For someone who loves to write, who resents every time I have to close my laptop to fix dinner for people who continually insist that they get hungry every evening, I find it oddly fascinating how truly and deeply I hate to blog.
I have been pondering on the reasons behind this and I’ve come up with a few that might fit.
- I lack the basic narcissism necessary to be a blogger. Don’t get me wrong, like most Americans, I think far more highly of myself than I deserve, but even I can’t imagine that anyone wants to read my thoughts about life or food or parenting. I don’t know what I’m doing! Don’t take advice from me! I am the quintessential make-it-up-as-I-go-along kind of person. I rarely look before I leap; I’m not prone to deep, philosophical thoughts; I don’t come up with paradigm-shifting, earth-shattering ideas… In all honesty, other than a few notable exceptions, my life is pretty vanilla. What would I even say in a blog?
- Blogging is a lot of work. The need to continually come up with something unique, insightful, humorous, interesting… (the list goes on), is more stress than I care to deal with. Let’s face it, I’m a little bit lazy, and during my brief flirtation with blogging I did not enjoy feeling like I needed to post something ‘wowing’ every week. Plus, blogging is a competitive business, and I found that I just didn’t care enough about it to put in the effort to get the contacts to make it successful. There are amazing people out there that do this and thrive on it. They are born salesmen. Me, not so much.
- Blogging is not the same thing as noveling (if that isn’t a word, it totally should be). When I novel (See? I’m turning a noun into a verb. I can do that, I’m a writer.) my characters get to tell their thoughts and feelings—they get to have adventures and romances, and I get to sit back and just let their story come through my fingertips. It’s work, don’t get me wrong, but it’s fun and exciting work! Blogging, on the other hand, is a chore. With blogging I have to sit and think if there’s anything going on in my life that I can maybe turn into a topic, and all that sitting and thinking about my life is a little bit depressing. It always ends with the stark realization that I’m 39; that I’ve chosen to put my life on hold to have and raise five children (honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way—being a mom is the best job ever); and now that I finally get some time to do something for me, it’s obvious that my intellect has been neglected for too long because I’ve chosen to use that long-awaited time to blog, which is awful. Which starts me back to thinking about my life. *sigh* It’s a vicious cycle.
The conclusion? Blog on if you’re a blogger. Mom on if you’re a mother. Lead on if you’re a leader. Plumb on if you’re a plumber. Whatever you enjoy, do it well. Me? I’m content to live in my fantasy world and spin yarns. Hopefully, one of these days, my talent and determination will land me an agent and a publisher. Until then, I’ll write on, because I’m a writer.