I know I am not a perfect writer. I do not even consider myself a “good writer” or one that writes well. What I do know is good writing... (see what I did there). I know it when I see it. I make no qualms that I make mistakes and I forget things about writing. Here’s what drives me absolutely bananas: Someone who possesses absolute grandiose notions about their own hellacious writing. I will call them: Writer-Grandiopolis Ridiculouso. It's Latin. Look it up.
Why I am stepping on my soapbox about this subject? I’ve experienced this anomaly twice this week. TWICE!!!! By weeks end, I may experience it THRICE!
I’ve met and befriended several brilliant wordsmiths. I marvel at their ability to construct beauty out of lumps of jumbled letters, thoughts and experiences. They never brag about their existence. Okay, maybe humble brag about it but they deserve to.
The individuals who fall under my Writer-Grandiopolis Ridiculouso category do not deserve to brag yet they do. It really hurts me. I think why it bothers me so much is that I do not write for a living anymore. I barely edit. I do edit...for example, I continually have to someone that you need to pluralize certain verbs when you have a an actuaI subject of a sentence. Bygones....
I am not as crisp and clean as I once was. I wasn't even that crisp and clean. Can't ya tell?
I could be jealous. They have so much confidence behind their subpar writing and I have barely any in my almost par writing.
Will I ever get back to the level of par-ness I once possessed? I hope so. I can't take much more of this.
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