After one heck of a long hiatus, I’m back.
Seriously hadn’t planned on ignoring this space any more than I had intended not to write anything for NaNoWriMo back in 2014, either.
What’s worse: since last November, I’ve used those silly, time-sucking and brain-draining Facebook games as a sorry excuse to help fill the void.
The scary thing is, there is this unhappy notion inside me that says I have nothing more to say.
And yet I still feel compelled to produce words.
A long time ago, when my father was still alive but in early retirement due to health issues, he went from being overly active both during and after work — coaching little league, bowling, hunting, fishing — to laying on the sofa watching TV.
Day in and day out, it was all he ever did.
Then one day on the 6 o’clock news, he saw a story about a Traditional Catholic church not far from our city. He became a new man with a new mission, got up off the sofa, showered and shaved, went out and bought a suit and attended the first Mass that Sunday.
He got involved, became a shuttle driver for the priests that flew in from Ridgefield, CT, and spent a majority of his time running between the local parish and another a bit farther up north, out in the country.
One ax this new religion of his always ground into his head was that TV was the devil and needed to be removed from the home.
Despite my father’s new-found reason to exist, TV was not something he could easily part with, and so he reminded these priests that if it hadn’t been for television, he’d never have learned about the church, the movement, or them.
The same might be said for me and my writing — via Facebook.
While on this unwanted and boring hiatus from writing anything at all, including my second manuscript, and while spending far, too much time on my two Facebook pages (one for writing, the other for friends/family/games) I reconnected with old friends, kept in closer contact with relatives, and even sold a few more novels as a result of my fun with a Nightly Male post.
Heck, I’ve even been receiving nightly PM’s from an old school chum who loves to flirt about as much as I do. Seriously fun stuff, and he’s not half bad-looking, either.
Then late last week, a friend was posting YouTube videos of the music he intends to cover on his latest album, and I joined in by posting videos of what I referred to as one-hit wonders, but by extremely popular artists whose music far exceeds just one hit.
It just means they are the only songs that I like by these extremely popular artists.
Things like Elvis Presley’s Kentucky Rain, The Beatles Don’t Let Me Down, The Rolling Stones’ Heaven, and Glen Campbell’s Wichita Linesman.
While doing this, I noticed on the right side of my YouTube account, Shania Twain – Forever And For Always (Red Version).
The last time I heard that song was when it was new and we were all vacationing in the Upper Peninsula; sitting at the shore of an inland lake and around a summer nights’ campfire drinking Michelob Light while gazing at a full, unimpeded view of the Milky Way.
I set that video on repeat and sang along for a few . . . hours. The lyrics had remained dormant in my mind and came back with little effort.
And, that was all it took, too, to get me back in the writing mood.
Weird, isn’t it?
A bit like my late, old man arguing with a priest about the minuscule virtues of keeping a TV in the house since he believed it was what saved him. 😉