A Commitment to Write

I noticed him coming out of the library, not because he had a small child harnessed to his chest, but because of the awkward way he held his arms as he walked. He was not carrying any books, nor did he have a phone or keys in his hands. But he was not using his arms to shelter or cradle the child in any way, nor did he swing them back and forth in natural synchronization with his steps. There was nothing about his features or his clothing to draw my attention--tan hair, tan jacket, blue jeans and white sneakers. It was just those arms. And the fact that he seemed oblivious to both the baby he was carrying, and to the toddler taking gigantic steps beside him in an effort to keep up. Surely, although he appeared to be the right age, this man was not the children's father. No father could care so little for such tender young charges. Perhaps he was an uncle pressed into service under duress, or a friend who owed their mother a favor? Watching him, I couldn't help but wonder if he was able to move his arms, and if not, then what kind of a sicko had strapped a baby to his chest? Deciding that I really needed to get a life of my own, I started my car and drove home.

Hi--me again. It's Day Two of my commitment to blog every day for a month. I made the commitment impulsively (is there any other way?), not thinking of my other writing commitments, i.e., the on-line fiction writing course I am currently taking, for which the above is part of an assignment, and the writing group I became a part of earlier this year with a couple of friends from high school--one of whom I knew only by sight, but who's become a pretty good friend through facebook, and one who was my closest friend and confidant, but with whom I'd lost contact and have been blessed to find again through facebook. (Obviously, the writing class hasn't yet covered long, run-on sentences.)

Anyway, in our group, we have no rules, other than that we always go in order and take turns coming up with a prompt. The "chooser" can say whether it should be fact or fiction, but usually it's just "you decide." No time limit, and no restrictions about length. It's been great. When each of us has finished his "assignment," we submit them to each other via e-mail, and offer feedback. And now the three of us are all in the same on-line class, along with about two thousand other people.

So what's one more writing commitment among friends? I think you have to have at least four (commitments, not friends)before it becomes an obsession. I've been there. This does not feel like an obsession. No. This just feels like commitment. That's a good thing, right?