New Blog, Who Dis
Jun. 18th, 2021 11:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kadooreI've long wailed in earnest about the void that LiveJournal left in the digital landscape. Oh sure, I created another Dreamwidth journal immediately, but the dearth of interactions - even if the remaining few that remained were still worth it - made it hard to keep up.
A few days missed became a few months became a few years, and how can you come back from that? "Oh hi it's me and here's three whole years worth of thoughts." Maybe for the better, I never wrote those epic-length entries.
On the flip side, I thought having a blog on my professional website would fill that void. But instead of having the problem of distilling years of content down to a few paragraphs, I had the opposite problem: what would be worth writing about for folks who'd come there for my books? Even though they'd clearly come to my space seeking my words, I couldn't get past the idea that those words must be worth something. They must carry weight.
But here we meet at an inbetween, a liminal space that could become anything. No past to catch up on, no expectations to meet. If you follow me, you could get anything: my life, pictures of chickens, thoughts about sunrises or the discourse tourjour, experimental bits, wailings about the publishing industry, tidbits from whatever I'm working on -
In short, me.
So hi. How are you? Shall we try this out, one more time?
A few days missed became a few months became a few years, and how can you come back from that? "Oh hi it's me and here's three whole years worth of thoughts." Maybe for the better, I never wrote those epic-length entries.
On the flip side, I thought having a blog on my professional website would fill that void. But instead of having the problem of distilling years of content down to a few paragraphs, I had the opposite problem: what would be worth writing about for folks who'd come there for my books? Even though they'd clearly come to my space seeking my words, I couldn't get past the idea that those words must be worth something. They must carry weight.
But here we meet at an inbetween, a liminal space that could become anything. No past to catch up on, no expectations to meet. If you follow me, you could get anything: my life, pictures of chickens, thoughts about sunrises or the discourse tourjour, experimental bits, wailings about the publishing industry, tidbits from whatever I'm working on -
In short, me.
So hi. How are you? Shall we try this out, one more time?
