I’m a Catholic, so I’ll tell you: I have a thing about confession. Not about guilt, though. Never, ever again about guilt. Just confession.
So here’s this.
Throughout the day, I’ve been commenting on your blog. On your BLOG, not so much your posts, because I’ve taken up the latest SOL challenge to try to win.. something. I forget what.
Forgetting’s not such a bad thing because the more I’ve read your body of work, the more I’ve commented, the less important the prize seems to be.
In the beginning, I had a goal of 500 comments. Yes. .. I know. I needed your blog posts to accomplish this. And.. what? 500?! (&^%$!)
I figured, when I do my posting late at night, I see an average of 230, 240 bloggers. Say there are 200 bloggers. 200 bloggers who have written blogs for .. 18? Is it 18 days?
So, assume 15 days. 15 x 200 = 3000 possible posts to peruse. Yes! And write real quick! And post real quick! And in and out! Bim! Bam! Say something smart! Key in on a phrase! Quick! Say your THING! And GET OUT!!!!! NEXT ONE!!!!!
I think I’m at 30 posts. And I don’t think I can go any faster.
So, no, I can’t do this. I’ve gone through a total of about 5 blogs of 5 writers, including you, and I have to tell you, these blogs, including yours, are the most precious, precious body of work I’ve seen on the internet. To me.
I know it sounds like nonsense.. I’ve been on the internet since before it’s dawn in ’92. Engineering student at A&M and blah.. I watched the whole thing unfold. I’ve seen everything.. but this..
What I’ve encountered is humanity. You’ve shown your humanity. You’ve shown me a part of yourself. How can I whipper-snapper-in-and-out? You don’t skip through humanity! It’d be a crime.
- I can’t dishonor the mirror of myself I see in you. You’re just like me. A teacher, who thinks, feels, lives. Struggles, hesitates, fears, loves, LOVES! has joys, polishes their optimism to live another day. Survive. Seeing someone’s thoughts — yours — Seeing what you’ve shared and revealed in each of your posts — sharing like me, in the little that I try to do. I honor you.
- I can’t fly by the wonderful heart’s love you’re putting into your writing. This is thinking — sometimes deep reflections or surface ponderings — but either way, I am seeing a peeling of the person who is you, on display for me and everyone to see. This is considerable risk, given a small or large effort. The Two Writing Teachers were right — it’s different when you put yourself out there. I saw this today, I saw you. I value you.
- I can’t not stop, consider, say hello and respond. In Writer’s Workshop, we do immersion for genre. Sometimes we immerse for author. Two summers ago, I did Salinger. Last summer, Hemingway .. still doing Hemingway. These author’s have passed on, their works are canon. What about “real” author’s blogs like Stephen King, Margaret Atwood, Jacqueline Woodson? They have blogs, Tumblr accounts. You can hear from them. And besides, I’m not like them, a writer. Yes you are. When I went through your blog, I unknowingly immersed myself in you, An Architect in the Minds of Mankind, a Teacher! Time and circumstance has placed “real” authors in a different realm, but we’re all in the same human orbit of thought and feeling. Published authors are not any less human, they’re just much less accessible. Where you and I live, in SOL-World, we have each other for support, encouragement.. joy. How could I not laud you for you? For the gift you have given me and others of yourself in your writing? I thank you.
I’ve read your lives, struggles, loves, ideas, passions, fears, hesitations, .. everything. I could have only experienced it by spending an entire 1/2 hour to 45 minutes per blog, reading what you lay on the page and make the decision to respond the way you wrote: from the heart.
In the end, I did a lot of mini-confessions in the comboxes of the blogs I visited, but I knew it’s not enough. Let me assure you: I am not a freak stalker. I am a lover of language and the humananity. This is why I loved your work, why I stayed, hung around your living room and enjoyed your stories at your invitation.
And.. I guess I did feel guilt, after all, because I couldn’t stand the “nice post!” bit. Not in a million years. Your writing was magnificent because YOU are magnificent. I can’t wait to read more.