Somewhere Out There

Posted on | February 18, 2010 | 1 Comment

“I could write a blog. I have thoughts.”

(Amy Adams as Julie Powell in the movie version of Julie & Julia)

Lately, it seems that more and more people are writing about writing and specifically, writing about blogs: Kristen has written about it twice in the last month, Erica recently explored the idea of a blog as an open diary on the kitchen table, and Kim’s trying to convene writers and bloggers in one space. It’s a natural self-reflective thing, but it stands out more now than it ever did before.

I’ve been writing online in one form or another for several years. The first incarnation was a Live Journal account, which in retrospect seems filled with more things mundane and trivial than anything of substance. I made the leap to Blogger in 2008 (I know, I’m a little late to the game) and have been here ever since, first with The Librarian Next Door and now with Ordinary Mer.

There are days and weeks when coming up with engaging, interesting and relevant blog topics feels like pulling teeth – without Novocain. These are the days when blogging (especially blogging on the somewhat random schedule I’ve developed) feels like a chore, an obligation and a burden. I hate when I feel like that since writing has always been an outlet for my emotions, a way of processing thoughts and ideas.

On days like that, sometimes I think it would be easier to stop altogether. I wonder if anyone actually reads this blog. I get irrationally excited at one comment on a post and cling to it as proof of readers, even if it’s only one person. As Kristen said herself on her own blog yesterday, there are times when “I start to doubt why I’m doing this, if it matters, if anyone cares.”

Earlier this week, however, two separate moments gave me that little nudge of encouragement, a little push that said “yes, of course it matters – even if it only matters to you.”

First, my post-Valentine’s Jane Austen quotes post garnered three comments. I know that sounds like bupkis compared to most blogs out there, but for me, it was the first time any of my posts had received more than one or two comments. It might have been small in scale, but it meant something to me. Then, my mother forwarded me an email from a friend of hers, who not only reads Ordinary Mer but apparently likes it quite a bit. This friend even compared me (or, at least, my writing) to Rachel Maddow, which I find an extremely flattering comparison, though one I’m not quite sure I live up to.

I don’t write with the goal of attracting praise or even comments. I’m certainly not doing this with the far-fetched goal of being “famous.” I just write for myself and most of the time, that’s enough. But when the doubts start to creep in, it’s kind of nice to know that my favorite Russian mouse was right – someone is out there. And if that someone thinks that I have something interesting to say, well that’s okay too.

So I’ll keep writing, even when I think I don’t want to, mostly for myself but also because it might just matter to someone else too.

Comments