IWADASN

I know, that’s a strange title, but bear with me. First, there’s only so much room for a title.  If it runs more than a few words, the reader can get bored and confused.  Second, titles should be interesting to capture the readers’ interest.  Third, you can disguise a cliché and make it sound exotic. So it was that “It Was a Dark and Stormy Night” became “ITWADASN”.

 

Let’s get started. Writing on demand is like being told to “smile” in the face of some intrusive lens staring into your soul.  I guess the eyes are the window to the soul.  But why not other orifices?  Gastroenterologists have a totally different view of the soul, I suspect.

 

Anyway, I digress. Writing on demand is difficult.  It’s like trying to tell a joke only have remembered.  Half way through it you realize you forgot the punchline or missed a key detail in the run up to it.  Now what?  You’re standing there exposed as a fraud.  You are no more a comedian than your pet snake.

 

What about painting on demand. Who can forget the agony as you hold your paintbrush in hand terrified to make the first move while your art teacher urges you on.  It’s only a stupid flower.  Yes, I know I can paint anything I want if I don’t like to paint flowers.  How about painting a sign, “I hate art, please save me”.  I press on as the rest of the class merrily produces fine art soon to be displayed proudly on the school walls for all to admire.  Finally finished, Mrs. Brown congratulates me on my wonderful picture of an ostrich.  I nodded, failing to mention it was actually a picture of her.  It was a pretty passable ostrich now that I think about it.

 

So back to the writing. IWADASN.  Let’s review this.  First, do I really care about the weather?  Besides, who is making this observation?  Is it a qualified meteorologist?  Their forecasts aren’t too great even with all their training.  Oh yes, then there is the definition of “stormy”.  For some it may be a shower.  For others, it would be a tidal wave sweeping all before it to a certain death.  Still others may think of a rain storm as “soothing”.  This later group doesn’t count.  They are a bunch of wacko artists and probably tree huggers too.

 

I know you think “stormy” might be a metaphor for one’s internal psychic state. You are probably in the latter group noted above.  But even if that is true, do we really care about the writer’s inner state?  Shouldn‘t that be private, between himself or herself (note: PC for modern readers) and his or her (note: still PC) psychiatrist?

 

Speaking of modern readers, they have probably already abandoned ship (note: excellent use of both cliché and metaphor!). Any writing more than five minutes in length is unworthy of the modern readers’ precious time.  Don’t forget, time must be conserved for sending endless tweets about your personal wanderings and thoughts, as well as e-mails showing the latest pose of your canary as it devours a piece of lettuce that strangely resembles the visage of our current President.

 

Farewell readers…

 

Anon