I’ve always been amused by bloggers who announce their sabbaticals or exit from online journaling with big fanfare.
And I’m in awe of “day writers” and other nine-to-five creatives who write or produce short films in their spare time, or freelance or actually get published. They must have better time management or simply watch less TV than I do.
I love writing and this blog. Pulling stories from my hands is almost magical; time stops a little while I do it. As dramatic and Sarah Bernhardt as it sounds, I make sense of things here. I own this name, bought it earlier this year thinking I could do something more with it than attract a handful of page hits a day. Because what I do here isn’t sharing cute kids stories, or keeping up with extended families, or veiled messages (usually, although sometimes), or trying to shock you from behind a character. This is me and I want this to be something. It’s not a hobby. This is a dream and it’s lost.
But maybe there’s no big discovery anymore, no Diablo Cody moment of tripping across a lone blog among millions on the web and offering a new voice the chance to soar. Unless that blog is about shit my Dad says or awkward family photos. I’ve been here, doing this, for four years now. And although I’ve discovered and envied others talent and lusted after some and flirted with many and sometimes brought a tear and often a laugh or helped a boy fall in love with me, I haven’t found the audience that wants more. I haven’t done anything to do something.
I haven't sold me.
Sadly I don’t really call what I do for work “writing” anymore. It’s more like “word dissemination.” But I need to direct energy and attention into those words, the commerce words. I haven’t written more than a few pages this past week (and last) because I’m blocked, with no desire and little momentum and deadlines looming, editors at my chops. I need to write over there.
And not here. I may post some classic stuff, some of the things I wrote in some 429 blogs that I really like, that are really good. I said it. My writing, this storytelling is good. Really good.
So at the end of the page I don’t know the etiquette, and probably wouldn’t follow it if I did. Does one say goodbye or later gator or I’ll see you around, maybe or I may come back now and then?