A few months ago, I started this blog as a creative outlet…creative being a rather relative term. Once I got over the technological hurdles, I discovered blogging can be a fun way to get essays and stories out there that I might otherwise take to my grave. One of the things I really love is that it’s a fairly inexpensive hobby that doesn’t require many skills beyond balancing a laptop on my legs while lounging on the sofa. (Which I happen to be doing at this very moment.)
The only problem is, publishing new content on a regular basis can be stressful. Frankly, it shouldn’t be because I set my own schedule. But just like I did when I was working in the real world, I have a tendency to put things off until the last minute. Sure, I could always move those self-imposed deadlines, but my usually non-competitive nature turns ridiculously aggressive when I break my own rules. I try to avoid facing that side of myself as much as humanly possible.
While writing has always been something I enjoy, I never quite know where it’ll take me. Most of the time, I don’t even know where it’s going to start. I’m not one of those writers who manufactures a plot and then creates an outline before ever typing that first sentence. I have to pay attention to the chatter in the back of my brain and jump on it if it sounds the least bit story worthy. Of course, being the procrastinator that I am, I’ll often ignore the chatter and play computer games or watch TV instead. Because of that, it can be a real challenge to plant myself at the keyboard and string enough comprehensible words together to have something ready to publish every couple of weeks.
Fortunately for me, the story I’m posting this time is one I started a couple of years ago. Back then, I didn’t get beyond the first several paragraphs. I can’t recall if that was because other pressing matters kept me away from writing or if the chatter just suddenly stopped. But, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. The main character found her way back to my forebrain and finished telling me what she wanted me to know. And now I’m here to tell you what she told me.
All you have to do is click the button below to get a glimpse of what it was like Being Basil.
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