Sometimes I wonder what I am doing, here. I know, I know, tedious: “BLOGGER SEIZED WITH SELF-DOUBT AND ENNUI, WONDERS WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT, ANYWAY.” Oldest story in the book, if the book goes back no further than the advent of the Internet. Really, though—I’ve gotten so busy that I no longer have the time to say much of anything, or rather I keep putting off the posts I want to write, saving them for some unlikely future when I have “more time.” It’s a sort of low-reaching perfectionism, I suppose.
Sometimes I have trouble remembering how this used to work. What is this space? What is it for?
I hesitate to bring up the increasing focus on “monetizing” in the online world, because posts decrying it have become almost as ubiquitous as posts celebrating and dissecting it, and the whole “too punk rock for fiscal concern” stance strikes me as rather adolescent. I have ads, and I don’t see anything the matter with that. At some point it seemed actively wasteful not to have them, considering the slender silhouette of my bank balance these days. But if I am honest, I’ll admit that I find it a little bewildering, the “monetizing” (NOT A WORD!) and the business-y business blogging has become. I love that so many people are newly able to make money doing what they love. I understand the concept of personal branding, and if the term makes my skin crawl a little, well, I am well aware that it is something people have been doing for a long, long time, almost forever, even. Maybe less purposefully and necessarily less effectively, in smaller ways or with narrower influence, but there’s nothing new under the sun, is there? I do think that the heightened self-consciousness this brings can be complicated. I’m not trying to be an Internet Luddite, I just feel a bit of vertigo once in a while. I miss…something.
Like I said, sometimes I wonder what I am doing, here. I seldom write posts that are self-contained, that stand on their own as stories or essays, that have structure and purpose. This isn’t even much of an online diary anymore, given how poorly tended and public it has become. I’m not inspired to optimize or leverage or explore the leveraging of optimization.
I’m not going anywhere—this isn’t a Quitting Blogging Post. I’ll be back tomorrow, whining about packing or some such. This is just a Musing About Things Post. A What Next? Post. A Time For A Snack! Post.
Speaking of which, it is late. Scott and I have had a lovely weekend, just us two. This morning, I am told that Simone finally noticed we were gone. At least, she asked after her father. “Daddy?” she said, signing in a puzzled, expectant way. No mention of Mama, the little rat.
{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
I think twitter and facebook have if not killed blogging, then certainly “struck it full sore” as the many knights and dragons books I’ve been reading with my boy lately would put it. A lot of the back and forth and friendship building that used to happen in the comments, and that made blogs a place of community, is happening elsewhere these days and that takes a certain…something…out of the blog.
Part of what’s wonderful for me about blogs is the ongoing story of a life – it’s like getting an issue of Brevity every single day. But eventually people tire of telling the story, or the story resolves itself, or becomes something else. Totally natural. People move on. BUT. It’s hard to find the new blogger now, the one just starting the story. There’s not a lot of “link love” (never liked the term, but I think everyone’ll get it) on blogs anymore (links work: you linked to irretrievably broken, and now I read it). There is a … something… missing from the blog world. A lot of the conversations that used to happen here are happening elsewhere (return full circle to first sentence).
So glad to hear you had a wonderful get away, just the grown-ups. Makes a world of difference, doesn’t it?
I think tunafish is called for.
and that is why we love you so much.
I’m just glad that you are here when you have time. My first daughter was born at United and Children’s in St. Paul twelve years ago. I recently lost a baby at 24 weeks. Something in your story speaks to me…and I feel happy when I read your blog. Oddly…you don’t bug me like so many people do. You’re younger than I, but you have a lot of wisdom and sarcasm to share. Thanks for being you!!
I know that this wasn’t a “quitting blogging” post, but I would just like to throw my 2 cents in to say, don’t quit, keep up the great work! And actually I would disagree that your posts do not “stand alone,” I think that many of them do. I am STILL chuckling over your post on how Simone thinks the dog is calling her :) .
For me, I tend to subscribe to those blogs which are more like…essays or stand-alone stories, rather than *just* little blurbs, if that makes sense. (Though there’s nothing wrong with blurbs per se). But then again, I am somewhat of a literary nerd, so you probably shouldn’t just rely on me as a main demographic in this twitter/instant-messaging-crazed modern world, that the kids keep talking about ;) .
You’re my model and my inspiration, not to mention the wind beneath my wings. There are so many of these online collections of personal essays these days; however, yours still stands head and shoulders above the vast majority. I would imagine the sheer fatigue of post-book-dom might make this feel a little less urgent–you’ll get your sea legs back, though. Swivet not.
I read your blog every day and am anxiously (sp?)awaiting your book, if it gets to Canada. Never comment but enjoy your writing.
Yours is the first blog I ever read. I didn’t even know what a blog was. I was pregnant w/ my second child, googled a pregnancy term and your blog was one of the first things to come up. I clicked on it, started reading, and never stopped. I have a friend who doesn’t understand my “blog hobby”. I plan to buy 2 copies of your book: one for me and one for her. I think after she reads it she’ll understand why I continue to come back to your blog.
It’s hard to write for free once you’re getting paid for it. I know this is true for so many of us. I’ve been a completely half-assed blogger because magazine writing is my job and why give up my free time to do more of what qualifies officially as work?
I’ll be sad to read fewer posts here if that what happens, but I get it, and I’ll just look forward to reading you elsewhere, if less immediately.
Alexa, I just finished reading your piece in Parade Magazine and was moved to tears. Raw and touching. What a beautiful story – what a beautiful family. I’m about to share it with others and will no doubt have sold a few more copies of “Half Baked” ! Thank you.
Jessie Griffith-Parker
Alexa,
Hi! Remember me? Your friend & colleague that plowed you down in the Thomson parking lot just days after you bought your new car, & our many chats about issues rolled into becoming mothers? I’m still very sorry about the car situation! I am so happy to see you are well. Congrats on finally becoming a mother, & a published author! Simone is beautiful! I plan on running to the book store to read your book.
Hope to hear from you.
Stephanie