The King (you know who) says writing must behold truth. I can write about the alien that takes laps in my cereal as long as I write with truth. So if that alien comes from the planet ‘Swearsalot” my alien better have a mouth that rivals prison potties. Unless of course my alien has a church lady sensitivity–perhaps the very reason he’s in my cereal?
When I think about truth and writing, naturally my brain wanders to this blog. Am I typing words that are true?
How transparent is honesty anyway? Can one produce drivel with traces of truth?
drivel |ˈdrivəl| noun
silly nonsense: don’t talk such drivel!verb (drivels, driveling, driveled; Brit. drivels, drivelling, drivelled) [ no obj. ] 1 talk nonsense: he was driveling onabout the glory days.2 archaic let saliva or mucus flow from the mouth or nose; dribble.
Isn’t writing a blog already like gutting your soul to see what dribbles (drivels) out?
Oh the choices!
Cream of bull?
The truth is I must write. I’ve been doing it since the six grade. That dog eared red duo tang filled with middle school wisdom was both cape and shield.
I feel good when I write. I feel like I’m doing what I was put on the earth to do. I actually feel sorry for everyone who doesn’t write. Don’t they (you) know what you’re missing?
So I write. Today a little drivel. Tomorrow a best seller.