And here you go, my new blog. I have another one on another blog site. A site I can’t seem to access due to an inability to log into my account. It’s flyingafargo.blogspot.ca (in case you were interested and wanted to see that yes, indeed, I have done this before even if it was rather unsuccessful), and I had made quite a few posts. Some I really liked. And now, I have to start again. I’ll probably start cutting and pasting or linking to those blogs, when I figure out how to do that. The problem is, when you take someone like me (completely technologically useless) and start over on a new blog, try to get followers (not that I had many before, I think I had about, oh, 6?) and try to make it interesting, it usually ends up being a rather half-assed attempt at something that no one really wants to read. Because I have no idea what I’m doing, nor do I know how to get noticed or followers. And isn’t that why everyone writes a blog? To get noticed?
Lets be honest, if I was just doing this for myself, I would continue to write in my journal. But it’s not just for me. Wait a minute, okay, it is technically for me in that the outcome is pretty selfish. To get read, noticed, known, and hopefully build some kind of career. So, yes, this is for me. But the writing is for you. For someone else to read. To read and love and share and all of a sudden, poof! You’re some famous blogger everyone is reading and living the glam life of a writer. Isn’t that the entire point of this?
I know there are professional bloggers out there. I have no idea what happened to get them there as the internet is some magical place of connections and links and ads and all kinds of stuff I don’t know. I’m just hoping some of that magic happens to fall over here, gets my name out there so when I send my book to an agent they’ll say, “Ooh! Look at her blog! Isn’t it great? It’s about life and writing and flying and all that other neat stuff everyone loves to read. Of course I’ll take her on!” Then out comes my book, it sells millions of copies, and just like that, I’m the next J.K. Rowling.
Isn’t that the whole point? Isn’t that the dream? Something like that? If not, I have no idea why I’m doing this. I can’t see how my life is all that interesting. It’s probably the same as most everybody else’s. I struggle, fight with my kids, clean up cat shit, am always late, say the wrong things, order takeout in lieu of cooking, and try to look presentable while doing it. What makes that anything anyone wants to read? I have no idea. But I’m hoping there’s something in here, a little glimmer of whatever I have, that will make you like this.
No, I’m not going to have inspirational talks. This isn’t going to be the life and times of a stay-at-home-mother (even if right now I’m writing from home and I am a mother). Don’t we have enough of those? All I can say about this blog is that I’m just going to be honest. As I have been already. I am here, trying to make a go of it (maybe also procrastinating in that I should really just be finishing my own book), and writing this blog because I felt a little compelled and also just figured I should. Writers write blogs, don’t they? And if I want to call myself a writer, I guess I should join the throngs of bloggers out there, tapping away at the keyboards, hoping they get noticed.
So that’s it. That’s my very first, new posting to my new blog because I can’t seem to post on my old one. I hope you liked it. I hope you were happy to have just wasted your last five minutes on this. I promise to do my best not to waste your time.
And now to work on my book….or format this blog. Either one I’m sure will be very useful and productive…