Why do writers write? Let us count (and recount) the reasons . . .

 

The Permanent Cousinsly Record
Leading to: Know thyself!

DebK of Rosemount: “For weeks now, I’ve been pestering my cousin Linda to share with the BB community a sampling of her always-entertaining emails. I’m getting nowhere, a failure I initially attributed to the fact that Linda and I descend from a long line of folks who are (were) masters of the art of procrastination. It’s a genetic inheritance that’s kept us from amounting to much, for which (generally speaking) the rest of the world can be deeply grateful.

 

“It turns out that Linda’s reluctance to join the BB fun is more complicated than mere procrastination. It’s clear to me that she overthinks things. This whole writing conversation is a case in point. I exhorted her recently to submit a delightful anecdote about her grandmother, a simple request that elicited (from Linda) an exhaustive examination of the reasons famous people write. (I blame her Smith College education for this.) She informed me that Harper Lee viewed writing as ‘a self-exploratory process . . . an exorcism of divine discontent’; that Flannery O’Connor wrote ‘because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say ‘; that some fellow named Gao Xingjan writes because doing so ‘eases [his] suffering’ and is his ‘way of reaffirming [his] existence’; that Paolo Coelho (another author whose works have never made the stack on my bedside table) writes ‘to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance.’

“Linda then shifted the focus of the discussion to me: ‘Why do you write?’

“A better person — a brighter person — would have wrestled with this question, done a little soul-searching and come up with something profound. I decided to go with the truth: ‘I write to see my name in the paper.’”

BULLETIN BOARD ADDS: . . . and/or on some blog.

Others’ motivations are welcome at BB.onward@gmail.com.

The Permanent Grandsonsly Record

The Gram With A Thousand Rules: “A photo memory from a land far away and 25 long years ago. I’d forgotten how much color I captured in this photo of my Aussie grandsons feeding the hungry kangaroo.”

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Oopps!
Leading to: They stand by their great comeback!

Helena Handbasket: “Subject: La Crosse Tribune.

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“This is funnier than the comic. I complimented the editor on the levity and brevity.”

Our theater of seasons
Photography Division

Mounds View Swede writes: “We were able to visit Maryland and D.C. in 2015, too, and went back to Brookside Gardens to take another look. The main tulip display was completely different, so they probably change it every year to keep things interesting. The tulips were still striking in their mass plantings, but completely different in color.

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“We haven’t been back to those gardens since. This year, we were on the early side because they had forecast\ an early spring bloom, but then the snow and cold came. We are there to visit relatives as our main focus. The flowers photos I get are bonuses.

“The Minnesota Landscape Arboretum also does a comparable display of tulips, so those should soon be available for viewing.”

Live and learn!
Including: Everyone’s a (fruit) critic!

Al B of Hartland remembers: “We played softball in a pasture. It was a wonderful activity. It taught us to make do with bats nailed together and softballs clutched by tape. Gloves were shared, as were victories and defeats. The bases were cobbled together from what was available. First base was a sow thistle, second base was a dried cow pie, third was someone’s younger brother and home plate was an anthill filled with angry fans.

“Age and ability covered a large spectrum. It was a learning experience. We learned good and bad things.

“As I sat on ground far from home plate, using a broken shoestring to repair my fifth-hand glove, a couple of older boys convinced me that they knew of some pears that needed to be stolen. They told me that the owner of the pear tree didn’t eat them and that he was a cranky old codger. I figured he was cranky because someone was stealing his pears, but I joined in the mischief-making anyway. Boys are nearly always waiting for an opportunity to be led astray.

“The purloined pears proved unworthy of swiping. They were dreadful. Pears have interesting lives. Pears are too hard. Then they have a 10-minute window when they are delicious before becoming too soft. A stolen pear adds a taste of regret.”

 

Band Name of the Day: The Hungry Kangaroos

Website of the Day: One talented chameleon.

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