No, this isn’t going to be a bunch of soul-searching woolgathering about my life and why things are they way the are. I’m in control of my circumstances, thank you very much, so bemoaning my fate would imply I believe things are up to fate, which I don’t.
This is, however, going to be a bunch of soul-searching woolgathering about my blog and why I’m still doing it. And whether I should be. Or even want to be.
When I started this, the idea was to have something to get me writing every day. To keep the literary muscles limbered up and in use, and thereby inspire me to get after the writing projects that have been sitting around dormant for far too long. Along the way, it turned into a means to work out some things, unload, share, experiment, and generally let people into my head, a few hundred words or so at a time.
Lately though, the whole thing has started to feel like a chore. This chunk of text looming over my day. Just another routine. And it’s got me wondering whether I’ve lost the purpose of the thing for the sake of its maintenance.
I’ve previously grumbled about naming this blog The Daily Rich, and the schedule that implies. But that’s been a self-imposed adherence; there’s nothing forcing me to post something every single day, just sheer stubbornness. Besides, I’ve already allowed myself a day or two a week where I give it a miss, and I’ve missed weeks due to vacation and illness and such. So the promise of the name has already been broken. And even if it weren’t, I see plenty of blogs whose posts consist of nothing more than a sentence or two on the days when nothing substantial is in the offing. No reason I couldn’t do that. Hell, it’s what I did yesterday. So I’ve got options if I’m feeling a little burned out.
I just don’t know if that’ll help. Sometimes I feel so wrapped up in what to write for this, that it swallows up the effort I’d like to put into other things. I’ve done almost 1,200 posts on this blog over the last four years. If you figure that as an average of even a paltry 300 words per post, that’s 360,000 words. That’s enough for three or four decent-length novels. Not that I can guarantee my work would have been put into that had I not been doing this blog, or that I regret not having done so, but it’s a sobering thought.
Well, some 400 words later, and I still don’t know how I feel. I guess if you see a post tomorrow, you’ll know what I decided. We’ll see.