the middle of my mind, ordered a keg, and sent out the invitations. That’s when I know I should boil some water for tea and get comfy, it’s gonna be a two-story night.

That’s what happened last May, when I finally tackled the “Long Awaited Water Tank Blog” (I know the name doesn’t sound too inspired, but it did come first- and gave me just the motivation I needed to start writing). I was clicking away, purposefully listing off supplies and painfully recalling the epoxy mess, when I got a bit too excited talking about baffles.

Step Seven- Make Baffles.    Baffles are blockades inside water tanks to baffle the water so the molecules can’t band together and plan an escape, using momentum to throw themselves violently from one side of the tank to the other. In our case, they are 2 pieces of fiberglass cut to trisect the tank, with several holes to allow the passive water through.

Do you know yet?

I perfect as I write. If I don’t like it at the end of the night, I will likely never like it. While I am great at editing and proofreading other people’s work, I loathe returning to a piece I have written a week later and trying to make it better. Perhaps that’s why I’m in such an argument with my resume right now…

I wrote this last blog in May, immediately upon completing the water tank blog, with the steady rain on the cabin top as company. I read it, satisfied, and put it away. One epic blog post in a night is plenty. When I pulled it back out yesterday, I read it again. Satisfied, still, I posted it without changing a word. I like raw writing. I like the sound of rain when I’m warm and cozy writing on the boat. I like riddles.

How about now?