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I feel the need to share a secret: I hate blogging.
I should probably not be telling you this. After all, it is written in the writer’s Ten Commandments: “Thou shalt have a blog.” Look it up; it’s right in between “Thou shalt not abuse adverbs” and “All of thy speech tags shall be called ‘said’.”
Blogging, so it is writ, is one of the best ways for an author to gain fans and influence people. Write a blog and you can razzle-dazzle ‘em with your writing acumen, your rapier wit, and your broad encyclopedic knowledge of farm animals and the like.
So blogging is on my should list. Only, each and every time I sit to write my little blog ditty, I begin to bite my fingernails to nubs. Maybe hate is the wrong word. It would be more accurate to say I dread blogging. I dread it because most of the time I haven’t a clue what to blog about.
I write fiction. Writing fiction is easy because I get to make stuff up. Blogging is hard because blogs are supposed to be garnered from real life. My real life is about as interesting as watching grass grow. I mean, sure, I have my moments. Just last week I found a quarter on the sidewalk in front of the grocery store. And yesterday, a missing sock was mysteriously found attached to the bed sheet.
But, most of the time, my life isn’t that interesting. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer my intense dramas to be imaginary and on the page. Life is much easier if you’re not living inside a Lifetime movie of the week. It makes for tough going if you’re trying to come up with a blog topic, though.
I will no doubt continue to slog forth on my blogging journey, continue to try and find interesting topics that will wow my blog visitors. Next week, I’m planning a blog on how finding change on the sidewalk can add up to cup a coffee in no time. Hope you’ll stop by!