Someone asked me why I decided to do this whole Blog-A-Day thing. “Don’t you know you can’t possibly produce 30 good pieces back to back?” they say. “Don’t you know how badly this could go?”
Of course I do.
Fear of producing any post that was less than perfect blocked my creative ducts for years. I started ideas, then lost the silver thread that was to both guide me safely through the word choices and metaphors AND tie everything together in a neat and shiny package. And once that thread was dropped, everything was dropped.
What? Publish a less than Pulitzer post on an almost entirely unread blog?
I mean, what would happen if…
No one read?
No one commented?
No one Facebook liked or shared?
Then my words would have bubbled their way out only to be popped in abject obscurity.
All nothing. All FOR nothing.
Well you know what? Boo frickety hoo.
All of the above has happened, continues to happen and will happen again- repeatedly, no doubt- and yet here I am, with the audacity to stand and to keep writing.
Because for the first time, I get it. I get why I NEED to write. Not because I’m good (not all the time, anyways) but because writing about my demons exorcises them.
Writing about not writing is still writing.
It’s another chance to flex my brain and my fingers,
To bend poetry and prose to capture the wild, creative caprice of my mind.
It’s about digging into the corners and shadows of my brain and my heart, of my memories and my fears, of my wonderings and my what-ifs. It’s about shedding odd literary contortions and writer-ese, and finding the real voice under there, the one that really sounds like me, because it is.
Because more than just pretty or profound, I want my blog to be real.
I want real parents and teachers and diabetics and leftover flower children and perfectionists to come here and see pieces of themselves and their truths here.
Most importantly, I want to look back on these posts and see MYSELF here.
Deciding to do this at the time I chose (Health! School! End of year chaos!) is essentially a boot camp approach to kicking my writing butt into shape. When I know I have a daily deadline then time magically manifests. Well no…not so magical. It’s more like I grab time and I scritch-scratch seconds out of it until I have bleeding fingernails and a flimsy pile of time I turn into a blog post.
It’s amazing how many uncounted seconds lived in my life that I never knew about until now.
Because of Blog-A-Day, I now know it’s possible to type with one hand (bless you, Android Swype) while balancing a toddler intent on eating the phone and entertaining a 3 year old with on-the-fly stories of trucks named Jude who like to sleep
(FYI subliminal messages? Lost on 3 year olds.)
(Correction: subliminal messages not involving Dora, Caillou or any other technicolour toddler terror is lost on them)
Because of Blog-A-Day I take big toxic internal blobs and turn them into blogs, or blogs-in-waiting, as I process with purpose rather than with endless, pointless but poetic brooding.
I’ll tell you something Internet. I’m not too very old, but have I lived some LIFE. And if I’m ever going to share it, and roll it up in some pithy proverb (coated in cookie crumbs) then gosh darn it, that time is NOW.
NOW when I couldn’t POSSIBLY manage one more task
Now when I couldn’t POSSIBLY spend time trying to figure out HOW to say the things on my mind.
Now when I couldn’t POSSIBLY have ANYTHING on my mind that didn’t revolve around tests and test setting, and marking and grading and failing.
Now when my life is so full of real-time crises that I’m so busy trying to survive that I couldn’t POSSIBLY have time to process or write about or share.
Now when everything is still so real and so raw that I couldn’t POSSIBLY want people in this space.
Now is when I will do this.
Because now is when I must.
So forgive me for the posts that will be terrible, and for the posts that will break your heart. Funs ones will make their way back around.
Please stay for the support.
And come back for the cookies. For courage.