I’m Blogging This all Wrong!

So, as I have pointed out in the past, I am always one step behind the rest of the civilized world in terms of fads, styles, and “what’s hot.”  I am still not entirely sure what an iPad is, let alone an iPad2 or an iPad3.  That being said, it turns out that no one let me in on the secret that I am supposed to be blogging in order to build an audience and someday sign a book deal.  Hell, I thought blogging was just an online way of keeping a diary.  Honestly, while I know all of this is open to public view, I hadn’t given much thought to having a following.  That is until I discovered I have seven, yes, seven followers.  There are seven people in this world whom I have never met and yet have an interest in what I scribble here.  It makes me worry that I should focus a little more on my grammar.

Not only should I be working on penning a book deal, but I should have a dedicated focus, rather than just babbling on and on about whatever crosses my mind on an overcast Saturday.  I suppose my title, 30 Years and Counting, suggests I should be focusing on my life from this moment forward, but what if I feel like discussing the past, as I plan on doing right now?

The thing I find interesting about my discovery regarding blogging is that not so long ago, I had indeed given thoughts to publishing, well, something.  About five years ago, I gave myself the goal of being published by age 30.  As it turns out, it’s a lot harder to be published than you might think, and when your draft doesn’t make it past the smirks of your best friends, humility prevents you from taking it any farther than a spiral bound copy from Staples that now lives somewhere buried in a closet, possibly beneath an old baseball glove. That was the last attempt I made at published writing, however, I have always been a writer, even during my youth.  I don’t mean a writer in a published sense of course.  You know, like where you get paid.  No, I have always just written for myself.  Way back when, I was given an assignment to keep a journal.  I was probably eight years old.  While the other students could barely form sentences, I was filling out pages and pages of those old black and white composition books.

Long after the assignment was finished, I continued writing.  I would sit in my bedroom and scratch out the details of my life as an eight year old.  I actually continued with it until sometime into middle school, that age where worrying about what others may think about you supersedes the psychological benefits of getting your thoughts down on paper.  The notebook was hidden away and eventually destroyed.  I don’t mean it burned in an unfortunate house fire or that I tore it up page by page, rather I tossed it in the garbage one afternoon.  Now I suppose it is entirely possible some garbage hunting vagabond discovered my personal treasure and could be holding onto it, waiting for the day I become an international celebrity so that he can reveal, for quite a hefty sum of money, my inner most private thoughts as an eight year old.  Then again, I am left handed with bad penmanship.  It’s doubtful it was even legible.

Years went by before I decided to once again chronicle my thoughts.  I heard about a number of sites that offered free online journals, so I would poke around on them, making up user names and usually writing an about me page followed by nothing of any interest.  Was my life really that drab, or was it just writers block?  In any case, I hadn’t given much thought to the idea that anyone else would read what I wrote, nor would they be interested enough to comment on it.  While I still harbor my feelings for privacy, I am aware that these entries can be seen by anyone who wants to see it, but until I saw I had followers, I doubted anyone had ever stumbled across this page.  It makes me wonder how private I really want to be?

I am a very quiet person by nature.  I use blogging as an outlet for my thoughts on what I do throughout my life.  For me, blogging began as a way to improve my Spanish. I only added this page when I discovered that sometimes I needed to vent in English.  It took me entirely by surprise when a total stranger commented on what I had to say.  Sure, now that the seed has been planted in the back of my mind, I feel like I am writing to an audience rather than to myself and I start to wonder, “Should I pull that draft out of my closet and revise it?”

For now, I think I will just continue to put my thoughts down and see where it goes.  But, if you’re out there reading this and it makes you smile or brings back a memory of your childhood, or even pisses you off enough that you want to send me an angry comment, feel free.  It’s nice to know there are people out there.


~ by James on March 17, 2012.

3 Responses to “I’m Blogging This all Wrong!”

  1. Just keep doing what you’re doing.
    It’s your blog and although we read and enjoy, it is still yours!
    Have fun!

  2. Indeed you have some readers on your blog 🙂 Two days ago, I thought it was a long time you haven’t written anything on this blog, and I wanted to send a message to know why! (So keep writing James, I like reading your english blog!!) And precisely yesterday I saw you had written something new, and also today, I was happy to read you again!
    So two questions : why do you write on a blog and not just on a notebook? and why some people like reading your articles?
    I suppose you like the idea some people read you, because the fact of being read makes you exist more, makes your life more real, don’t you think? I mean, even if we can feel existing alone in a wood, because of all the sensations caused by the wind, the smell and the sounds of the nature, we used to feel existing more when we’re existing for someone, don’t we? More present we are for people, stronger our impression of existing is. What about a person living alone during his all life, without any contact, without seeing anybody? She only has existed for her, and for anyone else… isn’t that strange?
    Plus writting to be read makes your text more important, gives it more sense. It has been written, and will be read!
    And when people start to expect another text of you, you’re not only existing for them, but you’re existence is getting important for them! More or less, but it’s still something!
    Before, the only way of being so diffused among people was being published. Now with Internet it’s easier and easier to be read by still more people around the world! While writting a book is a bit more complicated, and publish it even more!
    And now, why some people are following your blog and reading your article? Maybe because they have the impression you’re not writting only for yourself, but also a little for them, and as they appreciate you, and think there could be friend with you if they lived in your city, seing there is a new article on the blog is like receiving a mail of a person you like, it’s always nice. Why? I’d say… because it gives you the impression of existing for her!!
    I suppose there is a new kind of relationship which appears with the blogs…
    What do you think about that?
    Ciao ciao!
    ps : I also thought about writting again on my blog… I left it, because I wanted to live my life in a more real way… But maybe writting on a blog is as real as a discussion with someone in the flesh! It’s writting about oneself and the life, which are things well-real, after all!

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