Why write this blog?

Too much time on my hands? Er, no! (And it's getting worse: nearly two weeks already since my last effort  shuffled out of the draft pile and emerged, blinking, into the light of day.)

Can the poor suffering world struggle by without my Message? Quite possibly.

Am I looking for an argument? Well, no again: (I already have a wife).

I thought I'd start this blog with a long and insightful post into what I am hoping to gain and what you, Dear Imaginary Reader, might like to share. But events have supervened.

And I find to my horror that the Blasted Trunk has got there first. Again.

A blog is a great way to figure out what you want to do with yourself because writing regularly is a path to self-discovery. And a blog is a great way to build a network of people who respect you for your ideas, so it is the perfect tool for helping you to attain your goals and dreams, when you know what they are. And, this pretty much covers everyone, right? The super-focused and the super-lost: You should all be blogging.

I am at the less focussed (Editor Alice assures me that either spelling is correct) end of the spectrum.  A focus will no doubt emerge from the mists.

BUT

The real goal is something to which La Trunk alludes only indirectly. In every one of the blogs I follow, the writing has got sharper and clearer from month to month and year to year. I am hoping that, plugging away in notional public, I will develop the writing muscles. I am looking for that clarity of thought and word that rings out like a bell. A bell whose master bellmaker has shaved off exactly the right amount of bronze from exactly the right places so it rings loud, pure and true. That is the only measure of writing that has ever worked for me.

It is still and will probably always be slow and painful, with many reworks and corrections. Effortless superiority is probably beyond me. I saw one of Our Hero's manuscripts once, almost illegible as every word had been scored out and rewritten at least once. Plain superiority will have to suffice. If it was good enough for him, it's good enough for me.

And here's a secret: the tinkering is actually quite fun!

A Merciful Providence has ordained that the really bad stuff is at the bottom, where (I thought) no-one will ever see it. (That plan didn't quite work, but no doubt the scars will fade in time.)