Why I write

I can’t imagine that there’s anyone out there that actually cares what I think, or what I want to write about. I’m not narcissistic enough to believe that what I say will really impact anyone out there. But I put these thoughts out into the ether in hopes that maybe, someday, someone will read them and something will resonate with them. Is that you? Maybe. Maybe not.

I read The Princess Diarist by Carrie Fisher last night while at work. In it are exerpts from her journals during the shooting of A New Hope. The way she writes… While I enjoyed the book, her writing made me feel inadequate. I mean really, who talks like that? Especially in something that they assume that no one will ever read other than themselves? I’ve read a number of things that do that same thing recently. Blogs I can kind of understand as the whole point of them is for other people to read them. But some of the prose that’s used, the wording, the cadence, just sometimes reads as kind of forced.

One interesting thing I noticed in Carrie Fisher’s writings is that you can definitely see some of the bipolar coming through, they have a bit of a manic-y feel to them. Overall an interesting read if you like Carrie Fisher or are into Star Wars.

I’ve got nothing else today. Vacation started at 630 this morning and my brain is mush.

 

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