Ruckus Scooter Love
Monday, December 12, 2016
Sometimes I don't blog for days, weeks, months at a time. I used to blog all the time. I would create "blog" moments after a scooter ride and post photos and write all about my experience. It was so much fun and so gratifying, that putting of thought and experience into words.
Such is the nature of writing, for me anyway. There is a gratification and a joy in "saying it just so", conveying that emotion, describing that moment, person, or place.
Who or what benefits from all this? Maybe a few people read it and enjoy it or become inspired or enlightened. Some I hear from, most I never know about.
I enjoyed concocting it, but I did not get paid a dime for it. I read other's writings where I know they got paid for it and I think, "Geeze, that was crap!" And they got paid for this crap?
"Getting paid" is not why I blog or write. If I got paid, that would be nice. But I don't go looking for it. Yet.
I say "yet" because I have been told over and over "you oughta write about..." this or that time, this or that experience, this or that whatever in my life.
Yeah, I "oughta". And I want to. I've got books in me and I know it and I am approaching a time when I will get up and spend my morning writing about "this or that". Books.
The inevitable direction of all this is, yeah, I'd like them published somewhere and I would not mind at all being a "published author". Even if it's a "vanity press" or "Amazon" self-published book.
I've thought of a "serial" novel where readers subscribe and pay to read installments. Thought of it. No idea how to make that happen on the web. None. No one to ask either. Guess I'd better get moving on the research on that too.
Why all this rambling now? I just filed for my Social Security retirement last month and will get it in the spring. I will keep working part-time doing contract health care work a few hours a week and working my on-line collectibles store for a bit of money. Maybe delivering some flowers at holiday time.
But I am in the process of really pondering how I want to spend my "retirement time". Not sure why I am pondering all this. Maybe it's a sense of mortality creeping up more and more. Don't want to miss anything, waste anytime. And now I will have much less financial stress to hinder my soul from pouring out profound thoughts on blogs or laptops or tablets or whatever.
I've got books in me. Essays. Stories about country living, angels, living in Europe as a child, growing up an Army brat, working the back roads of Appalachia in health care, being a caregiver, living among the Amish, riding a scooter from here to there, frugal living, growing older in America, etc.
Books in me.
What to do, what to do?