January 2012 —
I want to apologize to my few subscribers and anyone else who stumbles across this blog. My writing has been sporadic. The “theme” of the blog has ranged from free range expression to writing about writing to rants to writing about empathy to…who knows what else. I suppose the “theme” is really that there is no “theme”. Or at least not any more.
I don’t know how often I’ll write here or if I’ll write here at all. Maybe this will turn into an exercise journal of sorts. Maybe it will continue to collect cobwebs. Maybe it will become the place I put my stray thoughts. Maybe coming here will be a collosal waste of your time. Only time will tell.
So, I’m sorry. Thank you if you’ve stuck around.
My name is Hilary Clark. Writer.
Initially, I started this blog as a site to capture my poetry and prose. That’s still a primary purpose, but then it evolved into a place to track the pursuit of my passion: writing, and the process of turning it into a career. To that end, the “focus” or “theme” of this blog was that I would write about writing. It’s practice. If I don’t write, then I can’t make a living at it. I’d like to think that writing for a living is actually an option.
The original plan (check out the archives) followed the following posting schedule:
Mondays will focus on things I’m learning — about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness — and how they tie to writing.
Wednesdays will focus on ideas that inspire me or make me think — and how they tie to writing.
Fridays will be a collection of the posts I read during the week on other blogs that touched me in some way — and what I liked about them.
But then life got busy and blogging got bumped to the back seat. Hell, make that the trunk. And then I realized, huh, maybe I’m not making time for blogging because I don’t always want to write about writing. Sometimes, in fact, a lot of the time, I’d rather write about whatever crosses my mind.
So that’s what this blog is going to be. At least for now.
A little about me
I discovered poetry in 4th grade, when our class was taught the various poetic forms: sonnet, haiku, couplets, and the like. For 15 years, I wrote poetry and short stories at every opportunity, loading my college class load with every possible writing class as elective. But then the real world entered. I graduated college. I entered the work force. I built a career in Contracts Management for multi-billion dollar airports projects. And the creative spark abandoned me. More accurately, I buried that spark deep beneath the drudgery of daily living. I let life happen TO me rather than making life happen.
In late summer of 2009, after 20 years of simmering, something fanned the creative spark with air and a flame began to flicker in a prominent place in my creative center. A poem spilled out. A month later, a second one appeared. As 2010 rolled into being, several more poems were given life. The spark doesn’t burn as brightly as in my youth, but the flame constantly gasps, “Write. Write something. Put thoughts on paper and beauty will grow.” So I listen.
Writing was a passion throughout my childhood and teen years, but I never saw it as a viable career option.
Maybe I’m wiser. Maybe I’m braver. Maybe I’m crazier. I’m certainly much older.
Today, passionately pursuing a writing career seems perfectly possible.