Catharsis

I’ve thought about sooo many things and didn’t write about them. I have so many perspectives and opinions that I want to express that I am passionate about, but I have pretty much held my tongue since, oh, 2007. See, I started blogging in 1999, then I opened my own site say, November of 2002 and I blogged pretty steady until the middle of 2006…

Then some things in my life changed and my mind changed and I began to look at my sites progress critically against the progress of those who started blogging about the same time as I did and I realized something: While their hits and followers continued to climb up and up, mine either declined or flat-lined. And perhaps most importantly, I didn’t feel heard.

So in May of 2006, I took my first long hiatus from blogging. I sat back and watched my peers and good friends (namely thejlv.com and kisschanel.com) and eventually tried to make a strong come back… I changed from Bam to Amber, designed a crisper layout and blogged consistently 3 times a week for 7 months solid. I changed my tone to the poppy, always happy, motivational tone I noticed in other bloggers who had lots of followers. I even polled my audience to find out why they did or did not read or comment, and adjusted accordingly…

…Then, I stopped again.

Because not only was I still not heard, but this time, I wasn’t even myself. I was the “self” that people wanted which is so far from who I really am that I just decided maybe writing wasn’t for me anymore and I needed to figure out where my true passions were. Writing couldn’t be it.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I had, (have?) some consistent readers. People would occasionally get into my comments section and tell me, “hey, you are an outstanding writer,” or spark some sense of debate on my topic that week. There were even times, while on hiatus, that I would get emails from people who followed my site and were disappointed I had gone missing, (again), and wondered if I would consider writing for them or somewhere else… But despite these few queries, for the most part I still felt unnoticed. I felt like my words didn’t belong anywhere.

During my blogs lifetime, I’ve started and scrapped 6 book ideas. I figured if I couldn’t hold the attention of the internet, no way could I hold the attention of a far more invested reader. It seemed to me that my one true love, (writing) had very little love for me.

My silence lasted about a month before I began blogging anonymously at another site. It was a place where it was about me and saying what I wanted and not about readers or comments, (which it seems are the only true measures of a blogs success these days). It wasn’t about success. It was about Love, and about the self I had extracted from my writing for the last several years, being set free to write again. I wrote there for almost a year consistently, then reopened my blog here.

Posted once.

And again fell silent.

I don’t completely know why this time. My first blog was decent; it came from the part of me that writers should write from and garnered a decent sized audience, but I didn’t follow up. I’ve started a great many posts for this blog, but scrapped those ideas too. This last week though, I’ve realized something.

I love to write.
I have plenty very relevant and important things to say.
And I really can’t gauge my success as a writer on the comments or opinions of others…

Mostly because: I am an anomaly. My perspectives are not those of the masses. I couldn’t care less that Al Gore is divorcing Tipper. My preference in music is unconventional and I am disappointed in the nonsense that the radio spews [for real T-Pain? Make Up Bag?]. I watch television twice a week, [The Boondocks and House]. I read 3 or 4 books a month. I find that Nicole’s Bitching is in large part irrelevant to my existence and thus I no longer expect to garner the level (or kind) of response that she does.

And I am finally okay with that…

Not only that, I really believe it is worth it now, more than ever, to give every ounce of myself to this thing that brings me joy because I live in a world (as most of us do) where most of what I do is because I have to. It brings me no mental stimulation, no sense of completion, no added value. All it brings is melancholy and a paycheck.

And I don’t care what anyone tells you:
Money is never, ever enough.

So, I’m back and will be consistently, although I have many a kink to work out about blogging in this new age and being conscious of my web presense. And while your comments are welcome, they aren’t the linchpin upon which my future blogs will depend.

I am a writer.
And I do this for me.

Tagged as: life, writing