I started blogging back in 2006 on LiveJournal because I enjoy writing and it was a good way to share pieces of my day with friends. The blog was public but I knew the only ones reading were the handful of friends with whom I had shared the URL. The writing was more of a storytelling nature and felt intimate. A few of those posts were some of my favorite pieces of writing ever. The connections and comments on that blog were strong and real.
Then, I began to see new readers leaving comments and we started communicating between our blogs and in email. They became as important to me as my ‘real’ friends. And when I moved here to Reflecting on WordPress, everyone from LJ, as well as some lovely new friends came with me. The relationships grew stronger and the writing with it. Everything I came across in a day was potential blog fodder. I would jot down notes and reminders on anything handy because the post ideas came seemingly out of thin air. It was the most fun I have had writing.
Now, there are days when I feel like a stranger on my own blog. I have lost some online friends along the way, comments are down, and the writing is sparse. The connection has been lost. I like to joke that Twitter ate my blog post but am I really that far off? Twitter and Facebook get my immediate attention and the people who ‘follow’ me there are more likely to know what I am going through than this blog is. My time tends to be spent there, where interaction is more immediate, because I still crave that connection.
I worry that this blog is going to die of neglect but at the same time, I don’t know what to share here anymore. I can go on writing the occasional book review and recipe post with a handful of ‘what am I going to do with my life’ posts thrown in for good measure…oh wait, no I can’t. I’m over the angst-filled days and sleepless nights. So what is left?
Inspiration is out there, I know it. I am just struggling to find what it is that will light the fire in my writing and make this the place it used to be. Or better. I want this to be a place that readers find amusing, enlightening, and affirmative. I want to improve my skills, hone my style, and find joy in pursuing a passion.
But above all, I just want to stop feeling like a stranger here.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009 at 10:02 pm
ebb and flow dude… ebb and flow.
Don’t fight it. Let it come. Maybe it will and maybe it won’t. Doesn’t change the Debra. You still rock.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009 at 10:27 pm
Exactly what David said. If you feel like writing, if you feel like you have something to say. do it. If not, don’t. It’s easy to get caught up in the stress of having to post, but the reality is, it’s your blog. We’ll all still be here when you write.
(But if not, I’m glad we’re Facebook friends!)
Thursday, July 9, 2009 at 1:11 am
May I suggest a possible solution? I think the issue is that you feel you may have said all you need or can say (which I know not to be the case).
One of my favourite art forms is the haiku (which, interestingly enough reminds me of twitter due to its physical restraints). We know haiku in the western world as individual pieces. What we forget is that haiku often formed linked chains, bouncing back between master and student, and student and student.
Look at some of the, frankly superb, writing your fellow bloggers are throwing out, whether it be serious or not. Look at some of the completely random but sometimes gold-dust passions/comments/thoughts on twitter. Use them as a springboard to either discuss or elaborate on or extrapolate from. This what I did in the State of Loneliness, using Mary’s excellent Are You Lonesome Tonight post to underpin something I had been struggling to write.
This is the way I see blogging going, if it isn’t already; moving from the personal into the shared, from the singular to the debate; in a sense becoming a proper community of interactive bloggers, raising and examing our collective navels from all angles (or angels, whichever you prefer). Perhaps it has already happened and, as ever, I am way behind the curve.
Just a thought. *But damn if I’m not going to blog about this*
Thursday, July 9, 2009 at 6:06 am
my blog feels like your blog. perhaps they should hang out together
but seriously, i can’t say it any better than david did.
Thursday, July 9, 2009 at 7:36 am
I agree, Facebook has been eating away at my blog postings. It also seems that the postings that I do manage to get out are short and as in depth. Glad to hear that I’m not the only one who feels that way.
Thursday, July 9, 2009 at 9:53 am
Ya, don’t worry so much. I just did a post today on how to become re-inspired when you run out of things to blog about. Maybe there’ll be something useful there?
Thursday, July 9, 2009 at 10:36 am
I don’t know, I said to someone last night that Twitter has killed blogs. Don’t know if it’s true or not really.
I guess my piece of assvice for you would be, just write when you want. And try not to worry about it. Because eventually you will have a ton to say again.
Friday, July 10, 2009 at 12:07 pm
I have been feeling this way as well, and wrote a similar post on the subject recently. I gave myself permission to stop blogging altogether, but found I wanted to do it again. I’m writing only when I want to, however I want to, and experimenting with different things.
Given your recent epiphany, it makes sense that your blog feels like a stranger. You’ve experienced a kind of rebirth, and your blog might go through a transformation of some kind as well. Give yourself time to step back from it and see what you feel like doing with it (if anything).
Friday, July 10, 2009 at 3:10 pm
As you have noticed, my blog is on a bit of a hiatus. Similar issues.
I started as a mommy blogger, but now that my subject is getting older, I want to scale back from just remarking on how he is growing. I have other things to say, but I still want my blog to be family-friendly.
Also, due to everyone knowing I blog, I find I’m self-censoring my work – depending on the story.
Friday, July 10, 2009 at 4:47 pm
I quit watching TV back when that disgusting Enzyte Bob commercial insulted every thinking adult … I have devoted that time to my blog every day and it is much more enjoyable than endless mindless commercials and fake news reports. So the next time the volume doubles during the everlasting commercial break and you are scrambling for the remote to turn it down … turn it off and go blog
Saturday, July 11, 2009 at 9:14 am
I have noticed the number of readers going down on my blog too. I assume it is a combo of summer, Facebook and Twitter. I’m not even sure how to get into those or if I want to. Guess I will keep plugging along and see what happens.
Saturday, July 11, 2009 at 9:42 am
I think facebook is eating my blog, too. Also like everything important I have to say about the world, I’ve said already. I keep trying to put stuff out there, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll keep going.
Saturday, July 11, 2009 at 1:51 pm
I have given serious thought to dumping twitter and facebook for exactly this reason. It is sabotaging my blogging.
Monday, July 13, 2009 at 7:39 am
I’m down to once or twice a week due to work and commitments with the kids and all the other stuff that makes up life. I think if you write when inspired, and write about what inspires you, you’ll be fine.
Monday, July 13, 2009 at 8:16 am
I, too, have noticed that if I spend too much time on Facebook, my blogging suffers. So I guess that means I don’t need my blog to talk to people anymore?
Thursday, July 16, 2009 at 1:29 pm
Interestingly enough, I avoid tweeting often to avoid it eating my blog, but I read your tweets and enjoy 99% of them. The 1% I don’t enjoy are “Help me, I’m dying inside.” Not that I’m all, “Oh whatever, whiny-face,” but more “ahhh, debra’s sad and that makes me sad.” And you know what? It really does. I’ve also been reading your posts, but not commenting because I am a goof and didn’t want to make light of your low points or epiphany. One thing I am is interested about what’s happening here, because you are an excellent writer and whatever you write about is interesting to me. Even questionable recipes