The biggest problem with blogging is that when things get really interesting I'm too exhausted to write about it. - Neil Gaiman
Yes, I agree.
Last night, I got my hair chopped. I got rid of about 4 inches. I love getting it cut. It's a scalp massage and nap coupled with looking good. How can you not love that? Then after, with my vey 60's do, I made my husband take a picture of me wearing my mothers prom dress. I'm going to show it to her and ask her if that's what she looked like.
My husband and I were listening to the radio over the weekend and a commercial for Troy came on. I went into fits because they were talking about how Brad Pitt was starring as Achilles. Give me a break, the story's not really about Achilles. Anyway, my husband couldn't remember the story, so I retold it for him in short form. Like anything could be longer than the Iliad.
But while I was explaining the story and making all the connections and telling him about the history and the oral tradition and such it occurred to me that I love to do that. I love to take a story I know and appreciate and turn it into something other people can understand and enjoy.
Unfortunately, I can't think of a way to make my love of storytelling into a paying job. I'm trying desperately to write a book, but it's so much harder. I'm writing on a page, for one thing. There's no instant knowledge that I've connected with someone and they're actually appreciating what I'm giving them. And there's certainly no feedback that I've lost them in the telling. I just want to be a bard. Is that so wrong?