On Writing

My Personal Critic

I have a story to share.

Majority of my writing is done in the company of Sir Oscar, my beloved eclectus parrot. Now, he is a smart cookie. I mean really smart. We will have two-way conversations. He has even trained me to kiss on command. No, seriously. I thought I was training him, but now he’ll sit there saying “Kiss? Kiss?” over and over until I say “mwaaaaah!” He’s kind though, he tells me what a good boy I am afterward (I’m trying to teach him that I am, in fact, a girl).

Anyway, story time. Today I was trying something new; I was writing poetry, something I’ve never really done before. As usual, I read my writing aloud to my critic, Oscar. This was out conversation:
“What did you think of my poem Oscar?”
“It’s okay …”
“Oh. Well, thanks for your opinion.”
“Can I have a kiss?”
“Sure, mwaaah!”
“Good boy!”

Yes. This is a true story.
No. It is not embellished in any way.
Yes. I am very lucky to have such a good friend.

So, I must now go and have another crack at writing poetry. Hopefully I can gain Oscar’s approval …

“Do you think they’ve noticed I’m wearing a toupee?”

Happy writing!


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