And Haiku to You, Too

This weekend, after a harmless conversation about Oprah Winfrey and Lean Cuisine, I got to thinking about haikus.  (If you were a part of the conversation, you’d totally understand.) 

The thing I love about haikus is their ability to convey a fully-formed and (mostly) coherent thought in the smallest amount of space.  For those who don’t know, a haiku is a Japanese poetic form consisting of 17 syllables broken up into a pattern of 5-7-5.  I’ve often found that haikus are like hand grenades: deceptively small until you pull the pin and watch the explosion that follows.  You’ll rarely find a poem shorter than a haiku, but when you actually read it, it will leave you wondering at how something so tiny could say so much and fill your brain with so much awesome.

For writers who find themselves a bit too wordy, writing a haiku is an excellent way to practice the art of brevity.  Sometimes it’s hard to stay concise and only say what is absolutely necessary in order to make your point.  With a haiku, it’s nearly impossible to add unnecessary fluff.  As an added bonus, writing haikus may just stir some story ideas in the process.

Deflowering a Blog Virgin

So, in a way, this whole blog came about because of pole-dancing.  Well, the idea of pole-dancing.  As a form of exercise, not as a profession.  (Not that I'm judging or anything.  Because that would be wrong.)

I'm rambling.  Let me start over.

Last week, I met up with some friends from high school, most of whom I hadn't seen in years.  As we were discussing the goings-on of our daily lives, one person mentioned how she had started taking some pole-dancing lessons, a fun and effective way of staying fit.  Naturally, I was intrigued (though a bit upset to learn that the classes did NOT include getting to wear sparkly, sequined costumes).  But again I digress.

My first thought, after my lamentation over the absence of the aforementioned sparkly number, was that the image of me trying to shimmy up a pole would not only be horrifyingly dangerous, but also insanely hilarious.  Athletic and/or coordinated, I am not.  This, of course, led me to my second thought, which was that trying something like this, whether it be pole-dancing, underwater basket-weaving, sky-diving, etc., would make excellent writing material, especially for the comedic gold it would no doubt supply.  As an aspiring writer, I was ecstatic.  How could I possibly go wrong?  I would go out and try a myriad of different activities, gaining life experience in the process, and then come home and blog about my many foibles, occasionally offering a nugget or two of advice on how (not) to do things.