I've been feeling the urge to post more entries lately, but have been internally dissatisfied with the results. My recent 3 or 4 have come off as formulaic and forced.
But, I have been wanting to write . . . but about what? Not a lot of exciting stuff has been happening--or so I think. Plus when Tegan was in Texas I was busy with the kids and couldn't take my customary opportunity to ignore the children, forcing T. to handle everything while I pursed the life of the keyboard (kidding, really). While I was totally in charge, I didn't get the opportunity to sit down and write until late at night and then I didn't know what to do.
Other people (like Flipper, as an example) only write occasionally. I don't mention as a rebuke, because when she does write, it is always worth reading. Lulu is the same. Though her new job responsibilities have greatly reduced her blogging, when she does something, it is always worthwhile. I, on the other hand, am (seemingly) more willing to just throw stuff down and leave it at that.
That is (according to Blogger's hints to good blogging) a no-no. You have to respect your readers, make sure that what you write is always good, well constructed, thoughtful, worth other people's time. I guess, if I thought that this blogging might lead to something one day, I might be more selective and more careful. But, I've got a job right? This is just a hobby . . . which makes me a dilettante (the worst kind of writer).
So, is this all a long way of saying that my stuff is crap and you shouldn't bother any more? Yeah, probably.
But, every once in a while I write something nice. And I have great ideas in my head that I don't always translate well.
But now I've got to go eat dinner. I guess to be a good writer you have to block out everything else--kids, TV, books to read, movies to plan. I guess I don't want to do that. (And I don't claim to be a writer anyway; I'm a blogger, and anyone who has read WWYG?! or its affiliates know there is a difference.
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