Today I realized why I didn’t blog more. Writing is lonely work at times. It’s a natural introverted activity-writing comes from within. Even technical writing requires some solitude-for research, for editing, for the careful turn of a phrase. Thanks to blogging, you do hear from readers and even the occasional troll and spam poster. I bet writers of old would have loved to get feedback of some kind other than rejection letters and critic articles.
Perhaps I’m a little spoiled. Writing used to be more strenuous-long lines of script, the endless pounding of typewriter keys and the carbon paper and whiteout corrections with their endless typos and chemical stains. All I have to do is write on a screen: corrections can be made immediately, silently, and reversibly.
I no longer have to send bulky manuscripts in the mail to some distant publishing house and wait for weeks and hope someone actually reads it, if only to send me a rejection letter. BTW, I never did that-no finished tome to send.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I was still working-and could get out of the house more often. Even mindless work gets you outside for 8 hours a day, and can be endless fodder for stories, jokes, and just observing everyday life. Yes, it’s dull, but its still people and their everyday lives.
But it’s still rewarding for all of that. And if nobody ever reads it, at least I wrote it.
Tags: The Blog as a Whole