Since putting my personal blog of seven years on ice a few weeks ago, I have been wondering just how stupid I am to have continued on in any shape or form at all. Of course there are many different ways somebody can be stupid, but I think I have a fair chance of nailing quite a few of them. Shall we elaborate?
Do I really have anything to share worth reading?
Seriously. What on earth do I have to share with the wider world? What might other people want to read? What separates me from you?
Is my writing good enough?
Can I really string words together impressively enough to make reading them a pleasure, rather than a chore? Does my lack of literary training leave you, my pathetically small audience, gnashing your teeth as you wander off in search of better punctuation?
How much does this cost?
In real terms, not so much. Zero in fact. Given the attachment of this tumblog to a domain name, the price per year is about the same as one lunch from the sandwich guy that turns up at work.
We have reached the point in a so-so blog post where I flip-flop into a consideration of the statements I have made, and navel gaze insufferably about them. I promise to keep things short.
I have lots to share that I know others are interested in - my only concern is a classic one; the most popular subjects are the most difficult to write about. The children, adoption, work, our (mine and W’s) relationship, our real life struggles, and my real thoughts about life, the universe and everything.
Why the emphasis on the word “real”? Because I very rarely stand my own ideas and opinions up to be knocked down by the passing crowd. Perhaps it’s time I did so.
The one subject I have systematically avoided over the years has been my religious faith - or lack of it - considering the propensity of others to preach their faith or belief from the rooftops, perhaps it’s time I spoke out.
I find difficulty expressing negativity. I’m not talking about the little things - complaining about the rain, or my laptop, or our pet cats. I’m talking about the big stuff; the objectional views and behaviour of others - some of whom I know and like.
The writing quality issue is one to ask somebody more knowledgeable than myself. I will admit to never writing drafts, editing, or spell checking. The words you read are as they left my fingers. I’m never going to write “On The Road”, but at least you know there is an honesty in my misuse of grammar and punctuation. The quality of content tends to increase when I am well, not stressed, and not tired. It’s not rocket science.
Perhaps I should close this post with the acceptance that I am lucky enough to claim at least a little competence at a few things in my quiet existence on this ball of mud - and writing is not one that I might be remembered for commercially.
I can live with that.