Valedictions
Apr. 25th, 2013 05:09 pmWelcome back, old friend, one more time.
This is the last entry of the season, and for me, likely the last post for a while.
It's an odd feeling, you know? An ending that's not really an ending, just a pause until the next season.
Because of the meta-nature of the topic, this week feels more like the actual physical act of walking on stage and speaking to an audience than any other time; it's impossible, I think, to divorce yourself from the proceedings and still address the topic.
So instead of conjuring up a distant world once more, I hope you don't mind that it's just me talking to you, face to face. Metaphorically, of course.
There are three things I want to say, before the curtain closes.
First and most importantly, I want to thank you.
From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you for reading. For following idol through this mini-season (and possibly through past seasons).
Every comment, every criticism, every pageview means so much; it's encouragement and it's advice and it's warm fuzzy feelings and, really, most of all, it's someone who is coming back, week after week, to spend time on what we do.
It's someone that we have a responsibility to not let down.
So thank you for that, for giving us your time and your energy and your beautiful, meaningful words.
Secondly, I want to talk about writing and why we all do it, but, really, I've already done that. I would appreciate it if you took a bit of time to read that entry (the timing of it was incredibly coincidental), but the important thing is this:
Everyone has a different reason for writing. Everyone has a good reason for writing, and everyone deserves to be read. Whether it's historical slices of life or personal memoirs of a climb out of our darkest days or speculative and science fiction, we write to impact the world.
We change the world through our thoughts, our words, paragraph by paragraph, piece by piece. There is no 'better' genre, no 'most pure' way of writing that should win; we should not be judging fiction against nonfiction or poetry against prose, because while our tools are different our goals are the same, aren't they?
We're all here to write.
The third thing I want to talk about, the last thing, is about winning.
I didn't join LJ Idol to win. I joined it simply to write and be read, and in both of those goals, I've succeeded beyond my wildest hopes. Whether I finish first or fourth or fiftieth, every chance I get to see a topic and have someone read my thoughts is enough for me. Every piece is its own reward, regardless of placement.
In a perfect world, no one would ever get knocked out and we would just keep writing forever. I don't think that will ever happen, for plenty of obvious reasons.
So let me just say this, and then step back behind the curtain, go back to work and life and all those other responsibilities and quietly wait for the next season:
I'd like to see, maybe, once, what would happen if we all tied.
Just once.
This is the last entry of the season, and for me, likely the last post for a while.
It's an odd feeling, you know? An ending that's not really an ending, just a pause until the next season.
Because of the meta-nature of the topic, this week feels more like the actual physical act of walking on stage and speaking to an audience than any other time; it's impossible, I think, to divorce yourself from the proceedings and still address the topic.
So instead of conjuring up a distant world once more, I hope you don't mind that it's just me talking to you, face to face. Metaphorically, of course.
There are three things I want to say, before the curtain closes.
-
First and most importantly, I want to thank you.
From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you for reading. For following idol through this mini-season (and possibly through past seasons).
Every comment, every criticism, every pageview means so much; it's encouragement and it's advice and it's warm fuzzy feelings and, really, most of all, it's someone who is coming back, week after week, to spend time on what we do.
It's someone that we have a responsibility to not let down.
So thank you for that, for giving us your time and your energy and your beautiful, meaningful words.
-
Secondly, I want to talk about writing and why we all do it, but, really, I've already done that. I would appreciate it if you took a bit of time to read that entry (the timing of it was incredibly coincidental), but the important thing is this:
Everyone has a different reason for writing. Everyone has a good reason for writing, and everyone deserves to be read. Whether it's historical slices of life or personal memoirs of a climb out of our darkest days or speculative and science fiction, we write to impact the world.
We change the world through our thoughts, our words, paragraph by paragraph, piece by piece. There is no 'better' genre, no 'most pure' way of writing that should win; we should not be judging fiction against nonfiction or poetry against prose, because while our tools are different our goals are the same, aren't they?
We're all here to write.
-
The third thing I want to talk about, the last thing, is about winning.
I didn't join LJ Idol to win. I joined it simply to write and be read, and in both of those goals, I've succeeded beyond my wildest hopes. Whether I finish first or fourth or fiftieth, every chance I get to see a topic and have someone read my thoughts is enough for me. Every piece is its own reward, regardless of placement.
In a perfect world, no one would ever get knocked out and we would just keep writing forever. I don't think that will ever happen, for plenty of obvious reasons.
So let me just say this, and then step back behind the curtain, go back to work and life and all those other responsibilities and quietly wait for the next season:
I'd like to see, maybe, once, what would happen if we all tied.
Just once.