“If you want your name to be remembered after your death either do something worth writing or write some thing worth reading”
― Abraham Lincoln

Various authoritative online sources attribute the above quote (with minor variations) to Lincoln, Benjamin Franklin, and Albert Einstein. I’ve chosen the Lincoln version largely because…

Lincoln/Internet meme

Silenced

I fell off a truck and fractured my right wrist in June. Holly Ann set the fracture on the spot, and the only additional treatment was six weeks in a splint. Unfortunately, the prolonged immobilization resulted in a lot of functional loss (difficulty moving my fingers) and inflammation from the fracture caused my heretofore mild carpal tunnel syndrome to become severe. As a result, for three months I was unable to type or write while I did physical therapy and waited for healing. Even now, my typing speed is much slower and my accuracy is crap. All of which has given me a lot of time to contemplate the role of writing in my life.

Writing life

I published my first story in fourth grade and got my picture in the Tustin News. It was a contest, and I received a $3 gift certificate to a local bookstore. Now, I had plans for the gift certificate, and my parents were happy to see my picture in the paper, but what I liked most about the experience was the writing. Not the fame (the Tustin News!). Not the riches (THREE dollars!).

If a blog is posted on the internet, and nobody is reading…

When I discuss making changes to my blogs, my youngest son (now legally an adult!) will often say something like “I doubt either of your readers would care.” Funny, and close to true. So when I got a spam email that asked, “Are you someone who dreams of having a prominent presence on the world’s most renowned online encyclopedia?” I immediately thought “No… Hell no!” I love being able to write without concern for who might be reading. I also enjoy writing for an audience, mind you, but often it’s fun to write without a care, or as if everyone I’m writing about is dead.

Once I’m gone, I don’t expect to care whether anyone remembers my name.

—2p