It seems like every other week I'm early trying out a new writing program as if that will be the magic bullet that will catapult me into the blogosphere as a legitimate writer. Ain't nothing that will do that kid except you doing it. Ya gotta write, write, write. And you need to have a niche, niche, niche. Oh and yeah, you can't be anonymous.
The newest one is called Draft by a very enthusiastic young man who is probably half my age. Still, hearing him talk, I forgot I was old. I heard him and thought...cool contemporary. Such a very sad thing, this oldness before we come to acknowledge it.
An aside...I know I'm old because I keep on thinking of my life in terms of "preserving" things as in if I don't start exercising, I'm going to lose the ability to exercise willingly at all. Everything that defines who I am--my writing, my speaking, my teeth, knees, lungs, eyes, hair, skin, intellect...all of these things I keep trying to preserve. Of course in the end it's pointless, they will all be lost one day. But while I'm still 'young-old', I want to enjoy what I have...that's the plan anyway.
We'll see.
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