Every time I come across a brilliant blogger's work, I just step back in envy and admire them from a safe distance. Of course, I do the obligatory liking and commenting and sharing but I wish I could have had their ease with prose. The way they turn words into flowers and shake the petals all over the reader so that you feel welcomed and warm and feel this soft glow inside that powers you through the day.
It annoys me no end when my mind conveniently blanks out a word I was just going to use to capture an expression just when I've reached its rightful place in a sentence. I hate it when I find that my mind has suddenly decided to act like English is a foreign language (when, unfortunately, it's the only tongue that comes naturally to me) and refuses to allow me to use verbs and adjectives as they should be used. It always amuses me that after having read a particular author's work I take on their persona and emulate their style in my next piece. A regular Pretender, I am. It's like how you really get into the mind of the main character of a TV series or a book so that even as soon as you've turned it off or put the book down, for the next couple of minutes, you're seeing your world through their eyes. After watching Orange is the New Black I was drawing parallels with her prison world and my world. Prison won, by the way.
So this week I have to try to push myself to write more. Particularly since my supply of American TV shows has dried up until I can get hold of a decent broadband connection. Prepare for more writing experiments to assault your senses.