I’m a terrible blogger. I’m not regular, or consistent, and sometimes I hate it. I mean, I should love it, because it’s writing. It’s writing whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I feel like it. But to be good at it, I should have a system. I should have a schedule. With organization, you guys can know when I’ll be posting and what I might be posting about. I don’t even know why you guys keep coming back. Apparently, you’re just awesome.
The experts say we should be professional, and professionals are organized. I can’t organize a damn thing. You should see my bathroom.
I’ve really tried to be organized. I’ve tried to set up a schedule, but then I’m all “Ugh, I have to blog about this or that now.” I hate schedules. I prefer writing when the inspiration hits me, even when it’s not fiction. I hate coming up with ideas, because I’m never sure what will be interesting or entertaining. Maybe I find the subject fascinating, but I imagine you guys sitting there like:
Oh, I have ideas. I have lots of ideas. I list them. Stare at them. Delete them. List them again. And then I panic. Sure, I can write stories. I know I can write well enough to engage my readers most of the time, but I’m a writer, so it doesn’t matter. Writers are masochistic, self-doubting yet slightly narcissistic drama queens. We love writing shit, but when it’s out there, book or blog post, we’re terrified someone will hate it. Doesn’t matter if it’s one person out of one hundred people doing the hating. That one person keeps us up at night. Blogging is kind of like another way to be rejected. Do I really need another way to tell myself I’m not good enough?
I don’t put this much thought into every blog post. I don’t analyze, agonize or freak the fuck out every time I write something. It’s just when I realize it’s been an entire month without a blog post, and I’m trying to decide what to do about it that I panic a little. And when you have to blog regularly, as we really should because marketing and shit, there comes a point where ideas are torture. I fucking hate the word “idea” today. Yesterday, it was a shiny concept I loved with all my heart. It was exciting and full of potential. I wanted to love it and squeeze it and never let it go. Today, it’s a poisonous little viper waiting to bite me in the ass.
Sigh. But as a writer, I’m supposed to have tons of ideas, right? I think it’s the choosing part that paralyzes me. I think, “Oh, I have to write a blog post today,” and my brain goes:
Because that means coming up with a topic that is worthy of an author blog and one that is not something I’ve done before. Authors aren’t supposed to blog about our personal lives, and I think I keep that to a minimum. We’re not supposed to blog about writing all the time either, because most readers don’t give a shit about our “process.” Hell, I don’t either. When I see an author’s blog includes how they do this or that while writing, I’m all,
And I can’t rant all the time. I know I rant far more than I should. I’m working on it. For the record, this is not a rant. Not. A. Rant.
This is just explaining why sometimes I’m amusing and all that, and sometimes I’m silent. I published four books in two months, because I’m insane.
But I’m not dance naked in butterfly wings crazy. There’s that. I have two more books almost ready to go, and I’m working on three rough drafts simultaneously, because I can’t slow my brain down long enough to work on just one. I should. I know this. But I can’t. Anyway, on top of this I have work. The day job. The day job is exhausting, but I still enjoy it, because material. And then I caught a cold or a flu… I’m not sure what it is, but it’s nasty and has lasted way too long.
Now I’m whining. Let’s stop that. My point is I was struggling to stay afloat, so I put off the blogging. I put off the Internetting. I just put off everything and binge-watched six seasons of Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix. Holy shit, that show just sucks the feelings right out of you.
But I said to myself a few days ago, “Self, you need suck it up. Stop being a manic psycho and get writing.” So, here I am, writing about hating blogging, when I don’t actually hate it, because the other ideas didn’t seem right.
Are you dizzy yet? Me too. Let’s call it a day. I just wanted to explain to you guys why sometimes it seems like a really long time between blog posts. And I’ve done that. Sort of.
7 thoughts on “Bad Blogger”
You know, I hear that fiber will help you with the regularity.
And whoever said that authors shouldn’t blog about their personal lives was just wrong. Seriously wrong. What’s the point of having a blog as an author if not to connect with your readers, and you can’t do that by being impersonal.
Good points. I try to keep my personal life blogging connected to my writing and books. I just don’t write entire posts about how my dogs came straight from Hell or share recipes or cleaning tips. 😉
Because I almost never cook or clean.
I don’t know. A post about your dogs coming from Hell sounds entertaining at the very least. I wonder if they were on the same bus as my cat.
They’re demons. The cat is their leader.
Authors don’t blog about their personal lives? Hornswoggle. Hugh’s been building an entire boat in three month’s worth of blog posts, for pity’s sake, when he’s not making videos of yoga workouts. I know an author that writes about his family regularly, particularly his disabled daughter. Another writes about his adopted son, and rants about yard work. Another loves science, and writes about it a lot. That’s just a start. I try to keep up with all of their posts because they are interesting and friendly people, and I never miss one of their books.
Blogs by authors that only write about their books and writing get boring in a hurry. I may or may not notice their books, because I’m not paying as much attention to them. So there’s a reader’s viewpoint.
But I am relieved to know that you will not be sharing recipes and cleaning tips, because that kind of crap makes me feel vaguely guilty and lazy. I hate that.
So personal life is okay? Well, that adds a slew of blog ideas to my list. 😉 And no one wants my recipes anyway. I have no cleaning tips except if you clean it, you’ll just have to do it again tomorrow.