I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD-SLAPS, SPEED-BUMPS and LIGHT-BULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.



Saturday, July 20, 2013

fame, little f small font



I was recognized again, twice this week and this from the head-shot which accompanied my column in a paper I haven’t written for in six months.

It’s weird, I’m shopping and someone says, “...aren’t you the writer who...” or “...you write a column don’t you?”

I’ve blogged about being recognized before and while not wanting to boast or appear self-centered it’s a kick for a stranger to acknowledge my writing efforts. They always have something positive to say about my columns except for one article; it was a fun piece but the timing of its publication sucked.  As it should - tragedy trumps clever.

I wonder when people will forget, when local readers will no longer put my face and what I communicate, together as a writing package. The newspaper I write for now, higher volume more bucks, does not print a head-shot with the column. The readership, though considered by them as local - considered by me really isn’t. I don’t look my readers in the eye anymore unless I head across the Connecticut River and they wouldn’t have a clue who I was anyway. Maybe that’s a good thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love, love, love where I am now. I used to live and work over-there so I’m getting emails and connecting with folks I have lost touch with, even family members are chiming in. They don’t need a pic...yee haw, they already know my name.

Having said that, it’s still a kick though, to be squeezing cucumbers or thumping cantaloupes and someone I have never met says, “...I know you, you write. Love your column and honeydews are buy one get one this week.” I humbly said thank you and bought the melons.


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