Defining Writing

I've touched on this idea multiple times over the years with different friends and writing groups.  What makes a writer?  and more importantly Why do you write?  I've recently had a discussion about the later question in my two current writing groups so I'll start with the first quest.  What makes a writer?  And bear in mind, these are my own opinions, not the be all end all of what a writer is.

I'm not a writer. Ernest Hemingway was a writer. I just have a vivid imagination and type 90 WPM. ~Tiffany Madison

That's sometimes how I feel.  I have never classified myself as a writer.  My friends have, my family has, random people who read random blog posts have.  I never have.  It's not a craft I'm dedicated to nor put time and effort into.  Writers are drawn to writing like a moth to a flame.  They have a need to put words out there.  They write for no audience and every audience.  They do it for a myriad of reasons but that is for another day about why.  I, on the other hand, have a totally different experience, if I compare notes with my writer friends.  

Yes, Earnest Hemingway was a writer. And Jane Austen.  And Edgar Allan Poe.  And William Shakespeare.  And Mark Twain.  And Stephen King.  And Dr. Seuss.  And... You get the point.  But.  There is always a but, or however, or despite.  Some catch that breaks the rules.  And I'm gonna name names here so be prepared.  A Simply Enchanted Life.  Niki Flow.  Amara Graves.  Nathan Everett.  Writer Girl J.  Bah.  They are writers too.  Some are actual honest to goodness published writers, some are writers working toward publishing, some just have a story to tell with no desire to publish, some are bloggers, some are posters, all are writers.  It's not why you write that makes you a writer.  It's not how you write that makes you a writer.  It's that you write that makes you a writer.  

So, even though I average maybe 6 blog posts a  year, even though I only really put out words of quantity in November, even though I never feel this need to write.  I write.  Therefore, by aforementioned logic, I am a writer.  I write when a thought process feels like it is more important than just me.  I write when the people in my head insist they have something to say.  I write when I'm inspired.  I write when I'm motivated.  Whether that be twice a year or twice a day, it still makes me a writer.  And you know, it's a pretty special group of people to be associated with. 

Laundry Whispers

What an odd title for a blog.  I know that's what you are thinking.  A blog about laundry?!?  How much can you really say about laundry right?  Wrong, on both counts.  This is not a blog about laundry first and foremost.  Though I could hit up Pinterest right now and have enough tips and hints to carry a post a week for a good long while.  And really, depending on the angle you take a lot can be said about laundry.  Once upon a time I did it.  I wrote prolifically about laundry.  Lazy, good for nothing, procreating laundry.  On a forum site with many of my now dear friends as my trapped readers and co-miserators.  That is what started me down the road to blogging.  And gave me the nickname The Laundry Whisperer.  I even created a festival centered around laundry back in the day.

Those posts in that forum is what started me back to the notion of putting words out there.  Not that I was a writer.  Not that I aspired to be a writer.  But just gave me the prod I needed to re-examine my relationship with the written word.  I've toyed with words since I was a child.  I started my reading career at the ripe old age of 4.  And still enjoy reading to this day.  I don't know when I first figured out I could tell a story by putting crayon to paper.  I just know I did it.  And then I did it off and on until sometime out of college.  Then I stopped.  The people stopped visiting my head, or more likely I stopped listening to them.  Then I started back.  It was random.  Sharing my weird, sometimes off the wall random, thoughts.  My Blonde Life in a Brunette World.  Life is Like a Roll of Toilet Paper.  I told you it was off the wall and completely random.  And of course, tales of laundry.  Laundry that was unwilling to wash, dry, fold and put itself away.  Laundry that multiplied itself while I was at work.  The dogs, the cows. Driving 20 miles to work.  All things I 'wrote' about.

I can't get those days back.  I can't get those thought processes back.  My writing style has changed since those days.  And while I miss that time I don't want to go back to that time.  I would however, love to have that same camaraderie back.  And that same ability to have deep weird random thoughts.  And the ability to translate those thoughts into words. 

Laundry Whispers is my personal foray back into the idea of writing.  A place to share some writing bits and bobbles.  A place to share some thought process (that I don't share on my other mainstream blog).  Possibly even some guest bloggers now and again.  A place to explore the writer I was, the writer I am, and the writer I may someday become.

Welcome to the Whispers~