To speak or not to sleep

Hello again, cyber land. Oh how you toy with me…

I just replied to a reply to my post. Lol. My old English teacher would just love that sentence. But I couldn’t go to bed without posting just a few thoughts that comment stirred in my mind. Actually, it’s running a bit like a blender right about now.

Anyway, thus the title… To speak or not to sleep. 🙂 Because apparently I cannot do one without first doing the other.

I love getting advice from my friends, peers, experts, children, old folks, Senpais, and newbies alike. Advice is like free treasure, unless you’re paying for it. And who couldn’t do with a bit of treasure now and then?

Now, I said I like getting advice, that doesn’t mean I have to take it. I’m not a mindless sheep, going about following the flock. I’ve got a bit of sense, just a bit mind you. So I take all my newly found treasure I and sort through it. I keep the sparkly gems in my pocket, and then stuff what doesn’t particularly suit me back in the chest. Click…that’ll be for a rainy day. I mean, it was given in good faith and all, why toss it out with the rubbish? And who knows, perhaps one day I’ll be in a place where that particular bit of treasure was just what I was needing.

On with the show. I am always happy to throw my two cents in where needed. If you chose to take it, you’ll be two cents richer. If not, no harm no foul. Right?

I had a dear friend ask me one time about getting into writing and publishing. She started out telling me a bit about her idea, asked a couple questions, then blushed and said…”But I’m not trying to barge in on your thing. If you don’t wanna tell me, that’s fine. I would never try to steal your thunder.”

Okay, I’m certain I looked at her like she had just grown another head…right there in front of me. How can people see writing as something only one person can do, or one hundred for that matter? That’s the most foreign thing I have ever heard. In my thoughts, this realm would be exceedingly glorious if EVERYONE was a writer or poet or storyteller. I mean, seriously, have you ever walked into a book store and said, “Here now. That’s just too many books. We shouldn’t have so many choices.” Or went to a movie theatre and said, “What’s going on here? Why are you showing all these different movies? This is a travesty. I’ll not have it. You hear me? I’m bored with all these amazing options. Enough’s enough.” Or going into a boutique and marching up to the sales girl and saying, “Offering more than one style of black skirt is absurd. Take everything off the rack, save this one here. One designer is plenty. Enough is as good as a feast.” That’s just madness, brothers and sisters.

I like to read, a lot. I like Clive Barker and Anne Rice and Charlaine Harris and HP Lovecraft and so many others that it boggles the mind. Every single room in my home, even some hallways, have a bookshelf… or two or three. Now, I don’t read every author out there. Who does? Some things just aren’t my cup of tea. Just like some things don’t tickle your fancy. We are amazingly different. And. That. Is. AWESOME!!!

This world can never have too many writers. Don’t be stingy with your dreams. Share them, tell perfect strangers about them, shout them from the rooftops. We will never be a society who stands up and says, “Enough with all this entertainment! How dare you give me the freedom of so many choices!” And if that day ever comes, brothers and sisters, I’m hunting down The Doctor and hitching me a ride in a blue box. One way ticket off this rock, please. Or maybe, just maybe… I’ll run up to a statue, give it a good rap on the forehead, and yell, “I’ll close my eyes if you zap me to a different place in time. Come on, Assassin Angel, weep for me!”

If every living creature with opposable thumbs were a scribe or poet or writer… If every blade of grass was a quill, the stars were made of parchment, and the oceans flowed with ink… Still, we could never have too many books, too many new ideas, or too many stories.

Come get your read on…

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