Friday, January 27, 2012

Loving To Read Does Not A Writer Make




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At this moment, after thinking deeply about it for quite some time, I am pretty well convinced that I should stop expecting that I will become a successful professional writer.

I'm 72 years old, fer Crimany Sakes!

This conclusion does not mean I will stop writing. It means that I should stop attempting to write creatively in the vain hope that readers might actually enjoy my (so obviously contrived) novels, my (so laboriously composed) short stories, and my (laughably amateurish) poems.

But I can still produce these off-the-cuff, admittedly pedestrian blog entries.

Why not? I take pleasure from doing so. What better goal to aim for than to create pleasure for myself? Writing in my blog without aspiring to professionalism essentially gives me the same kind of pleasure I take from reading all kinds of books, and from watching reruns of popular (low-class?) TV situation comedies.

Why not, indeed?

One can always create a journal, not only a public blog but a diary-like private journal using either a spiral notebook within which to physically print your entries, or a digital journal in which to enter private thoughts and all those bizarre (far-out?) ideas that occur to you.

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Born On This Day



January 27, 1921 - January 14, 1986


Well do I remember Donna Reed. From her memrable performance in the Christmas classic, It's a Wonderful Life with Jimmy Stewart. From her portrayal of Lorene, the dance hall prostitute in From Here To Eternity, for which she won an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress. And, from, of course, The Dona Reed Show.


And Donna Reed is Lorene in this YouTube clip from the film, From Here To Eternity with Montgomery Clift and Frank Sinatra.

God, she was beautiful.
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Sarah Chalke


Dr. Elliot Reid on Scrubs

I have no particular reason for posting the above unrelated to reading or writing picture except that I like it... a lot. Viewing it gives me great pleasure.

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The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.
--Anais Nin

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