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I know a lot of bloggers who don't consider themselves writers or journalists. They consider themselves bloggers.
I'm not one of those people. I blog because it's writing, and I love to write. Added bonus: Self-publishing is a heck of a lot faster than the traditional method. And less painful emotionally. And ... I want people to read me. I do. I admit it. Is it vanity? Insecurity? Not sure. Don't care.
I've always been amazed by the amount of writers claiming to be afraid of their readers, or to be afraid of meeting their readers. From my extroverted position, the whole point of publishing is the connection between people, or at least between minds. I could write all I wanted and hide it in a shoebox in my house, but for me although struggling for good art is a goal in and of itself, connection and sharing the words are the ultimate pay-off.
I'll share with you how geeky I really am. I wrote a mission statement for myself when I was graduating from college. It was: "I will make myself and others feel heard." I know, right? I am such a dork. And yet, I share the dorkiness with you, because I really believe this. I believe in order to avoid waking up twenty years down the road forgetting what you set out to do in the first place, you have to record your dreams while you're young enough to still think you can accomplish them. And hopefully, twenty years down the road you'll still believe in yourself enough to keep trying after life has knocked you down a few times.
When I started Surrender, Dorothy four years ago, I wrote stories about my days. My days in those days were filled with baby poop, but they were also filled with self-discovery and new things I'd never done before. They were filled with exhaustion and love and amazement, and also humor. Babies are TOUCHING. People covered in excrement are FUNNY. Not realizing your co-workers are going to read your blog four years in the future is FREEING. The blog was mostly journaling. I didn't have categories. I just metaphorically vomited onto the keyboard several times a week and hit "publish."
As time went on, I started realizing what a great opportunity the blog was to work on other types of narrative nonfiction: political writing, more stand-alone personal essays, social issues and parenting theory. My blog also forced me to improve my skills with writing dialogue, which could come in handy if I ever try a screenplay. It's really hard to write dialogue, and recording actual conversations for the point of blogging them has taught me how people really talk. I find it much easier to write fictional dialogue now than I ever did before.
Craft aside, I also write to discover my feelings, my positions, my roles in this world. My opinions don't solidify completely until I write them out. There is no place for "I think" or "I feel" in tight
sentences: Strunk and White force me to own my opinions. It's scary. It's good practice for being a parent and a citizen.
I try very hard to do no harm, but I go into this writing thing knowing it's impossible to do no harm unless you speak no words. I could talk about how much I only want one child and a woman with ten kids could feel judged. I could talk about how much I hated pregnancy and inspire the ire of the infertile women who want so badly to have a pregnancy they could just die. In the early days, I wasn't aware of those realities. I wrote freely without worrying whom I would offend. Then I got the comments, on this blog and in person, telling me how my words had stung, unintentionally for sure, but still.
I continue to share my perception of my life five days a week. I need to. I need the record and the personal growth it brings.
I know there is an audience. I need there to be an audience. And I need to let that audience have its own opinion, its own perception of me, even if that perception isn't beautiful and perfect. I need to let people disagree with me, think I'm stupid, naive, immature, what have you, without feeling faint. I need to see when the criticism is fair and when it's not. I need to discern whether people are criticizing my writing or criticizing me as a person. I need to determine whether or not I
