You Wanna Write; Right?

I just read a well thought out article complaining about negativity online. In the first line of the article, the author used the phrase “more wiser”, and I was stopped dead in my tracks. Wiser…more wise…I can deal easily with those, but more wiser? Is that a version of most wise? It does assume the author is wise to begin with; right?

I considered mentioning the error in the comments below the article, but one of the author’s complaints was about people who criticize. Catch 22. Go my own way. Shake my head. Chuckle. Write an article of my own.

I am not wise. If I were wise, I wouldn’t be a writer. I would sit quietly, smile a lot, and nod my head, whether in agreement or because I kept drifting off to sleep.  Not being wise I speak up often, leading with my chin, saying, “Now! Wait a minute! I don’t think that is right!” You do know what happens to people like me; don’t you? We are applauded by some as their champion. That means they agree with what we are saying, but have no intention of doing as we do. They will sit back and applaud until we are run out of town on a rail. Then they will get on with their lives.  The other camp, of course, is composed of those who will be doing the job of bringing the rail to ship us out.

To further prove my unwisedness (I love made up words; don’t you?) when I am not speaking up about what I think is wrong, I am making strong statements about what I think is right. Thus far no tomatoes have been thrown, to my knowledge, but then again, I am  usually “speaking” online through the written word. I suppose there are monitors somewhere that might have had coffee spit at them. While I do tend to speak most often about what I think might be right, that probably makes me wrong one half the time. It generates more writing by others, though, as they disagree with me.

I think I am a reporter. I live life. I observe. I take notes. I share what I write with others. That’s a reporter; right? I’ve been called a philosopher, but philosophers are usually wise, and I am not wise. I am a blundering nit wit. I’ve managed to survive my blunders thus far, and in reporting them have entertained some others. I’m not even a very good reporter. I’m not nosy enough. I respect other people’s privacy. I tend to report only my own antics. Then I scratch my head and wonder if that means I am self centered.

There are those who say I am a humorist, but some of those people laugh if they see an old woman trip and fall down a flight of stairs.  I’ve run writers’ workshops and could call myself a teacher, but I don’t know how good I am at that. My students published their work, but I never did. I taught swimming once and all of the children I taught passed their test at the YMCA day camp where I instructed. Me? I tend to freeze and go “Blub! Blub!” once I know the water is over my head. (Shh! Don’t tell!) Is it still called teaching if I pass along information without applying it, or does that simply make me a convincing gossip?

I am a writer. I sit. I think. I place my hands on the keyboard and watch my thoughts appear on the screen before me. I care about the order of the words. I check their spelling, their meaning, and whether they are grammatically correct. Then I click SEND, after which I spot the typos and sentences that look as if I switched thoughts half way through. I don’t get more wiser. I was never wise to begin with!