Jeeves unachieved

The other day a woman called on the phone, whom I've known for decades, had once briefly had strong unrequited feelings for - and hadn't had contact with for roughly a year. And I found I had nothing to say. I mumbled some formal replies, and yessed and noed a bit to keep up appearances. But I would have rather just "consumed" her voice and otherwise kept quiet.

Today I read the new blog entry of a translator who writes s.f. and other books, occasionally, next to the main translating job. He was commenting on the current "scandal" of a young woman author, who had been elevated by the lit crowd in the media as being Germany's "voice of the zero years" - i.e. the past decade - after landing a hit debut novel called Axolotl Roadkill, but who has now been discovered to have quoted verbatim extensively from other sources, including blogs. I felt he, the translator, had something to say. More than me.

I have several friends who post brief texts extensively via the Web - twittering, "booking", blogging away, often several times a day. I have one friend who produces a remarkable minimalist audiovisual blog, with stripped-down wording - all of course written fashionably in lower case.

Do they all have more to say than me?

I think so. Who's to say what's worthy of being posted, or, even better, consumed by the reading eye? I'm not s.f. legend Vonnegut, who once wrote a brief style guide (i.a. "edit out all words you don't really need!") on writing, as a 2-page ad in a comic book. I'm remarkably aware of, and generally at ease with, my literary insignificance.

This is the blog that doesn't say much, and boasts a high degree of infrequency. (You may have noticed? )

This is me, not saying much, via the keyboard. Phone me for some real-life long silences in the near future!

Here's to hearing from you.