I have been mulling something over.
It sometimes takes a while…no, actually, it almost always takes a good long time, for me to absorb and reflect and pay proper attention to little comments and thoughts that plant themselves in my brain.
Last week, a very good friend said, “If you really want to write your book, maybe you should blog less?”
I smiled at her; a knowing smile that suggested that was a very fine suggestion but I wouldn’t be following it.
At the TMAC panel discussion last Saturday there were comments about blogging and the time commitment required and how much was enough and I stuck up my hand to say, “I blog five days each week.”
Someone said to me later, “Wow. How do you manage that? I could never do that and have any time left for the other stuff I want to do.”
Just as these two thoughts joined a few other random comments along these same lines, it occurred to me that I was starting to feel pushed to produce something each day and that is not what I ever wanted to do.
I wanted to write about things that felt I needed to express, not just to fill a space.
In my defense, the ‘filling the space’ plan has been very infrequent. One of the things that I have loved about doing this is that I often find out what I want to be writing about, only when I open my computer and start typing.
There seem to be two types of posts for me; the one I just mentioned, where I flip open the screen and think, “OK Colleen what are you going to do now?” and the other kind where I wake up thinking about something and mulling it and half-writing it while I brush my teeth or walk.
In that regard, this is such a good writing discipline because, by virtue of this commitment to five days a week, I have to sit and write some mini-essay on something. For that, it’s been great.
But it’s the other niggling question of producing only for the sake of filling the space that bothers me. I don’t want to waste people’s time with ramblings of no-account.
Now. Some might argue that all my ramblings fit that aforementioned category. Whatever. I assume those people have left by now anyway. Besides, that is a discussion for another day…or frankly, never. I am old enough not to care too much about that.
No. I am talking about my own standards of what is acceptable and whether my self-discipline that can serve me too well, is also the very thing that can hang me up.
I have been known to swing on hooks of my own devising. Much too often. Much, much too often.
I guess what I’m saying is that I lack perspective on myself. I do not know if this blogging habit is good self-discipline or harmful.
To understand what I mean, you should know that I was raised practising piano four-hours a day. That was the deal. You can see how that kind of program could perhaps skew one’s sense of proportion.
So, my new plan is to blog four days a week and see how that feels. Which four days? I’m not sure. Definitely not on Sundays. Probably still not on Saturdays either. I think I’ll leave it at that. Somewhere between Monday and Friday. TBA.
Feel free to express your opinions on the matter or advise me on the days of the week that sound right to you.
It’ll take a while, but I promise that eventually everything that is said will percolate and coalesce into some new plan.
It’s almost guaranteed.
Well, if you were to blog Monday, Wednesday, Friday (or whatever combo of days) that leaves you Tuesday, Thursday Saturday for WRITING THE BOOK which deserves half of your time, does it not?. For me, the structuring of time is pretty important – this amorphous quality that writing lends to life is a little too open-ended for me. I want results, word counts. I’d hate to feel under the gun to blog five times a week. I guess the question would be: Would cutting back improve your blog or lessen it?
Sarah, your thoughts are so much more welcome than the other comment that came in. It was a spam commercial for pest control. It was a huge, huge monologue with embedded links to pest control. Do they really think I’m going to approve that? But perhaps I’m a little off-task – again??
Here’s why more minds are better than mine alone (aside from the very obvious).
In my mind, I need to be writing my book EVERY day, and so, the way I saw it, on the days I’m blogging I am under the gun to do both.
Your suggestion of one day on, one day off and varying it between a blogging day or a writing-the-book day had not entered my realm of possibilities until I saw it just now.
And yes. I feel very strongly that I need a structure that I can commit to. It does feel too nebulous and easily lost otherwise. And finally, I think cutting back would strengthen my blog. Probably not in the usual sense where the mantra of ‘constant fresh content is king” but more for the quality fo the content, which is my ultimate goal.
Thank you for adding to the possible ways of going at this. It is very appreciated and oh-so-necessary 🙂
I say do what feels right because although discipline is often thought to be the key to success, all those hours of practicing piano as children didn’t result in either of us wanting to be pianists or even create the urge to just sit and play for fun now, did they? There is a lesson in there somewhere, perhaps you should write about it in that novel i am waiting to read!
True enough Barb. There is a lesson in all of it. Just need to tease it out. I’m trying very hard to do that right now. In between screaming at the screen when I lose sections of text (I know the Scrivener program is great, I just wish I knew how to use it better), I hold onto the belief that I will find that truth!
Writing advice from Henry Miller – “Write first and always. Painting, music, friends, cinema – all these come afterwards.” And you already know Margaret Atwood’s famous quip, “Writng first, then the laundry.”
Just think of your blog as a movie about a friendly, singing washerwoman!
Mr. Sell. You are a scholar and a sage. It’s about setting priorities.
But you’ve ruined my blog for me. How can I ever log on again when all I can see is a big-boned off-key singing Greselda with a laundry bucket and a mop?
Seriously. Damn fine advice. As usual. Thank you.
Mr. Sell. You are a scholar and a sage. It’s about setting priorities.
But you’ve ruined my blog for me. How can I ever log on again when all I can see is a big-boned off-key singing Greselda with a laundry bucket and a mop?
Seriously. Damn fine advice. As usual. Thank you.