It is no secret that I love books and I love to write. I own bookcases filled with hardbacks, paperbacks, and even a few magazines containing articles worth rereading or storing for research purposes. My library shelves have been expanding for decades with books that I have purchased, found, or received as gifts. People may wonder why I keep collecting books, when I rarely have time to read them. My hope is that one day I will proudly tell myself that I have read and learned something from every book I own, and I have owned a thousand or more in my lifetime. Over the years, due to lack of space, I have given away a few hundred books. An action that is more painful than you might imagine. In the meantime I keep buying them, only not as frequently as I used to.
One thing that I enjoy more than reading is writing. I write at every opportunity. Any time and any place. When an idea comes to mind I scribble it on whatever is handy. If I am not tapping out fantasized best sellers on my desktop keyboard, I write in long-hand on lined pads. When I have a light bulb flash inspiration while I am reading, I record notes in the margin of my book. It doesn’t matter where I am — the doctor’s office, the bus terminal, the grocery store, where ever — if I get a blazing idea, I write it down. When I happen to be someplace where there is no paper available, I jot down key thoughts on my hand, and transfer them at the earliest opportunity to a more permanent place. Writing on the hand is a convenient last – and sometimes desperate — result in these times of laptops and tablet computers. Just ask Sarah Palin about hand notes. (Okay, I said that facetiously. But that’s a subject for another day.) As any dedicated writer will tell you, it is essential to seize the moment and record an inspirational thought before it slips away.
When Potpourri101 was born, I told you that as she grows, I will be writing about anything and everything. Opinionated rants concerning news events and public figures. Or private reflections like this one.