“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” – Ernest Hemingway
In my last post, I suggested that I’d become a more productive writer as a consequence of gaining a new job. The gist of which is: if I’ve less time to write, I’ll be more focused and procrastinate less.
In many regards I wasn’t wrong. I spend most weekends writing, and every free moment during the week reading, musing over ideas, and tweaking manuscripts. I’ve also had a couple of papers published – one on Twitter communities, the other a co-authored piece about coworking community. And I’ve some papers due for publication very soon – one that is a real landmark paper for me on belonging, and the other a collaborative piece of research using cluster theory. I’ve also joined Writers Victoria and taken a couple of classes.
So all in all the writing is going well. What is suffering though is this blog. So does this mean it is in the procrastination bucket and not the writing bucket? Maybe. It certainly was always something I did at the end of a writing week, probably on a Friday morning, to ‘keep my hand in’ but take my mind into another writing space. It would be easy to jump to this conclusion, but I’ll resist it.
I’ve begun and ended a few blogs over the past ten years or so. All of which were eagerly populated through an initial flurry of excitement, followed by a brief hiatus, an apologetic post about ‘neglect’ and ‘getting back to it soon’, before petering away into the ether never to be read again. So my current ‘failings’ to ‘populate’ this blog could be following a broader trend. This is a hiatus, and one day this blog will end. What I must address is how soon I want it to end.
The answer, I think, lies in its purpose. My previous blogs each served a purpose, that has since expired. Whether it was getting into running, trying my hand at photography, or moving to another continent, my blogs were all about transition. They helped me reflect on and share a shift in my life. I’m still running, taking mediocre pictures, and have settled into life down under, but I’m no longer blogging about them. With this revelation, I should now be concerned – considering myself a writer, was a recent shift. Above, I postulate about having ‘become’ a writer. It would seem the death knell tolls for this blog.
Does it though? Attending those writing classes, and reading what other writers say about the ‘job’, do we ever reach our destination? Do we ever get as ‘good’ at it as we had hoped? Are we in a constant state of becoming? I reckon so. I have not ‘become’ a writer; the job is not yet done. I will have many things to write, and I will never stop learning to improve my craft. This blog has a life for the duration of my narrative odyssey, if I wish it to. The Odyssey is, I think, a fitting allegory for what I am attempting to achieve. I read many other writers’ blogs, and they all tell of toil. Writing is a craft in which we are forever ironing out our imperfections, finding who we truly are. And this is half the fun.
So this blog will continue. It may not have the same impetus as before, but will always aim to say something meaningful to me and hopefully become useful to you.