Making It Happen

Making it happen. A simple statement of a matter of fact nature. Yet also one of the hardest things to make yourself do. First you have to define what it is. It for me, for the longest of time, has been to become a writer. This blog is a minor attempt to fulfill that dream. As far back as I can remember, I have wanted to be one. Someone to fill the imagination of others with self-imposed notions to guide the reader on a journey. When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I wrote poetry. Nothing spectacular, just writing about what I knew at the time. My first dog, having my first child, getting married, etc., but mostly I had no skills other than trying to write in a metered approach and making words rhyme while telling a story. Nonetheless, I enjoyed writing and still have that notebook of poetry today. Something my kids will find in my desk after I’m gone and hopefully enjoy. Serious writing and the desire to fictionalize came about thinking about how other writers methodically approached writing. These are the people that turn out books almost seamlessly. I’m not talking about people we know in the public eye that write tell-all books or tackle some current event thing happening like politics and the ever-changing landscape of the two political parties that, frankly, resemble nothing I grew up with and have become so polarized that if you are someone considered a centrist, then you are the scourge of the earth except of course when they are shmoozing you for your vote.  After more than thirty years of writing technically for work with the occasional purpose of a justification document that actually required some level of skill and imagination, but still wasn’t telling a story. Fast forward to retirement and feeling some sense of loss in creativity and realizing that writing could also fill another purpose of memory stability as I get older. Two things happened, I discovered writing a children’s book of twenty pages wasn’t as easy as one might think and I began writing a blog.

My blog, Opinions Mumbled, was a funny thing in coming about. I think Jen and I were riding around and she said something that I mumbled back some response she couldn’t quite know what I was saying in response. She said stop mumbling your opinion and either say or not. I chose not, of course. My first blog was called Under Your Breathe, which I made a mistake on adding the e to breath. It was due to me thinking about the bi-line comment of just breathe. Anyway, I lived with that for the first year of writing, and when I finally was able to renew my lock on a name, I changed to Opinions Mumbled, which made more sense, although speaking under my breath has long been a norm when I don’t like something. Seemingly though, they really are saying the same thing, I just needed to correct the spelling error that bugged me for a year. The new tag seems to fit me better and with my picture of looking down at my feet dangling from the back of the truck, they seemed to go hand in hand.

The adventure in what to write, really boils down to clearing my head on things that get stuck there, not quite being able to clear my mind of them. Many times, it was things that pissed me off, like Donald Trump and his idiotic ways. He can’t live with the fact that more people despise him than love him. He provided many days of material to write about and now almost four years after leaving the office kicking and crying about there was no way he could lose without the system being rigged. He just couldn’t believe he lost and then those hypocrites that support him or the dumb shits that believe every word spooned into their little brains, it just is and will be for years to come a phenomenon with no real imaginable explanation. So many of the Trump party have sold their souls to the devil himself and have accepted being whipping boys for his amusement. Not failing to mention that he is just a criminal in a suit with no morals or principles other than people bowing to him and him gaining total control of this ultimate control be president. If you are under some other illusion, then it is obvious you are just one of his minions. Sad how many of my family can see past utilizing their brain to understand there might be a better way than just doing something because a party affiliation means more than their own sensibility of people and advancing life beyond a hate filled past. Argh, see this guy just pisses me off and I lose my train of thought and intention of what I was actually writing about.

I’ll try to get back on track. My blog hasn’t just been about the things I get irritated about, it also has given me a platform to talk about people or things that mean something to me. I’ve never been really good about the emotional gushiness in public. I’m more private than that and I assume is due to my introverted tendencies. I have written and published over a hundred articles and at the same time have written a few of the children’s books that were floating around in my head. I’ve written three but have lost steam in doing it because what every children’s writer needs, a good illustrator, because although words are read by the parents, kids love to look at the pictures and the pictures need to tell the story for you too. I also wrote a book for my kids and grandkids detailing who I am and what I’ve done throughout my life but haven’t published due to how it seems to me as being narcissistic. But it also helped me remember things throughout my life that seemed important and from that standpoint, I feel it was a success in effort. I still haven’t finished it and may never really finish it as I keep adding chapters based on life continuing in my life.

Writing is important to me and the more I do it the more I really want to share a story with more and more people. Right now, my audience is small although my blog is open to the public. I do seem to have a lot of people that read it and either have no skill with the English language or are making spam comments. I haven’t decided yet how I feel about it and maybe I should just create having to have a subscription to enter, read, and comment. I’ll keep plugging away at it and find my path and maybe I’ll even get over the hump of being able to write a novel. Seems like work, but maybe that is what I need to subside some of these internal urges that I never know quite how to interpret.