“Why Do I #*^&%$@* blog?!?”
I came home tonight after a long and insane day at the paper. This last week at work I’ve done the graphics and layout for a 32 page publication along with the usual two newspapers.
I laid out my section (layout, Photoshopping, writing cutlines), wrote two stories, went to three extra activities on my own time to get photos, organized two calendars, answered countless emails… that was 40+ hours of the week.
Then I came home to make dinner, walk a dog, try to exercise, wash laundry, clean everything I just cleaned yesterday, pay bills, balance accounts, work on my own writing project, answer countless emails… and that’s another 30+ hours a week. That’s not even counting the weekend scramble. Usually, I love it. Then something happens, like tonight, and I find myself asking, “Why Do I #*^&%$@* blog?!?”
I came home an hour late tonight, did an errand on the way, walked the dog, finished a writing project for someone and I thought I’d squeeze in tomorrow’s blog post before making dinner. I’d thought about it on the walk with the dog and I was excited to write about perceived value and selling books.
I sat at the Mac and started tapping away. All was going well and I was nearing the end, all points wrapped up neatly with a bow and ready to be delivered… when a message pops up telling me I’ve been logged out. Of course I hadn’t saved a draft. Bottom line, all the work I really didn’t have time to lose was lost. That’s when I wonder if this is worth it.
Why blog? Google that query and thousands of answers pop up, all praising the art of the blog. I started this blog because I was leaving the country and I wanted to have one place I could always share what was going on with anyone who cared. A year later, when I published my first book, it became my author platform.
Daily blogging takes up a lot of time and effort. I have seven posts to consider each week. Seven ways to be engaging and bring value to the internet… it takes time away from other things I want to write, like books. If I’m not thinking about a blog post, I’m probably working on one. I squeeze in time wherever I can to work. Then I watch one evaporate into cyberspace without even a wink. I’m not angry often, but that’s when loudly and emphatically I ask, “Why Do I #*^&%$@* blog?!?”
I ask the question, but I know the answer. I #*^&%$@* blog because I enjoy it. A blog is a writer’s playground where I get to be boss. I can experiment here and get feedback. Because of overwhelmingly positive response to The Woman Walked stories I’m now doing a collection like that. It started as midnight play and became a new book. That’s why I blog.
As Dandilyon Fluff and I move closer to our five year anniversary together, I realize we are becoming comfortable. The blog knows that when it utterly annoys me, like tonight, I will remain faithful. And for the most part, it does its best not to annoy me.
I do find comfort in faith. The days when I ask myself “Why Do I #*^&%$@* blog?!?” are the days that I have to believe that somewhere, between the sunrise and rainbow’s end, there is a special place for lost blog posts, and they are waiting for me in blog purgatory for me to finally post them.
And that, is why I continue to #*^&%$@* blog.