The Good, The Bad, and the Darn Right Silly

The sun is shining through the bedroom window, causing shadows to dance on my computer screen. Spring has definitely found it's way. There was a mist over this sleepy town earlier, but now it has lifted to reveal the delights of a beautiful morning. Daffodils sway gently in the breeze, and the starlings nesting in our eves are singing in full tune. Bang, I wish I had a gun, or at least filled in the hole in the roof left by these birds last year. Life is so much fun huh. Life is what you make of it.

This lead me to thinking about the hubs I have written. So ready to be impressed, I decided to read them all again. Impressed, depressed! Oh my goodness, dribble, waffle and silly are words that come to mind. Still every which way is a learning curve, so they tell me. They, the tutors of my Creative Writing Course. "Write, write and write again" Sara tells me. "Put everything down on paper as soon as it enters your head". ".Don't miss a word, it could make you famous."

Fame and fortune are something I know little about. Having spent most of my days, and nights, scrubbing in the dirt to find a penny or two, violins at the ready please, I am quite settled into this routine they call life.

Writing is my passion, as many woman knit to while the time away, I write. At the moment trying my hand at poetry, my poems resemble knitting in various stages. Recently my writing has no sleeves, and on several occasions I have only just cast on. So how will I attempt to complete my garments.

Should I stop attempting poetry? No, I think not. Oh please do I hear you all shout. No, I shall stick in there. This poetry will not make me run looking for cover.

Now, the hub pages editor has been very helpful. He has suggested that I research and write nuggets of wisdom and informative hubs. I decided to try this and put my mind to the study of 'Poverty in Elizabethan England.' Can I truly say that I enjoyed this? Well, not really, as it would appear that my forte is in dribbling straight from the cuff. But, this is never going to make me famous, rich or even a good Hub Pages writer. So I must continue to wear my serious head, and sit a little longer with google research and try to come up trumps with a subject to attract the readers.

This is where the problem really starts. There are so many topics. I hate politics, it depresses me. I can't understand mathematical equations, they go straight over my head. Now, don't get me wrong, I am by no means dumb, thick or unintelligent. I love alternative therapies, but writing two articles of this nature as shown that my readers are not so keen. I love animals, which has made me many friends on Hub Pages, and I can write full blown tear jerkers from life's experiences, but I really want to change the subject. What a quandary to be in.

Believe it or not, I didn't intend this subject matter to be discussed today, but am just following the fingers on the keyboard. As usual dribbling, one of the things I do best, but not at the table, I am actually very professional at feeding my face.

The poor toy boy taxi driver is very long suffering, because he wanted to live with an intelligent happy woman, comfortable in her own skin and not the one who in fact lives her life dribbling. He has been very understanding of my problem, but I think he now feels that he is living with his granny!

Dribbling has earned me a few pennies, not a fortune, but I will survive. But, this does not help my predicament in becoming a writer who is taken seriously. I have not attempted non-fiction as yet, so maybe that could be a challenge? I think a book of poetry definitely should sit on the back burner (or for Mrs J.B, the long finger, a quaint Irish term) for a century or so. Or maybe I am wrong and my poetry could become like Picasso's paintings. Oh dear, I really don't know.

Do I turn left and continue to dribble, or do I turn right and follow the Hub Pages editors advice and write informative articles? We have already established that dribbling throws me a crust or two, and that research hasn't earned me even glory. So do you see my problem.?

So I turn to you, my Hub Pages readers, and if you have successfully stayed with me until this point, please share your wisdom. What shall I write about, how can I wow you from your seats to give me a standing ovation. Or if you feel better, I will bear the sting from your slap in a hope to be your heroine one day.