Classical Convert

Back again, again.

Well hi there.

My, how you’ve grown! It’s been such a long time since we last met, every day felt like an eternity, etc, &c, and so on. I have a pile of ideas that wanted to get conveyed, and will be, perhaps: CDs that rejected doubts about composers; meme taggings; long and wistful monologues about the symbolic use of Beethoven’s ninth in Die Hard. It’s all stacked up in the mental out-box, or to-do-box, or some other hyphenated box.

When I don’t write for a while I sort of forget how to do it. Not the actual tap-tapping of keys, but the linking of thoughts to characters. The turning of ideas into words. It feels a bit like building a flight of stairs, one at a time — balancing precariously on the last as you clumsily hammer bent nails into the next plank. I was going to continue that simile, but un-ironically spent several minutes typing and erasing and retyping a series of failed continuations.

That’s why I’m not really writing about much of substance in this post. It’s just exercise typing, a warm up. Getting the joints flexible for next time.

After all, writing-related injuries can be nasty.