Oh, what to write about?

Y'know, my 11th-grade writing teacher, Brenda Ball, loved the way I wrote. She especially liked my free verse. She thought something was there.

People I worked with at the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette liked it, too, although sometimes my literary devices were a bit too obtuse for them, and they would routinely get cut. "This ain't art, and you ain't Hemingway."

I suppose it's a skill that one must consistently work on or else it goes fallow.

I always liked writing, but I hated it at the same time. Yeah, so what?

I anticipate my re-entry into the blog world will be a mix of posts like these of a purely personal nature, plus typical blog posts commenting on the passing scene. Some Twelve-Step work may be included.

I've gone through a rough period in my personal life where I just couldn't muster up the energy to be outraged about much. I went through a period where I wasn't watching the news, reading my otherwise favourite opinion sites (i.e. National Review Online, Townhall, little green footballs, or even my perverse pornographic pleasure).

But now I'm getting better. I think trying to blog more will improve my outlook. And now that football season is over, I need something to do to keep me occupied.