Have you ever done something for so long that you don’t even think about it, but then you stop doing it and completely lose track of how to start again?
That’s kind of what happened with me and blogging.
I’ve been writing plenty; I have merely not been writing here. Read into that what you will, as a betrayal-of-self or what have you. Or just take it as written (or not).
When I first started blogging eons ago, it was almost automatic. I didn’t ever think, “oh, I’m gonna go blog now,” or anything approaching that level of formality. I just did it. Words flowed out of my fingers. While I’ve never been a very personal blogger, I used it as a communication platform, and became quite friendly with a bunch of people who had similar interests — many of whom I’m still friends with to this very day. It was like a very public conversation, rather than a monologue. I liked that.
It also served as a distraction from anything else that was going on in my life at that time. School, work — you name it. As time went on, my blogging became more fannish in nature. That is, I primarily wrote enthusiastic or excoriating posts about any and every bit of media I loved.
Again, these were all things I didn’t even think about. I mean, I thought while I was writing them, certainly. But I didn’t plot out the process and go “oh, now I’m going to write about this, witty reference here, witty reference there, well-researched bit here, there you go.” I just did it.
That is, I fear, where I’ve gone astray with trying to maintain this (more ostensibly) professional blog. I’ve reined myself in far too much. The things that make me me, the things that make my writing appeal to anyone that it may appeal to are generally enthusiasm, occasional bursts of spontaneous wit, and a
slightly very off-kilter sense of humor. And an ability to do far too much research on anything and everything.
I let myself be overcautious, and for that, I am sorry. Henceforth, I shall try to not try so hard.
Hold me to it, will you?