Writing on the Internet is a Lot Like Being in Third Grade Again.

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Remember being young enough to put your hand up when you knew an answer? Teacher stood there asking questions and I suppose it went pretty much the same in every classroom.

Class, can anyone tell me which dinosaur had the lowest brain to body mass?

OMG, I know this one! Shoot my hand up, waggling fingers — pick me, pick me — but she’s looking around like I’m invisible. Come on. Reaching even higher because, come on, I know this one.

Johnny?” she asks.

Sigh. He mumbles. I dunno. T-Rex? And then Micheal does that T-Rex thing with his hands curled up at his chest and everyone starts laughing.

She goes behind her desk and picks up a nut. Holding it up, she tells the class the Stegosaurus had a brain about the size of a Brazil Nut. I’m still kind of mad because why don’t they ever ask you when you actually know something?

Next day.

Class, can anyone tell me who invented the gyroscope?

What? Are you kidding me? Sliding down in my seat. In hindsight, I probably should have shot my hand up and bounced my butt around the chair trying to get her to see me, because that’s the best way to get ignored. But no.

“Linda?” she asks.

Sigh. No idea. T-Rex? Hahahahhaha.

Seems to me writing on the Internet is a lot like being in 3rd grade all over again.

Some days, you slave over a piece. 3 hours, maybe 5 hours. I read someone say it takes the better part of a whole day to do one story. I’ve done that, too. The slog ones. Finally, eventually, you hit publish. And….


Hot damn. It’s kind of disappointing.

But then there’s the other days. Where you just jam the keys like a monkey on a typewriter. Hit publish and walk away. Whatever. Done. And….


The hearts are racking up like there’s nothing else to click here and Medium is sending emails to update the fan count and the amount of money you earned makes you wonder if you should laugh or cry because hot damn.

It’s like rolling the damn dice. Because, wtf? You just never know.

Why do we do it? You ever wonder that?

Writers write because we have to. I wouldn’t exactly say I get pleasure from it, but I’ve noticed if I go too long without writing, I get cranky and out of sorts. It’s like I need to purge damn words from my head to stay sane.

Best I can figure, writing is a lot like life. You just keep showing up and sometimes you earn something, sometimes you learn something and if you’re really lucky, maybe some days you do both.