I had lunch with some smart people today, a couple of whom read my blog. One of them asked me about it, the process of doing it, and we talked about what I've learned by writing it. I mean, specifically, what I've learned about my own blog and my own writing from this endeavor. Because it is a different kind of writing than any other writing I've done, and as I do it I sort of discover that I have some instincts about how I think it should be done that are getting refined along the way. (This happened to me when I was shopping for a sofa, too. I'd never given sofas any thought until I went to the furniture store and discovered, puzzlingly, that I have firm and quite specific ideas about what comprises an acceptable sofa.)
You can probably tell that I write quickly and often in blurts about things that occur to me, as they occur to me. In other words, I don't PLAN this blog, or what I'm going to write. Although I do find that now when I notice something (the tiger lilies just appearing on this morning's walk, for example) I sometimes think about how I will describe it if I were to write about it. Obviously I do lots of other writing that I think about much more deliberately. But there's an instinct and a design that kind of happens on the blog nonetheless. I feel like I am assembling a mosaic out of a whole bunch of found objects. With the found objects being these little observations that make up my days.
Some people write essays and post them on their blog. That becomes a mosaic of a different kind. Some people write the tiniest observations and the blog shines from the commenters. I haven't thought too much about these kinds of blogs. Occasionally I have a lot to say on a topic and those posts become essay-ish. But the fun for me is assembling a sort of hodgepodge of unrelated bits, some (many?) of which may be dull or tangential or out of focus, and nonetheless creating or trying to create a place that has a consistent feel, that has some temporal and subject-matter continuity, that is a kind of narrative without being self-conscious about it, that has a loose consistency of tone or voice without requiring me to self-edit out the thoughts or moods or observations that are outliers.
This is more than I've thought about the process of blogging so far. But as I write it I think it's true, and perhaps that's why as a project or a practice I find it so interesting and instructive.
My rules of blogging:
1) I write what's in my head.
2) I ask myself before I post something if it feels true -- authentic, clear, and genuine. There are some posts here that are clearly incomplete snippets. I think that's why I don't write about my love life much, or very well. I don't want to go there, and the tiny pieces I throw out are necessarily incomplete and perhaps misleading. Maybe everything is. But I try to screen things for basic integrity -- does it paint a picture of what it expresses in a way that's essentially true. I fail sometimes. As I write this I wonder if I ever succeed. Anyway, it's an aspiration of every post -- I don't ever intend to post something that misleads. Because of this general rule I nearly never post something that I worry about anyone seeing. I try really hard not to spin things, and not to post about things I would have to spin, or backpedal about.
2.5) It seems too obvious to post, but I guess it's worth saying explicitly. I write about my my world. These are the things that are true for me. In other words, I don't write posts about other people, their business or their activities. I don't reveal other people's secrets, or really anything about them at all except as it provides a window into something that's part of my story. That's not what this is about. Their stories aren't mine to tell. Obviously.
3) I ask myself why I want to post it. If it's a gripe or complaint done to vent I almost always delete it or save it simply as a draft -- just writing it was enough, it needn't be posted. If I am trying to paint myself in a flattering light or troll for compliments or try to impress somebody, same deal. If I notice myself trying to imagine what my audience -- you -- wants from me and writing that, it's bounced. I try to catch those posts that come from a motive like that and get rid of them. It's part of the genuineness filter, I think. Again, aspirational -- I can think of lots of posts where I've failed.
4) I post it. Without worrying about how it's going to make me look or sound, as long as I've met the above criteria. Without worrying if you're going to stop reading me because I'm boring or unsure or shallow or overly interested in my own dog or the color of the sky.
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