I started this blog post Sunday and then promptly fell asleep soon after. You’ll understand as you read 🙂
My house is quiet. There is nothing but the sound of the dryer running and my fingers tapping away on the keyboard. It’s pretty blissful. I think that’s what writers want. To hear the sounds of the keys on the keyboard, or the scratching sound their pencils make on paper that rustles as you turn from page to page.
I’ll be quite honest, I’ve sat here and wondered if I should keep writing. That’s a tough thing for a writer to say. I blame being sick for multiple weeks and not writing — and frankly, not having anything to say — for this thought process. This life of writing is a very solitary one and for an introvert like me, it’s how I get things out. It’s how I get things out into the world and share them.
But it’s hard when you’re a writer and feel like there is no one reading.
Maybe it’s because I write what I want to write about. If it’s an essay on life, like this, I share it. If it’s things I’m passionate about, or a product I love, I write about it. I take the odd sponsored post from time to time, because that pays the bills for my server and domain renewal.
My friend Carissa recently wrote about going through her blog to see how much was sponsored content and how much was real writing. As I write this, I know my friend is probably taking her ritual Sunday afternoon nap. I know that because I’m friends with her, but she may have also written about it as well. What stuck with me was “Write more often for you and less –yet BETTER sponsored content.”
She was spot on. When I write sponsored content, I weave it into a story that relates to my life. Something that has truly happened, but that doesn’t sound like an advertisement. If it’s a product, it’s something I truly do enjoy and love. Shilling things for the sake for frees stuff has no appeal for me. Although, if Williams Sonoma were to offer to redo my entire kitchen, or Canon was offering me new lenses, I’d be writing about it for years to come. You’d all hate me.
I think it’s about letting my muse out. I let her out when I’m working on my book, or writing in my journal, but it’s been a long time since I’ve let her out here like I should. Why is that? Fear, mainly. You know, that whole Fear of Failure thing I write about over at Medium on occasion. Even though I’ve broken it down into very simple terms, I still struggle.
In layman’s terms, I’m still finding my voice. I have it and I use it. And when I channel it, it’s beautiful. A friend once gave me the highest compliment you could a writer like me and told me I was her “Judy Blume.” Yet, I let my writing lay fallow out of fear. I’m guessing this is what this whole long drawn out thing is about. Not only am I still finding my voice, I’m afraid to use it.
That’s it in a nutshell. Maybe all of this is because I’ve been sick for three weeks and had too much time to think. Or maybe I’ve not done enough thinking. *shrugs shoulders* This is life. As Doris Day once sang “que sera sera.” What will be, will be.