My words

So much has happened in the last few months and blogging had to take a backseat.  I'll be honest, I've been in a love-hate relationship with blogging lately.  I often thought of just deleting it all and pretending it never happened.  I didn't want to admit defeat and most definitely felt as if I had been beaten.  I couldn't manage writing a single post for months and months.  As a matter of fact, I couldn't even think about the effort it would take or so much as a single topic that I wanted to write about badly enough.

But then I woke up this morning and decided not to get out of bed just yet.  My head was throbbing and having had very little sleep in the last week, my comfy king sized bed seemed to be the best place for me.  The kids are awake and running around the house (and watching Frozen for the millionth time) which meant for me that sleep is not an option.  Sleep will have to wait.  However, I can just lie here with the curtains drawn, and listen to "Let it Go" one more time.  But as not even Elsa can keep my attention for long and lets be clear on one thing: I can out-watch any little girl where Frozen is concerned.  So I turned to browsing news websites and give Facebook my due diligence and came upon this article: Harold Bloom: Preposterous 'Isms' Are Destroying Literature.

It is the first article in possibly weeks I have read from beginning to end.  I found it interesting even thought my knowledge of literature is minuscule to say the very least, it stirred a certain part of my brain and dare I say, my soul.  The part that loves words.  Beautiful words.  The part of me who loved 'God of Small Things' by Arundhati Roy not for the story or the social criticism, but for the beautiful words.  The words that moves your soul and makes you read a line over and over again.  Words that will stay with you for a lifetime.  They carve out a special place in your heart and sit there, waiting to be remembered, reread, quoted and most of all... waiting to change you.

Now here I am, back behind the keyboard.  Ready to face my own words again and share my life, my world and my thoughts with those of you who want to read about it.  I'm not a great writer, I didn't make literature my profession even though I did teach English for a few years.  But middle school English and my terrible English as a second language isn't the stuff legends are made of.  I can't remember basic grammar rules and spelling will kill me one day.  But I love words.  And I am willing to share the words I have with you, for the good or the bad.