Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Writing, To Me

I have to admit over the past seven years I have had success in the book-writing part of my life. Last week my eleventh book, "A Hilltop in Jymbob," was released. (Number twelve is being released later this year.) Unfortunately, I do not have any magical explanation for my success. For that matter, nor do I have any profound advice to others hoping to have books published. I write because there is a not-so-hidden force inside me that compels me to do. Whatever success I might have in my efforts to communicate, I am never more effective than I am when I write. Those times when I am asked for an opinion, I am most comfortable when my fingers do the talking.

I very much relate to the feelings of Oliver Wendell Holmes regarding writing when he said he had "tasted the intoxicating pleasure of authorship" and, as a result, was driven to keep enjoying that sensation. This blog, in large part, is motivated by that addiction. At present, I have made over one thousand entries and have no desire to stop. Of course I want people to read it, but if no one does, then that's ok. "Why Communication Matters" is primarily for me any way. I write to be heard even if the only one listening is me. I see this act as a solitary action carried out in a public setting. Writers write to be read. I am comfortable if I am the only one who reads me.

One final point I will make here is that if one is going to be an effective communicator, then it is key that they have something to say. A point of view is vital. While babbling may serve some purpose, off hand I cannot think what it might be. Communicating without a purpose - even a small one - is little more then babbling. I do my best to never ever babble. In addition, I do my best to have something to say regardless of whether I am speaking or writing. My constant challenge remains in trying do that well. How well I might do may be questionable, but it is never without the deepest sense of gratitude that I am able to try.

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