Well, I knew it would come to this. I knew that at some point I'd feel self-conscious about blogging.
Maybe you've felt this way, too...you wonder if you have anything new or different or even relevant to share? Well, lately that's what I've been going through with this blog.
And it's funny. I couldn't be more productive in my other areas of writing. I recently finished the twelve week program, "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron (and I plan on doing it again). I've been faithfully writing my morning pages, "showing up to the page" just about every day, submitting stories, (I made it out of the first round in the NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge, surprising myself by placing first in my group).
The writing life is good. So what happened to my blog?
Maybe it started when my brother Jamie told me he read it. But he didn't post any comments. So, what did that mean? (And by the way, he's a very supportive guy, having outgrown the need to torment his older sister. Usually.)
Okay then, so who else was reading...and not commenting?
Were they not commenting because (gasp) they had nothing good to say about it? Or worse, maybe they weren't leaving a comment because my posts didn't make an impression one way or the other (gah!).
The stretch of days between my last blog entry and current opportunity to blog grew to monstrous proportions. The more time that passed, the less I felt I could say--or even have the right to say--out there in Blogville (and I'm the mayor!). How could I possibly say anything when clearly I had nothing to say? (Even Seinfeld couldn't sell that idea.)
My blog would gather dust and disintegrate into the wind of disuse and then simply cease to be.
Well, that would suck. Forget that idea.
The only thing to do, then, is keep blogging, moving forward, risking the possibility of turning out crap from time to time and maybe...just maybe...writing a blog that makes a difference to somebody, somewhere.
