Don’t you love the posts you start without a topic in mind or any semblance of structure? Here I go, I’m typing out words. Look at me go! I wonder how this post might end up. You type and type just hoping to get to that place where the tracks merge into one lane.
Or they don’t.
I’m learning that it really doesn’t matter anymore. I have come across some amazing writers that are all about structure and are very much “a post a day is how I do it, blah blah blah”. I’ve also been fortunate enough to cross paths with those that write once or week or once every few weeks. Posts that are still every bit as insightful and entertaining.
The issue I have or been having is that in all this crazy talented writing I read from others, it can sort of hinder my own self writing worth. I tend to look at those daily writers and think to myself, “they got their ducks in a row. Clearly they are meant to do this.” Then I look at the weekly writers and think to myself, “they always have an important message to get out. Every week. Nothing happens in my life like that. My brain doesn’t see things randomly like that.”
All very self-defeating behavior, I know.
Having blogged for over 4 years with 3 different personal blogs and not having anything to show for it as far as past posts simply because you didn’t like the writing or needed that dreaded “fresh start” can make you question your commitment. Walking away from two sites you helped create takes more out of you (artistically) than you might think. Once, your name was on a business card being passed out at blogging conventions. Next minute, you are starting a post with “Don’t you love the posts you start without a topic in mind or any semblance of structure?”
I think it has taken a toll on finding any sense of rhythm you thought you may have had once. 100% of that falls on my shoulder and I totally accept it. I still stand by walking away and know it was right. That being said, it left me a bit dazed and confused. You have a small presence and then you don’t. What’s next? Well, I simply continued to walk around dazed and every bit confused.
A writer much better than me has challenged me to a 3 part journey. A Past/Future/Present series. The past in regards to something that has to die. Something holding you back that you need to let go. The future is something that you love and need to remind yourself to be dedicated to. The present? The things that you’re missing. Things that are slipping away that you need to reclaim and enjoy.
This is Part One.
This self-defeating mindset in this odd blog business I’ve walled myself around needs to die. And the only way to kill it is to do one thing…
Keep writing.
Never Had One Lesson 
THIS is an awesome post, one that will “hinder my own self writing worth.” Yes, don’t roll your eyes. I do this every freaking day and every freaking post. Plus, my name has never been on a business card being passed out at blogging conventions. Work things? Yes. Blog things that I could actually care about? No.
While everyone else seems to be on the straight and narrow to Successville, I’m left tripping over my words, words that I more often than not simply keep to myself. I’m glad that you shared this today, and I like this new challenge you have. Melanie is a smart woman. I look forward to following your journey.
You’re more of a presence than you give yourself credit for.
Seriously.
Just keep writing, just keep writing. Like Dory, only less swim-y.
This was a stupid comment. Stick an umbrella in it. That’ll make it better.
This. This is why it works.
Kill it! Kill it!
“Clearly they are meant to do this.” – this one always gets me too. There’s that quote out there that you know you’re a writer if you’d die if you couldn’t do it—if you MUST write. And…well…I mean come on, I’m not gonna DIE if I can’t write. There’s that story and a thousand others that tell me that I’m lesser-than.
Tell those demons to eff right off.
I’m with you. I’d probably be perfectly fine not writing. I may even get married and have children one day. I think those that say they would die if they couldn’t write probably don’t have much to say.
Oh, also: “much better than me”? Rubbish. I mean, sure, I’m 10 kinds of fantastic, but so are you.
p.s. I totally don’t have the self-esteem to think I’m any number of kinds of fantastic, but I like to pretend I do. It’s fun. You try.
Good word. Rubbish. That’s at least 7 kinds right there.