Writing anything is a process. Whether I am writing out a grocery list or a novel, I require a plan and expect a conclusion. And so, my children, if you interrupt this process at the beginning, you will go hungry and I will type nothing but a title page. If you interrupt this process in the middle, I will forget the eggs and the plot twists. But if you stay the heck out of my closet where Iâm desperately trying to focus and stop interrupting me asking for loose change, I will get to post my blog for tomorrow, all finished, and still have time to make your dinner. Go. Away.
My blog is a child, and itâs entering the âterrible twosâ. Yours, oh girlfriends of mine, have diapers – some have a leash and kibble bowl – but this child glows in the dark. It requires a regular feeding of sarcasm, wit and reality and it will spit it all back into my face when I least expect it. And laugh at me. It will only make into a fun story when itâs good and ready, and I can sit up all night attempting to coerce it into literary obedience. But this one has a mind of itâs own. I had five kids already. I should have seen it coming.
Subscribers and commenters cannot be underestimated. They are the bread and butter of a blog. It doesnât matter how unique or wonderful the writing is, no one cares if Facebook likes it or if youâve got a really lovely business card. If people arenât feeling compelled to push a button and respond to a blog, this work will never be published. Money is about numbers, and numbers are the only thing they count. If youâre a Subscriber, thank you, you get to be the bread, you crazy croissant, you. If you want to be the butterer-upper, though, you have to leave a comment in the box down thereâŠ.
However, what counts the most to a blogger is her â„audienceâ„. Thatâs a different perspective altogether. We want to make a difference. A small one to a single person is enough. Enough to feel that a love affair with language can be used to touch someone elseâs heart or produce a smile.
And who doesnât need a smile in their day?
Blogging is not great literature. I can start sentences with âAndâ, âButâ, and any foolish sentence fragment I prefer because The Blogging Fairy said I could. Bloggers prefer to write the way they chat and daughters earning degrees in Communications should not fall all to pieces when a sentence begins with âBecauseâ and ends with âI said soâ.
Bloggers do, occasionally, leave their laptops with a babysitter and go off on wild tangents in order to acquire new âzestâ for writing. Some people call it writerâs block. I prefer the term, âprocrastination fascinationâ. If you see me deep cleaning the basement because I wanted to find a photo from 1983 that was in an album in a box behind the Christmas decorations and the discarded nightstands that need to go to Goodwill (even if I stood on one to reach the rafters where some old flowerpots were housing seashells) itâs safe to assume that I wonât be resurfacing for a while. And your blog is going to be late this week. Sorry.
Jolie, you have a great way of expressing feelings, concerns, complaints or whatever. I usually have a smile before I’m very far down your blog. Great work. Thanks!
Mission accomplished! There are a great many things in life that aren’t funny…till you apply a little time and then turn it on it’s head. Granted, some things require, like, thirty years first, but still, if you could laugh instead of cry…why not?
I never blog. But I love to read what other people blog, if I see it, as I am not on facebook. My generation talked in person or called on the phone. However I would rather blog, if I did, then text. I do text because if I didn’t I could never get in touch with people as most people will respond more to a text than a phone call. I like to hear people voices. However in your blogs I can “hear” you as you express your self in a way that is personal. That I like. It took me a while to get the hang of e-mailing and now I e-mail. And now I text. Maybe one day I will start blogging. Until then I will just “listen” to your blogging.
Thank you! I do try to stay true to my voice, and hopefully, you could read something I wrote and be able to identify that I wrote it; like picking up the phone and hearing my voice and recognizing me before I told you “It’s Jolie!”. Texting will never accomplish that. Hence, emoticons. Sitting down together over tea is still my favorite form of communication!
I always enjoy your posts!
I’m so glad! I love to write, but if I’m not blocked from within, I’m usually accosted from without. Child #5 is, this very moment, playing the keyboard on “drum mode”. Loudly. My occupation is about to become a contact sport.
I love your stories but don’t always leave a comment. You are right up there with Erma Bombeck in by book!
What a lovely comment. I feel extra-buttered because Erma is one of my favorites. And Dave Barry. But he never understood washing dishes. That’s okay. I don’t mow lawns, so we’re even.
Great writing is allowed to use “and” and “but” at the start of sentences too.
See for example https://itre.cis.upenn.edu/~myl/languagelog/archives/002224.html.
(I always look at Language Log when I want to ignore a language rule. And it works, too. Not only do they tell me I don’t need to worry about the rule, but they usually tell me that the rule was made up, has never had any basis, and has not been observed throughout history [copious examples follow…]).
Love it! Another rule was to always reply to my commentaries and then I thought, “Wait, that’s a rule? Is it rude to do all the talking here and then, when someone has a thought and bothers to write it down, I have to keep talking? Must I always have the last word?” Because believe you me, and you, Jon, will…there’s enough of that over here already. đ
Thanks for your blog! đ I enjoy reading them! đ Sometimes I just put a happy face to let you know you got a smile out of me! đ
Yes, I can count on you for buttery goodness! Thank you!
Why is it that even the stuff we love…. Can suck us dry…..you got this get back in that closet and write!
Isn’t that the way of everything once in a while? In my case, I simply added enough tea to float the Queen Mum’s boat, and I was off and writing again. A little jittery. But the Queen would’ve been proud. đ