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2004-06-03

My Writing

�Humor is emotional chaos remembered in tranquility.� � James Thurber

Perhaps this is why I can recall tragic moments with a smile. Like the time I got a flat tire on the freeway and tripped over that dead dog. I mean, shit that happens that REALLY sucks NOW most always ends up being a great story later. I learned that a long time ago. I could turn my shitty moments into entertainment for friends, and therefore entertainment for myself, and suddenly I was thankful to have those moments in the first place.

Speaking of interesting moments, I had a great meeting with my new boss-man yesterday afternoon. When he asked me, �Who are your influences? What do you read that taught you to write?� All I could think of was the hundreds of historical romance novels I read growing up, and Dean Koontz, whose poetic prose and magical suspense have held me captivated for over a decade. Boss man was expecting something literary. He must get that all the time. When you�re going for a job in writing and someone asks you who you are inspired by, I can see the desire to try and come up with a name that will impress or give some kind of idea as to your style.

But this is the deal � I don�t KNOW what my style is. I have been writing for myself, daily, either poetry or diaries, since I was a child. I am influenced by everything I read, and I enjoy reading bubblegum fiction and the dictionary. I don�t know the great authors, the literary authors. Someone recently wrote to me that I am his favorite writer, �right up there with Sylvia Plath.� I�ve never read her. I�ve never taken a creative writing class. If I had to describe my style, I would say I honed my writing in such a way that if I were to pick up one of my journals a year after writing an entry, I would understand exactly what I meant and exactly what I was feeling the moment I wrote it.

It�s all been for me until now. I�ve never had anyone critique it, change it, suggest changes to it� it�s just been so personal. I�ve always wanted to share. Last night, after a poetry reading, I came home with M.s. and pulled out my books (the ones I�ve written). I wanted to read it ALL, I wanted to read it all TO him. Validation of my existence? Confirmation of my growth? Vanity in action? Or allowing myself to become as vulnerable as I can to the man I love? Perhaps all of the above. This writing for a grand audience, about my life, about me, good and bad� it�s another step across the long bridge of effective communication that I�ve been trying to cross since childhood. Let�s see how far I can get.

-Barbarella

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2007-05-19
NEW SITE!!!!

2007-05-16
Links and Update

2007-05-09
Two Links

2007-05-06
Yes, Even MORE new pictures

2007-05-06
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My Writing 2004-06-03 12:16 p.m.

�Humor is emotional chaos remembered in tranquility.� � James Thurber

Perhaps this is why I can recall tragic moments with a smile. Like the time I got a flat tire on the freeway and tripped over that dead dog. I mean, shit that happens that REALLY sucks NOW most always ends up being a great story later. I learned that a long time ago. I could turn my shitty moments into entertainment for friends, and therefore entertainment for myself, and suddenly I was thankful to have those moments in the first place.

Speaking of interesting moments, I had a great meeting with my new boss-man yesterday afternoon. When he asked me, �Who are your influences? What do you read that taught you to write?� All I could think of was the hundreds of historical romance novels I read growing up, and Dean Koontz, whose poetic prose and magical suspense have held me captivated for over a decade. Boss man was expecting something literary. He must get that all the time. When you�re going for a job in writing and someone asks you who you are inspired by, I can see the desire to try and come up with a name that will impress or give some kind of idea as to your style.

But this is the deal � I don�t KNOW what my style is. I have been writing for myself, daily, either poetry or diaries, since I was a child. I am influenced by everything I read, and I enjoy reading bubblegum fiction and the dictionary. I don�t know the great authors, the literary authors. Someone recently wrote to me that I am his favorite writer, �right up there with Sylvia Plath.� I�ve never read her. I�ve never taken a creative writing class. If I had to describe my style, I would say I honed my writing in such a way that if I were to pick up one of my journals a year after writing an entry, I would understand exactly what I meant and exactly what I was feeling the moment I wrote it.

It�s all been for me until now. I�ve never had anyone critique it, change it, suggest changes to it� it�s just been so personal. I�ve always wanted to share. Last night, after a poetry reading, I came home with M.s. and pulled out my books (the ones I�ve written). I wanted to read it ALL, I wanted to read it all TO him. Validation of my existence? Confirmation of my growth? Vanity in action? Or allowing myself to become as vulnerable as I can to the man I love? Perhaps all of the above. This writing for a grand audience, about my life, about me, good and bad� it�s another step across the long bridge of effective communication that I�ve been trying to cross since childhood. Let�s see how far I can get.