So hey, there are some images in this post. If you’re reading this in email, you’re going to want to download them or else this rambling post will make even less sense.
I can’t find my blogging mojo. I’ve lost that blogging feeling. Blogging don’t live here anymore.
Okay, maybe it’s not quite that bad. After all, I have been underwater the last couple of months. No, not to-do list underwater, this underwater…
This is my daughter refusing to come up. I don’t blame you, kid.
I’ve made an effort to stop by my dusty old site from time to time this summer when there was a good reason to such as Blogust, which helped Shot @ Life provide free vaccines to children in the developing world. And I’ve felt compelled to blog about AT&T’s It Can Wait program, which I eagerly signed on to because I believe so strongly in the message. But other than the occasional cause or sponsored challenge – trying to break a flashlight for Rayovac was kind of fun – I’ve really had a tough time coming here to write.
It’s not that I haven’t been blogging anywhere. In fact, in July I started writing a few times a month at Babble where I get to do fun things like pretend it’s my job to reimagine attractions at Walt Disney World with a Star Wars theme. Tossing the Astro Orbiter out the window and installing Stormtrooper Speeder Bikes above Tomorrowland is a good time, even if it is all just make believe.
So why do I feel inspired to write over at Babble and can barely bring myself to post here?
I know that what’s holding me back is the feeling that no one is reading.
This isn’t necessarily a new feeling. In fact, a while back I bought WritingInAVacuum.com because, quite frankly, that’s what it feels like at times.
No, not this vacuum —–>
<—— This vacuum.
There have been some posts over the last few years that I’ve really been proud of. I know this is a bit like when you walk past a mirror, catch a glimpse of yourself, and think hey, these jeans really do make my butt look great, but I do believe I’ve had some funny and even moving posts (don’t miss comment #46). And I have so much more to say. I’d like to tell you the story of my husband coming back from the brink of death or why my belly button looks an awful lot like Grumpy Cat, but I just can’t find the motivation to tell these tales when it truly feels like the only people reading are a couple friends in a Skype room, my husband, and occasionally my mother, all people who quite frankly hear enough from me already.
I’ve sat in blog conferences and listened to successful bloggers tout the benefits of writing timely posts that will be found through Google searches, but the readers who come here from Google searches usually a.) leave a nasty comment about not finding exactly what they were looking for and b.) leave immediately. Bringing people to a site for a reason other than reading the content means that the content won’t be read. In fact, if you’re a frequent Twitter Party attendee who stops by to RSVP for events, chances are that you didn’t even make it far enough along in this post to refute my point.
And I get it, certain topics are hot right now and Pinterest drives traffic like nobody’s business, but I want to write. I want to tell stories. I don’t want to post pictures of cardboard pumpkins shellacked onto mason jars because it’s September and that’s what people want.
So that’s where I’m at, walking around with posts on my mind, not sure what to do with them anymore. Is it time to admit that my writing isn’t the kind of genius that only the lovechild of The Bloggess and David Sedaris would create? Should I grab my grandmother’s recipes and my SLR and join the cult of Pinterest? Do I admit that if blogging was about readership, I’d have hung it up years ago and just carry on?