Thinking about this most recent bout of writing inspiration or, more accurately, I am lately inspired to want to find inspiration to write. Which is different than actually writing. Obviously tracking my Taiwan adventures is writing, but I’m talking about the refinement of the craft, the diligence and practice that leads to great instead of merely competent. I miss the days of working on stories line-by-line in hopes of building the best sentences possible.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned to someone how I used to do spoken word — he mocked me, actually, but nonetheless, I maintain that the pleasure in hearing an audience react to something I’ve written in the way I intended was a powerful, rewarding thing. To get a laugh when delivering the punchline or a sigh over a melancholy twist or to see people nod in recognition provides tangible proof that I’ve done something worth sharing. That’s what I want. To share with a point. Even if that point is simply for a reader or listener to fall in love with a phrase that nails it, whatever “it” may be.

I think about all the time I putter about online connecting with people in a whole different way. Facebook and Twitter are fine, but is the time habitually devoted to following along, responding, as worthwhile as

— at that point, running on less than four hours of sleep and typing in bed, I completely, suddenly crashed out — apparently very tired —

Woke up to loud voices at 1 a.m. Confusing. Rose from bed, closed windows turned on AC. Surprisingly fell back asleep until 5 a.m. Been up since. On Facebook and Twitter, of course. Where was I going with that?

Oh yeah, honing one’s craft. Right.