Or so I'm suddenly being lead to believe.
I had a crisis of...well, okay, not a crisis, but another round of self-doubt and self-questioning and over-analysing the other day, and have not so much hit a snag but brushed up against the dock hard enough to sort of rattle the tacklebox.
Not to confuse you with a dark-haired beauty, I feel I'm sort of a Scheherezade. I like telling stories. Granted I'm not telling them to keep an amourous fat sheik out of my tent, but you get the drift. I like telling stories, and I think that at times I do a pretty good job of it. The thing is this--I think I'm losing some of you because of my sheer volubility.
Either that or I don't use the word "tits" enough. *shrug*
My concern is that I am a documentary in a sound-bite world. And it's a mark of a writer to doubt his or herself, right? Well, I'm right in the groove then. I wake up in the mornings and my brain has been busily bubbling all night, and as I shower and shave it starts offering up ideas for The Morning Post, and I sort them and refine them and by the time I sit here they're about half-baked because I've got to choke them out and get going, so I'm never quite 100% pleased with the result, but that's my brand of creativitiy, I suppose. But my brand is also long, purple-proseish. I have to wonder how many of you have turned away after one look at a 14 paragraph long post that's so wordy it's dragging your server down at work when you'd rather be over at myboyfriendisatwat reading about life in Belgium in three paragraphs or less.
Aah, self doubt.
So anyway, of my nine or so regulars, honest, tell me do--long posts, or short?