OK. This is a late night, dash-off post, which means that it will blend right in with all my earlier efforts. But I feel like I have stumbled across an almost undiscovered goldmine of prose, and I’m trying to cash in before someone else says: “I found her first!”
Her name is Buttered Toast.
I was tipped earlier today on Facebook, to a five-day old post of hers that had a half dozen comments. I read the post. Twice. I tried to distance myself from its political agenda, which I agreed with, knowing that it colored my assessment. It didn’t matter. Damn fine prose. Gritty, with vivid imagery.
Later in the workday, I treated myself to another look at the blog; at the next most recent post, but already ten days old. It was apolitical; about kids and nature and the importance of place. It was astounding in its imagery. I was the second comment. The second comment in ten days. Insane. I started considering that a technological glitch had frozen the posts, blocked the comments, whatever: because the writing is that damned good. It made no sense that it was still lying here unnoticed, like a wallet full of twenties on the sidewalk.
So, tonight I found time to visit her even earlier post from two and a half weeks ago. It is the best and most honest assessment of love in the context of divorce I have ever read. Until today, it had one comment. Un-freaking believable.
So, before I totter off to my bed, I’m trying to start the proverbial snowball rolling down the hill, helping it to pick up mass (translation” readers) as it rolls. Because whoever this author is; she needs an audience. Hell, she needs a paying audience.
In my opinion, “Buttered Toast” needs a megaphone as well, and I’m just trying to help.
Posted on May 24th, 2012 by jack-of-all-thumbs
Filed under: Rants and Musings