To blog, or not to blog; that is the question.
Whether ‘tis nobler to make readers suffer
These posts and arouse outrageous mention
In the comments section and cause trouble,
Or opposing, end this scrawl today, to write
No more; and by to write to say I end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
My posts are heir to, ‘tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d …
As you can see, I write a lot like Shakespeare, especially the parts that are his very own words, which I will put back later. I promise. I took them off an obscure website, so I don’t think anyone will notice. And no, I’m not plagiarizing; I’m merely borrowing. I learned that from my students, who often borrow entire essays.
In case you haven’t noticed (because you can rarely make it through my posts, and believe me I empathize: it’s hard for me as well), I have a lot in common with Shakespeare.
• He was born brilliant, and I was also born.
• We both had early lives.
• He managed to write 30+ plays (comedies, tragedies, and romances) and about 154 sonnets; I manage to write a now weekly blog.
• He liked hoop earrings, and I do too.
• He was a bard; I have been barred (due to excessive punning).
• He was from Avon; I have used Avon. *
• He was buried after his death, something I am planning myself. Not the death, the sequence of events: death, then burial.
Eerie, isn’t it? If I didn’t know better (and I rarely do), we could be twins, separated merely by talent, gender, legacy, facial hair, and about 450 years.
*Hi Miss Avon Representative: If you would like to give me free beauty products because I inadvertently advertised for you on my blog by using your company’s name, please feel free. I believe your products will make me look young and beautiful again. I also believe in unicorns. Just ring the bell.
If you are one of those I-can’t-look-away-from-this-train-wreck kind of reader and happen to have arrived here at the second ending of this post, both relieved and horrified, go here to see a 1960s “Ding Dong, Avon calling” commercial.