Blogging is a narcissistic act.
To blog is to call undue attention to oneself. "Undue" being the operative word. A blogger and her readers are one big mutual admiration society.
Blogging has created a first draft society -- where anyone can put ideas and opinions out there, unvetted & unedited. Presenting information as if it is worthy of reading and reflection when most of it is idiotic or senseless rambling with no value in terms of public discourse.
As a writer, if I wrote in a journal every day and kept it in my night stand, would that be a more noble, more humble, more appropriate thing to do? A private journal makes no demands on anyone else. There is clearly no motivation to elicit feedback (or attention). I would not be burdening the general public with my mood swings, grammatical errors, pictures of my children or my thoughts on breastfeeding, Burt’s Beeswax lip balm, local politics, and old-school songs from the 1980’s.
Is journaling supposed to be done in private, so as not to show off how silly or stupid or smart or troubled or wonderful you are? Is this type of writing a more pure act, with cleaner motivations, simply because you aren't intentionally sharing it with the whole world. Why?
When I glance back through my archived posts it is apparent to me that I don't have time to be a writer. Maybe someday, but not currently. There is rarely anything posted here that I would hold up as a piece of work that I am really proud of.
With one exception, I've recorded things here about my children that I'm happy with. When I feel stupid about blogging, I hold on to the thought that maybe someday, if I can keep at it long enough, there will be posts I can pull out of archives (among the silly and stupid and pointless things) that will capture how I felt about my wee ones as I watched them grow up. Things I promised myself I'd never forget… So I don't quit.
Even when I feel thisbig about being a blogger.