If my Words are Not Read, did I Write them At All?

Lucky for me I have you reading these words.

My title refers to the other stories we all write. Or think of writing.

Many people journal – in fact it is quite the thing in some circles. We used to call it a diary and I have many but I will admit to you here that they were written to be read. And one of the reasons I started the blog was so I could journal the journey of the farm and join with you all in chatting in the Lounge of Comments.

Anything I write for no-one to read is burned. Writing is not a therapy for me.

I was speaking with Jim in the comments yesterday – trying to answer his question as to why I was using the platform SubStack to publish my new stories. Or even needed somewhere to put them. It was such a good question because it made me think.

Here is my (amended) comment.

“I am at a point in my journey as a writer where I am ready to take myself seriously and lock down a style in my long-form writing. Writing that is not dependent on the farm or location. Or my ‘brand’ (The short stories).

Substack may give me the encouragement to write consistently – every day. As a training if you will.

I have so many short stories and early days stories written and tucked away that need working on.

What good are these unread words. 

See how I wrote this comment? All in short choppy form. A prime example of why I want to enable/retrain myself to get back to that long gorgeous sumptuous lilting writing again – where did I lose that habit – Social Media? — I think Substack may be a good place for me to recover my real writing. What do you think?

I think setting a Monday deadline and maybe developing a small cadre of paying (and of course free subscribers) might enable me dig deep into long form writing. Explore words again. Hold me accountable.

I will be launching there (SubSTack) with only words – no personal pictures. I am taking my crutch out from under myself. (There will be wobbles).

Can I get up every morning and continue using the same style and voice? Or am I too fractured.

I will develop a platform that is not dependent on the farm for subject matter. Or travel or sustainability. (I am trying to find again that girl who wanted to be a writer – a writer of short stories who ironically loves to read long novels). The writing will be from my own head and the challenge of holding a reader purely with words and how I arrange them is a heady one.

Plus there is the paid subscription option. The kitchens garden blog has always been free. And will remain so. Same with the Sustainable Home Monthly Newsletter. (But I do need to make some money to feed all these animals), (and for me so I can have time to write).

Not wanting to become this fellow living on red wine and crackers in a back room garret. Thank you Misky!

Which led me to look for a platform where readers are set up to pay someone to write. I think four stories might be worth 5 dollars a month.

Do you think?”

I wrote an haiku last night:

If I write to you
And you do not read my words
Do I write at all

I am not a poet but this is a real thought trying to battle its way out. And one way or another I do want my words to be read.

Anyway. Time for action! I end up doubting myself for doubting myself. I am old enough to know better!

Wai wants feeding or else he going to run amok in the feed shed.

Just the thought of this old blind pig running amok makes me laugh – not at you WaiWai definitely with you!! More laughter! WaiWai never laughs – he takes pig life ‘very seriously’!

I can almost hear the chug of the milking machine in this abandoned milking parlour.

This is the last hen to be caught. And she had a terrible time before I was able to trap her. Being out with all those roosters resulted in really nasty wounds on her shoulders.

While mounting a hen the rooster stands on top of her and holds on with his claws. This girl has had the skin ripped open on her back. Repeatedly by the looks of it.

Chickens can be mean to each other too (especially if weakened) so she will stay in her little cage until her wounds are dried up – this will give her a chance to acclimate, too. Maybe the others will just ignore her when I let her out tonight.

She really is a pretty young hen. Pretty angry at the moment!

We did get a tiny dusting of snow overnight and have one more night of cold before it warms up again.

I may have made a mistake leaving my pots of big potted plants out. But sage and rosemary can take a bit of cold. Fingers crossed.

Weather

The warm snap is over. Cold snap coming up. Then warm snap then cold snap again.

I just hope that these cold days don’t stop the promise of apples in the trees. They are all blossom. .

It’s cold. The house is cold. It’s cold outside. Cold inside. I am not turning heating on for this short shift of weather. Though I see in the forecast that this will repeat itself next weekend. Taking us right to the last frost date for this area. April 16 – 30.

There are some farmers out planting but our farmers don’t begin planting the organic corn until after the 10th of May. By then the ground should be nicely warmed up. Plus we don’t want organic corn tassling at the same time as the GM crops.

Found this (below) in a facebook memory the other day. Seven years ago!! Oh My.

Our Sheila. Well, the caption says Sheila but I think this may be Poppy. Sheilas scar was on her left I think but still. Poppy’s ears flopped forward like that.

Have a lovely day

Celi

PS My next story goes up on SubStack this afternoon. And every Monday going forward. I hope you can subscribe from this link – otherwise I will leave the link at the bottom of tomorrows post. Love to see you over there, if you can. Hugs.