Struggling

If you read my blog on a regular basis, you probably read my post, “Dear Anonymous.”  If not, go read it.  Or don’t.  Whatever.  Anyhow, one of the things Anonymous brought up is that I should be writing about important things because of how I write.  From what I gathered, they were saying that I have a style that makes people want to read what I write so I have some level of power (from what I gathered). 

Here’s the problem – I can never think of anything important to write about that isn’t completely personal.  Personally, I think that I have experienced quite a bit for someone my age – I’ve done quite a bit of stuff and been through some weird things.  I run an office and have quite a bit of “business” experience.  I’m basically raising a few children.  People come to me for advice on many different things.  So the only way for me to express important, deep thoughts is through personal experience. 

I don’t read, so I can’t write intelligently about topics such as who to vote for or why I’m not voting.  I can’t write about fixing cars because everything would be called dumb things like, “that thingy that looks a little bit like a whatchamacallit.”  I have never liked writing expository pieces.  I hate having to analyze things.  The list goes on and on about why writing about things that really mean something is a bad idea.  The only piece I’ve ever written that wasn’t non-fiction was about how to direct a play.  Like that’s something you can really cover in six pages.  But, seriously, that’s the only instructional piece I’ve written.

So my point is simple, I’ve been struggling with accepting that the only way for me to communicate (through writing, especially) is through talking about my experiences.  Maybe this is something I’ll grow out of… if I ever grow up at all. 

Now that I’ve gotten this thought process out, I think maybe I’ll write more.  Because I think I have to come to grips with the fact that my style choice for writing is non-fiction which means personal and means that I’ll have to speak through experience and not worry about the fact that maybe I could choose a different style.  It could change one day.  But I’ve been so slow at getting even close to semi-decent at non-fiction that I’ll probably be 90 and have to have a typist because arthritis with have hit me so hard that I can barely move my hands, much less type.