I knew when I sat down to write my last post that it would garner a lot of attention. That’s what controversy does. But, I didn’t quite expect it to snowball like it did.
Wednesday saw a near record breaking amount of views in one day, and the blog has been in double digit views every day since then. Even today it’s poised and ready to tick over into double digits, and I haven’t even posted this yet.
I want to be clear. I did not write that post in order to inflate my viewership. I could less give a damn how many readers I have. I am happy just knowing I HAVE readers at all.
But, no one’s accused me of being purposefully controversial. No one’s left nasty comments. No one’s emailed me to tell me off. In fact, the reaction to the piece was overwhelmingly positive. Many of my Facebook friends left comments praising the subject as well as the actual writing. And a relative of mine asked if she could send it to members of our family that may not have seen it, because she felt it expressed a message she’d been trying to convey for most of her life, and that, maybe if our family heard the words from someone else, they might be a little more understanding.
I cried when I got that message. Not a lot. Just a welling up and a couple trickled tear drops. Because, for the first time I knew what it felt like to have my writing truly mean something to someone. And, a little bit out of heartbreak for my relative. That she could feel so alone, and helpless, unable to get our family to understand her point of view.
Because, isn’t that what we all want? Someone who understands? Isn’t that why we write? To share experiences, fictional or not, that resonate with someone you don’t even know? That’s the magic of writing. That’s what has always enraptured me about it. That, through a system of figures we’ve assigned meaning to, we can communicate and cause an emotional reaction in another human being.
A special kind of magic indeed.
Anyway, I fully expect the viewership to diminish back to its handful-a-day status, and that’s fine. It won’t keep me from writing here. Or anywhere.
The idea of obscurity always bothered me far less than that of fame.
So, let’s talk about today.
It’s a rare sunny day here in the Pacific Northwest, February exiting the building with a bang. It’s noon and already approaching 60 degrees out, and the sunshine is actually WARM!
I stood my bare feet out on my front step, soaking in the rays, letting them saturate my ghostly pale toes for the first time in months. It’s one of my favorite practices to welcome the spring.
On days off, when I’ve got the time to languish on the stoop, I’ll sit in the doorway, my feet on the single stair, and just let the pre-noon sun warm me from the toes up. That’s my favorite way to welcome the sunnier seasons.
So, I did that for the first time this year, and though I took a picture to send to my family and friends, I won’t shock you with the whiteness here.
I even opened the moon roof and cracked the windows on the drive to Starbucks, though the breeze was a little crisp. I’m willing to have goosebumps in order to soak in all the vitamin D I can get. And, as the earth rotates around the sun, the patio chairs look increasingly inviting. Maybe by 2 I can grab my book and enjoy the sunshine for an hour or two.
On the docket today is finishing chapter 4. It’s nearly there, and I woke up with some good ideas on where to take it, so I’m feeling pretty good about finishing it today.
In other news, Soundgarden’s album Superunknown is 20 years old this year. Facebook just told me, haha. I listened to it on the way in today, and found a lyric I never really appreciated before. In the titular track there is a line that goes as follows, “if this isn’t making sense, it doesn’t make it lies.”
If this isn’t making sense
It doesn’t make it lies.
And for some reason it just really meant something to me today. Two lines, totaling ten words, but that carry so much weight.
If this isn’t making sense
It doesn’t make it lies.
To me, it means that, just because you don’t understand someone’s point of view or their lifestyle, doesn’t make it wrong. The whole song is a wonderful plea for understanding and peace. But this lyric hit me today. Because, a lot of times I feel as if the way I think, or speak, doesn’t really make sense to people. I’m self-concious about seeming a bit crazy. Because there are things that I believe. Even though I know that characters in film and books aren’t real, I still believe in them.
Even here I’m having a hard time explaining.
I believe in them because, despite being works of fiction, they teach me something incredibly valuable. And while my logical mind, what little of it I have, reminds me that The Doctor will never land on my back porch and take me away on an adventure to end all adventures, my heart knows that he is real.
Because the character’s values, the shows values, are instilled in me.
This is just one example. I guess I’m trying to say that the things I’ve learned from characters helped build who I am as a person, and so they feel real to me, because they are a part of me. And I’m real.
That’s an incredibly complicated topic for another time.
Anyway, I’m rambling. My brain is heavy today. Not sure if it’s just full to bursting with fiction, or I’m fighting off a migraine.
Hopefully it’s the former.
Good day all,