On First Words…

It’s my first post in this writer’s blog and the feeling is similar to that of writing the first word in a brand new notebook. I can already feel my inner editor encouraging the drive for perfection. The same self-criticism that makes my muse fly off to wrap herself in a cobweb blanket and curl up in the rafters of my apartment ceiling. It’s the editor’s voice that makes me hesitate before putting the pen to paper. It’s so clean and crisp and white – I’m afraid I’ll mess it up.

In my paper journals, I’ve found a way to trick my editor: I skip the first page. I pretend I wrote something incredibly dazzling and then I move on to the second page to continue with whatever drivel strikes me. The editor still hasn’t figured out how to cope with that one. So this post is my blank page. I’ll write him an entry about how much anxiety he causes me and then while he’s reading I’ll sneak through the back door to bask in the sun and write down whatever beautifully flawed works come through me.