I had a lot of fun re-typing that old essay into my last blog post. It was like a visit with a friend you haven’t seen for a very long time.
I can remember working on that piece for days before I shipped it off to the contest. I put a shine on that baby like she was going to a high school reunion. I pulled out all the stops — like the black high heels from the back of the closet (the ones that hurt to walk in); and the slims-all from the lingerie drawer (the contraption built to suck you in and push you up). I tweezed and teased until there wasn’t an extra or misplaced word. It was my best effort and I’m proud of it even today (poor punctuation and all).
I don’t always dress my essays with the same amount of care and attention. Most of my writing is pretty informal (much like the writer). It’s comfy – it’s loose, like a day spent in sneakers and jeans. I do a lot of the thinking part of writing while walking the dogs. I get great ideas while tossing a frisbee – sometimes I’m lucky and remember them when I get home.
Writing essays is sort of like a can of mixed nuts — some of the essays are cashews while others are peanuts. The peanuts show up quickly and almost write themselves. I get excited and post them almost immediately (this sometimes leads to poster’s remorse). Peanuts are plentiful. Cashews are where it’s really at.
A cashew usually hurts to write – it’s a little deeper and a little richer than a peanut. You get an inkling your working with a cashew when something on the page makes the hair on your arms stand up. You know this essay is going to mean something. Cashews are a gift and a curse – they aren’t easy but they are oh so worth the effort.
I hadn’t learned about the cashews and peanuts back when I wrote that old essay – I was just a nut on a mission. Hooked on writing I tried to do it every day – there were a lot of peanuts back then too but I was having fun. Once that cashew won the contest some of the fun started to disappear – I started to dig through the can searching only for cashews. I left the peanuts to grow stale.
Writing, to me, is an honest thing – it’s me digging for my own truth. It has taken a number of years for me to feel confident enough to write the peanuts again, let alone share them with the world. This blog is affording me an opportunity to dip my hand into the can again — some days I grab a peanut, some days I don’t – and you guys get to taste them all. Thanks for reading!