I’ve read a few books that give advice on how to write. I had laughed at all of them before I started writing. I was certain that I didn’t need to read anything close to a “how to” book. Wrong. Once I started writing I found all of them useful. Even when I decided to ignore their advice completely.
I am not writing these posts in the second-person in an attempt to give you advice. I have written one book, ok maybe two, a big book, but only one. I started writing three years ago. I am a wide-eyed toddler in fiction. I cannot give you advice, no matter who you are.
And I am not writing in the second-person because I heard that this is considered somehow literary, “Oh now you have aspirations to write actual literature, Mr. C. who hadn’t even written anything until forty-five?” No, this is no attempt to appear post-modern. And you might have moved to Massachusetts but you’re no Nathaniel Hawthorne.
There is only one reason these posts are second-person. At some point, as I was typing, my fingers decided to switch to the second person. I never planned it in the left hemisphere even for a millisecond. Or so I think, accepting the futility of my brain trying to understand my brain. The purpose of the journal is to communicate my experience. If you find advice in it, handle it with care and mix it up in your own crazy cocktail of life.
Second-person just happened here. Sorry about that.
Come back for my next post: The first person voice.