Tuesday, March 09, 2004

En arche

My very own blog.... As easy as it is to get space on this worldwide forum, I feel like I've been presented with a blank book that will be published whether or not it's good, as long as I put the effort into crafting it. That feels pretty good compared to the rejection letters a rookie freelancer is so accustomed to.

And as a novice blogger, I also have very little loyalty to an audience. I have no devoted fan club of webnerds who loyally read my posts as they chug their espresso during the first drowsy half-hour of work each morning. This is my first post of my first blog, and in the eyes of the world, it doesn't matter if I never post again. I'll simply become one out of thousands of wanna-be writers who signed up for a free blog, hungry to be published, but who vanished as quickly as they came.

But to me, it matters. Writing is therapeutic--and it is just as much an exercise in self-discipline as it is an opportunity to be read--and the world could use more people who write with consistency and regularity. We certainly don't need another one-book bestselling author who's hot today and not tomorrow.

So, to open what may hopefully become an archive of thoughts, I call upon an American writer for my preface and disclaimer (who, incidentally, is one of my least favorite poets, yet has a poem that perfectly suits this purpose):

This is my letter to the World

This is my letter to the World,
That never wrote to me--
The simple News that Nature told--
With tender Majesty

Her Message is committed
To Hands I cannot see;
For love of Her--Sweet--countrymen--
Judge tenderly--of Me!

--Emily Dickinson

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