It's a Writer's Life for me....

...You know, I'm going to take a few paragraphs for myself today. It's a bit of a rule with myself that I avoid speaking about my personal life, or about things that are only related to me, and not to the world at large, but I'm going to touch for a moment on something that I find to be a passion of mine.

Writing.

As a photographer clicks the shutter, a pianist tinkles the ebony and ivory keys, and as a painter swipes each brush stroke, their art comes to life. It breathes, it hums with energy, and it creates a burning desire to do more and more, and that same feeling comes across with writers. With each word that is typed, written or thought, a symphony begins to play inside our heads that makes us want to put what's rattling around in our coconut out in the world for all to read.

Sadly, everyone feels that they are adept at writing now. Just like everyone with a cell phone camera feels like they are a photographer, or everyone with autotune feels they can write a hit song. The blogoshpere is flooded with mundane, illegible bullshit that can only be described as drivel.

Morons write about their cat. Whiners write about who has wronged them in life, and why they aren't pushing further and beyond. Idiots (the majority) write about everything that just means nothing.

I personally feel that a world in which "status updates" and "tweets" limits your intelligence to 140 characters or less, is a world that is killing the idea of writing.

Most people I know don't read books, because it takes too long to get into, it's so boring, or they "don't have the attention span right now". I personally believe it's because of the time commitment. A movie is 2 hours long. The story begins, and ends within that two hours. No long term commitment.

Yet, we writers continue to write. Our books barely get published, our scripts barely read, and our blogs have little traffic if they go over 2 paragraphs. I can practically hear the grumble and groan that comes from friends when they see my blog. "Ohhhhhh....I don't have time for this right now."

Is a painter a painter if no one sees his artwork?

Is a pianist a pianist if no one hears him play?

Sometimes I wonder, "Am I truly a writer, if no one reads my work?"

Intelligence is something we writers pride ourselves on. We can punctuate properly. We can spell words that barely anyone knows exist. We string together sentences that feel like poetry, when all it is, is the news.

Yet, in a world that is constantly on a downward slide down the Intelligence Ramp, we writers are the first to die.

A city in Texas now has no bookstore. I read this, and it nearly broke my heart. The necessity of books depleted to a point that the last bookstore went bankrupt.

But, sadly, as masochistic as it is...we writers keep writing. I have two novels in production as we speak, and with the dying breed of the paperback...I fear they will never be published.

Yet I keep writing.

I stay passionate. I stay strong. I stay fierce.

I am a writer.

Because I write.

-Johnny