Sound bytes. That’s all I seem to have time for these days. It’s easy and I’m lazy. Period. I’ve had a love hate relationship with blogging and a love love relationship with Facebook. It’s true. Just ask one of my 1600 closest friends. Pop on in for a pseudo-conversation and a peek at my latest flair or mobile upload. Stop by here and see the dust collecting on my pretty daisies. It’s sad really, my laziness. I love writing, so why don’t I make the time to put fingers to keys and produce something worth reading? Laziness. Oh how I hate that word. Poor time management. Yes, that too. I like Facebook. Did I mention it’s easier?
I fondly remember the days when my blogging buddies and I frequented each others pages, spreading our encouragement, laughing at each other’s silliness, praying each other through the crappy days, and recommending books, music, movies, and other blogs. Many of them have abandoned blogging all together. Me? I’ve been treading water for a long time, trying to decide if I was circling the drain, just out for a lazy (there’s that word again) float, or if I was just taking a little break from the exercise.
Blogging used to be fun. Then I joined a writer’s group and it became not-so-fun. (Yes, I worded the sentence that way on purpose.) What was once spontaneous and gave me a public voice, became a millstone around my neck as I learned about platform, audience, self-promotion, and the words, “If you want to be successful, you NEED a blog.” Uh oh. Did I sense a bandwagon approaching? Is that what happened? Someone told me that I NEED a blog, so my rebellious spirit rose up to prove them wrong? I had been blogging for 5 years at that point. I didn’t NEED my blog, but I wanted it. I watched as friends who had no desire to blog, created their sites and dutifully (another word I’m not fond of) clicked away to build their network. I hopped on over to Facebook and began getting friend requests from writers who don’t know me but wanted me to “be their fan” and help promote their work. Sure. I can do that. But me? Forced to blog because that’s what writers do? That rebellious spirit planted both feet, squared her shoulders up (can you see her hands on her hips and the challenging gleam in her eyes?) and said, “Wanna bet?”
Who likes being told what to do? How do I reign that girl in? How is it August already and I haven’t posted since January? I’m feeling it again. I want to blog. I want to connect through the written word and I want to have the freedom to use more than 140 characters, so I still fail to see the point of Twitter. Sorry. Facebook is my friend, but I miss my old friends, so here I am. I’m back again.
How have you been?
Sometimes I Write 