Here we are at the start of a new year, and I've already broken my first resolution: to cease blog posting in favor of spending time on a more substantial writing project. (Which is good news if you're a regular reader and bad news if you're my as-yet-imaginary future novel).
I initially thought it would be a great idea to take a break, partly because, even though I didn't quite manage 100 posts last year, it sometimes felt like a bit of a chore to put my storytelling muscles to work without knowing who exactly (if anyone) was reading and/or appreciating it. I know that sounds lame. I should be writing simply for writing's sake, yes? Putting myself out there, throwing words together with reckless abandon for the sheer joy of communication, sustained only by my personal pride in a job well done (or so I hope).
And yet, no matter what we do, we like to have some way to measure our progress. Not necessarily to determine whether we've been "successful," but at least to know that our efforts are worthwhile. I don't think it's too awfully self-centered to admit that everyone needs a little validation here and there. But how much is enough? Ay, there's the rub. Is it enough if even one person's day is brightened by something ridiculous I decide to type into this glowing box? After all, isn't it a little bit of a miracle that anyone is even remotely interested in something I have to say in the first place?
Yes. Yes, it is. So, I decided to compromise, and I made two new resolutions. First, to get over myself. Second, to post once a week. That way, my storytelling muscles still get a workout, but I can focus the other days on the as-yet-unnamed literary experiment. Sounds simple enough. But then again, so did setting up the wireless printer that I bought my parents for Christmas. And we all know how that turned out.