As a writer, I have difficulty in finding a balance between writing and blogging. I always question my blogging motives. Why write a blog post for free when I should be revising a story I want to sell to a magazine? Writing is my focus, not blogging.
But I discovered something interesting about blogging. Blogging is a cutoff jeans style of writing. It’s spontaneous and uncommitted. It’s that draft you wrote and may never use. A virtual journal like skywriting in the clouds, though the words linger here, at least for a while. It can be a slice of time. A moment of introspection. Something you jotted down on a piece of paper and forgot.
Blogging can nudge you out of a writing slump when your thoughts become mired in sludge. It can extract you from a page when you get stuck on a word or phrase, while your inner voices spew insults at you. “You’re not a writer. You got lucky the last time that magazine published your piece.”
Inner voices can be as judgmental as your fashionista neighbor who stink-eyes you when you get caught wearing a summer handbag after labor day weekend.
Ignore the voices and meddling neighbor. Put that handbag on your desk next to your keyboard. It’s writing time. Your creative safe place, a Kravitz free zone.
When you start blogging, don’t worry about a beginning, middle or end. Don’t worry about a title. You don’t need one until the end. All you need is your butt in the chair and fingers on the keyboard. Maybe a source of inspiration: use a picture, find a headline, consult your dog or cat. They might harbor hours of anecdotes you can use.
Don’t worry about blogging every day. Blog on your own terms. You set the rules. Blog in blissful ignorance of what others may think is the right way to write. Blogging is your failsafe way to get words on the page. It can instill you with confidence and motivate you to continue a project. Blogging is the child in you who needs an occasional break during homework. It’s your escape when life gets in the way. No worries here. Just free-range words running wild on the page.
Don’t think about where you’re going, or how to get there. Let your thoughts take you away on any train. The thrill is in the ride. You’ll remember the journey if you unplug from the Internet when you’re done–before you get lost online in the place where time is elusive and GPS is a fantasy.
Quit and be reborn.