Blogging motivation: #NaBloPoMo edition

Well, I obviously didn’t blog yesterday, per my NaBloPoMo obligation. (So *shucks* I can’t win any BlogHer prizes. Let’s face it, I didn’t really want them anyway. As much as I like blogging and reading some blogs, I think the BlogHer conference seems like a big sorority party and I’m SO not that kind of girl. Ahem.)

So, I have been feeling more connected to blogging. Writing daily has made it easier to think of things to write about, generally, and I think the process of writing and sharing (and conversing through comments) has been fun and useful. Even though I won’t be able to claim *true* success on #NaBloPoMo since I missed a day, I do think the ultimate purpose of it is still taking hold for me.

It is hardest on the weekend, as I assumed it’d be since I spend little time in front of a computer on Saturdays and Sundays. No big surprise there. I also have hardly any readers on the weekend, which is another blow for my motivation. Did anyone even READ my post Saturday? (Well, 25 of you…) Sunday was this insanely hectic day of going from one thing to the next and doing laundry, cleaning, making dinner in between… I collapsed after Margo went to bed. Anyway, excuses.

It sort of made me think about what my motivation is for doing this daily blogging thing. At many times in my life I’ve been a journaler and it’s been useful in working through stuff I was feeling or going through, but I feel like, only 12 days in, blogging is sort of proving its worth a little.

I like the sharing part. I think my failure to launch yesterday was due in large part to not wanting to blog to no one. I think that’s been part of the issue all along – since I’m so inconsistent I don’t have a strong following.  While I don’t need to be the most popular, branded mommy-blogger in the world, it is nice to have readers and that process sort of reinforces the blogging through comments. And pressure (<- that’s the part I’m less sure about. Never really seeking out added obligations.)

I like the writing freedom as well. I’m a writer by trade, and I don’t have freedom in that. I’m very constricted in the style and topic. I like it, I’m okay with it, but I also have more to give and it’s nice to share that. At times the blank post is maybe TOO free… but like I said, the process of coming up with good topics IS, in fact, becoming easier the more I do it. Just like they said it would!

It’s nice to have my own little space. Even though everyone CAN/COULD do it, not everyone does. And the process makes me have more respect for those of you who do have the branded, professional looking mommy (or otherwise) blogs because HOLY CRAP when do you do it? While I’m not as overwhelmed as I assumed I’d be doing this daily, it’s a commitment.

I’m sorry, I know you were all like “NO POST FROM JAMIE ON SUNDAY!? What every shall we DO?!” Or not. But thanks for sticking with me anyway 🙂


Blog Guilt & A Reimagined Purpose…

THIS is why blogging can be a drag, if I may be frank. I’m doing like 50 thousand things and from time to time I think “Hey, I could blog about this, I have funny/insightful things to say.” But it’s always while I’m running or driving or something. It feels like it doesn’t really fit in with my lifestyle sometimes, and I’m not really willing to give up evening fun (reading, TV, picking up my home – though THAT’S not fun) to cram it in.

But yet, there’s something that keeps me feeling like I want to do this. I am a writer by trade, this is way funner than the writing I do for work so I always find a little bit of something that makes me want to keep it up and go for it (again.) Blogging can be therepeutic, helping me parse events & situations. It can be helpful, with comments pointing me toward solutions I never knew about. There sort of IS a middle ground though, where it feels like you’re blogging for no one, and the unresponsiveness makes it feel not worth the effort.

But whatever, I guess I’m going to do it. Again. I am an inconsistent blogger, at best. It’s just something you should know about me. I’m going to try to be better.

So, I give you my blog repurposing: In the coming 6 months, I’m going to train for a marathon (through the North Carolina summer) while working full time with a 2 year old. That sentence makes me feel slightly insane. But in a “no time like the present” leap, I’m going for it and why not try to rationalize it with a blog to make you all understand my insanity?

A Writer

I am a Writer, did you guys know that? I’ve tweeted here and there about it, but I’m working on a book. It’s for work, so not the Great American Novel or anything like that, but it’s going to be, like, a real, buy-it-on-Amazon book.

So, in the interest of mental and professional practice, I’ve been making an effort to *write* more. Work has been generally good, but with so much reading and outlining (pretty much the EXACT way I was taught to do research in high school, btw), I quickly get glazed over. I mean, it utilizes my mind and I’m learning oh-so-much in doing all of this, but I almost feel like I need to take stretching breaks for my mind or something to make sure it’s continually engaged. I’ve been prone to zoning out, I’m afraid.

And, (hopefully), the writing phase will begin on the book soon and I’ll be frantically busy, needing every moment to be full of good, coherent words that are going toward the end goal: book. My theory is that coming in to work and writing for 10 min here (or on my private work blog I don’t share with anyone cause it’s just a lot of bitching, really) will, to use a ridiculous college drinking euphemism, sort of “break the seal” and get the thoughts flowing to the fingers.

Besides that, writing has always centered me and helped me to move past things that are on my mind… bring on the catharsis.

It’s weird, being a writer. It’s weird because it’s what I’ve pretty much always wanted to be, and now I am one. It’s almost like being an actor or a princess – you can’t just say “Oh, I’m a writer,” without feeling like you have to qualify it somehow. “Oh, I just write technical documents.” “I’m writing a book, but it’s a boring research book, not a novel.” Despite all of those disclaimers, my job is “writer” now. I love it, actually, and having this level of professional fulfillment is something I’m completely unaccustomed to.

I guess I’ll have to find other stuff to complain about.