Just. . . write.

I did not know that writing could become so important to me.

I did not know when I was little –and maybe this is true for you, too — that I would grow up to care so much about words. But it all started so early: reading books non-stop (even in the dentist’s chair during cavity fillings!); taking a calligraphy workshop at summer camp; creating surveys about dress codes and class songs; and carving out whiny, self-indulgent, and wonderful websites in HTML 1.0.

I did not know I would want to actually study writing in a formal-ish setting. I say -ish. I mean, come on, Professional Writing majors are hardly ever even decent, let alone formal. How else would we learn?

We are funny, us humans.

We document everything. We all talk! We chat, text, tweet. We email. Notebooks filled with love letters, lists, observations. Diaries, private online journals, blogs. Downloading fanfic, listening to podcasts. Lyrics, scripts, plays, poetry. How we live [communicate: use: define: control: learn: treat: etc] language is just so. got-damn. brilliant.

Linguists know. Language is living, and we’re spending our lives in an intimate relationship with the dame. (I’m calling her a dame.)

Not everyone cares to the same degree, though. Some people make their living because of their unique interest and connection to words. Others simply treat it like air–precious, necessary, but mostly out-of-mind. I believe the dame is okay with that.

She’ll get the last word.

This is a declaration. I care about writing. Writing is my personal helper, always finding new ways to make me happy. I have just enough ability to keep learning about ‘er. When I’m very, very lucky. . . I get to use writing to share an idea or a goal. Even get paid for it sometimes.

But I’m going to admit that I’m not in love with blogging.

Blogging is an amazing platform. It is saturated for good reason. For me: it is kinda… hard to do. There are a lot of supposed-to’s and excuses and confusion. I don’t want a blog just to have one. If it’s not a medium I can enjoy writing right now, then it’s time to move on. 

….Not yet. Still have a lot of tricks up my sleeve. I’m just saying that I often don’t feel satisfied when I write blog posts. It could be the topics I’m choosing or the expectations I set or the whiny voice in my head saying, “I’d rather be watching Doctor Who.”

Guess I’ll just. . . keep writing.

Question for ya: How does blogging inform (shit, sorry, academic word) or shape your writing? Or is it the other way around? And is it just me or does the word “blog” suck just a little bit?

 

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