It’s kind of surprising to realize that I’ve been blogging more frequently, now that I have so much less time to spend on it. And I’m realizing . . . I’m running out of things to talk about.
One of my friends very recently hit 500 posts, which blows my mind.
Now, if you know me at all, you would likely know that – introvert aside – I ramble incessantly. I ramble to my friends. I ramble to strangers when they speak to me (nervous-rambling). How in the world could I be running out of things to talk about?
Here’s the issue. Or, well, the issueS.
1) I’m not quite ready to talk about my book(s), past information about what’s going on with them. It’s weird, I know. Counterproductive, for sure. But that’s where I’m at. Once the progress has . . . er . . . progressed a bit further, that will change. But right now? I’m waiting with the big one, and working on new ones. That’s all there is to say.
2) Okay, so I’m following a lot of blogs. A LOT. More of them every day that I sit down here for more than ten minutes at a time. I’m following a LOT of author blogs, and I read them. You should give me a hug for it, really, because I’m awesome. Just kidding.
Anyway, so, I see a lot of things that authors write about. Mostly, we write about writing, I’ve noticed. Not all of us, and not all the time, but majority? Yes. We write about our books and we write about writing. That’s cool. I always find it EXTREMELY interesting to read the thoughts and methods of my fellow authors (whether they be established or aspiring [like me] – it makes zero difference to me). The thing about those sorts of blogs is that the writers of them . . . Well . . . they write well.
My brain just doesn’t work in a . . .
Let me start again because that was going to sound HORRIBLE.
I’m not fantastic at drawing people in with blogging. To me, blogging is, “Hey, this is what I think.” So I write blogs the way that I think, or speak. I don’t write blogs the way that I write. I could probably train myself out of it, but why would I want to? You just get a big dose of ME here. Lots of ellipses and parenthetical asides. Lots of two word sentences and general trailing off. Lots of ADD moments. That’s me. I know how I write (on here, with books, in general) and that’s just the way it is.
OH MY GOD, WHEN AM I GOING TO STOP THROWING THE SAME BRUCE HORNSBY LYRIC INTO MY BLOGS?
That is what you get from me. Bruce Hornsby. Am I THE ONLY person in the world that loves him? I digress.
So this is where I’m at.
Do I think the saint-like people following me want to hear about potato salad?
No. I’m not sorry about that. It was like . . . four lines.
Do I think that all of you glorious people out there want to see pictures of my dog?
No. I’ve thought about it . . .
Do I think all of you MAGNIFICENT people who waste your time reading the nonsense that I have to say want to read about how I – FOR SOME REASON – cannot stop typing the third letter in don’t and then clicking Don on the auto-word of my phone?
Certainly not. But it happens. Pretty much every time. Don’t is on the left with the second letter, and the right with the third. Don is left on the third. Don it is.
EVERY TIME. >.<
So . . . I sometimes wonder what I’m doing on here. Here is a place, chock full of people who have a trillion interesting things to say.
I’m thinking about asking for guest bloggers – mostly because that’s how I’ve found a lot of the people I’m following (through other people’s blogs that I’m following).
I’ll probably write up another entry (probably tomorrow) doing the asking for that very thing. This is already my second for the day and I don’t want to overkill feeds.
No, really. That’s all.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . For now. *cue evil laugh*