One of my deep writerly fears has been realized.
Someone, mentioned during my period of blogging anonymity, has expressed dissatisfaction with his or her portrayal.
During those years, the blog was a protected outlet. When I joined Lithia Writers Collective I needed to link my name to my personal blog for administrative reasons. I thought I'd "scrubbed" any significant identifying references to others; apparently I did not.
I haven’t told many of the stories I hold inside for exactly this reason. I’m not skilled at “fictionalizing” things. Something to work on, I suppose. It’s times like these when I sorely miss a weekly, in-person, critique group.
I know the LWC women could kick my butt right over this hump.
Initial responsibility for the words I write lies with me. But only I know my intentions. Final responsibility lies with those who read. While I never bought into Reader Response Criticism, all readers shape their interpretations through their own experiences.
I hope readers now and in the future will understand that I mean no one harm.
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Friday, February 20, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Writing 1939/2009 -- Kerry
My grandfather bought a newspaper in Bemidgie, (pop. 800) Minnesota in 1939 and published it weekly with the help of my grandmother and one part-time assistant. He called in the debts for the back issues of deliveries. One farmer paid him with a pig. Another brought in pies. The depression was just ending, and they wanted him to keep the newspaper going.
My grandmother was the editor, reporter, obituary writer, columnist and advertising director. As an English major fresh from the University of Wisconsin, she relished the task.
To write the obituaries, she had to walk through the hardware store into the mortuary, where the body of the day was laid out only a few feet away from a display of garbage cans and hoses.
Her column themes revolved around the farming community and often resulted in inadvertent dilemmas.
"Fertile Woman Marries" (Fertile, Minnesota) was one of her headlines that sent my grandfather into orbit.
She would have been 100 years this year. I ponder the changes the in the writing world she never saw, like automatic typewriters, the web, blogging. Her writing environment and mine may be radically different, but the basis remains the same, trying to write something, anything amidst trips to the hardware store and occasional blooper blog headlines.
My grandmother was the editor, reporter, obituary writer, columnist and advertising director. As an English major fresh from the University of Wisconsin, she relished the task.
To write the obituaries, she had to walk through the hardware store into the mortuary, where the body of the day was laid out only a few feet away from a display of garbage cans and hoses.
Her column themes revolved around the farming community and often resulted in inadvertent dilemmas.
"Fertile Woman Marries" (Fertile, Minnesota) was one of her headlines that sent my grandfather into orbit.
She would have been 100 years this year. I ponder the changes the in the writing world she never saw, like automatic typewriters, the web, blogging. Her writing environment and mine may be radically different, but the basis remains the same, trying to write something, anything amidst trips to the hardware store and occasional blooper blog headlines.
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