I took this past Sunday off and went to Barnes and Nobel (my mommy hide out) and then to a movie. While at B&N I snagged a few books for myself one of which was Julie & Julia. No, I didn't go see the movie right after.
I've been reading a little of the book every night before I go to bed and I am now three days into it and completely hooked. She is a writer (*ding), who works as a temp and undertakes a blog (*ding) in which she chronicles her attempt to cook (**ding, ding!) her way through a cookbook in one year. I love this book and I'm only 60 pages in.
Last night I was reading and she was explaining her Julie/Julia Project to her mother. Her mother's response, "Buy why, Julie?"
It stuck with me. I dreamed it. I woke up and drank it with my coffee. I scrubbed it into the porcelain of my toilet and the granite of my counters. I've been itching all day to get back to the computer so I can chew on it and break it down for my own life.
"Why, Sarah? Why are you undertaking this blogging project?" In order to answer that I have to back up to a more basic question. "Why write at all?"
Because it's what I want. I've mentioned before that Erma Bombeck is one of my heroes. I love her humor. I love Patrick McManus for the same reason and one of my favorite books of all time is Summer of the Monkeys by Wilson Rawles. Now I add Julie Powell and her quirky, wordy adventures to my list and I discover that I want to be on someones list. I want someone to see my name on a coming soon poster and be as giddy as I was when I saw Dan Brown's name on Sunday. I don't necessarily want the rabid, raving, borderline obsessives that J.K. Rowling has but the idea that my words could have that potential is what keeps me dreaming.
Because it's in me. In my head; in my heart; in my bones and in my blood. I have always been subject to flights of imagination. I think I took three completely unnecessary courses in college simply because I would "have" to write. There is something about taking a topic or idea and twisting it on its side or finding an angle that is overlooked that intrigues me. It's an adventure with words. It's a challenge and it can sometimes stretch my brain when I am paused searching the crevices of my mind for the perfect word to capture my ideas.
Because it is my sanity. You would never begin to know the number of drafts that go the way of the delete button simply because it is total brain junk that just had to come out. If my internet provider charged by the character we would have to take a second mortgage. It allows me to reach out anonymously to random and not so random people and add to their lives or impact them or make them think or simply entertain them.
Why tell you why I write?
Because it's what I've been thinking about. And after all this is THOUGHTS from the Toilet Bowl.
Salad for Breakfast! by Brenda
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