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Writer's Blog

It crossed my mind when I launched this blog, but I ruled it out as a possibility, because surely thoughts are a renewable resource. I just figured I'd need to be more selective, become a better editor. I spent a week mulling over what to do about the fact that this blog has no point. Then I thought about the fact I'd never be able to poke fun at the people in my life again, since they now make up the majority of people reading this. That worried me. The key to my humour may be the people in my life, and I worry that this makes me sound fickle or callous. I worry about why the fonts keep changing when I post. I also wonder if it's tacky to promote the movie I'm in this Friday at the Royal Theatre at 9pm. I worry that "the movie I'm in" sounds self-important, especially since it's such a little part. I hate it when people refer to something as "theirs", like, "I'll have to talk to MY writer". I wonder if saying it's only a little part sounds falsely modest. Or worse, ungrateful. I really loved this little part. And I worry about appearances and about how all of this must sound, since I'm actually not worrying about much anymore at all. I think life moves much more smoothly when you stop. Worrying, I mean. I've tried worrying. I like not worrying better. But, cold turkey's no fun, so I maintain a little worry just to remind me of the old days, and also to keep real worries, the important stuff, safely at bay. So, I worry a little that maybe my ex-boyfriend's stumbled across this blog and that he's read a line I wrote about him way back, after the first time we broke up, and I wonder if I should erase it, since I'm still deeply in love with him, and I'd sort of like him to know that, even though I know we probably shouldn't be together. And, then I worry that maybe the wrong ex-boyfriend is going to read this, and then I console myself with the fact that, let's be honest, there aren't very many ex-boyfriends, so the likelihood of a) their reading it or b) their mistaking one for the other is probably quite slim. Still, I worry that I'm going to bump into him-- either one of them, really -- on the street while he is/they are with some stunning girl and I'm in my gym clothes. Again. 

And all this worry to stave off the fact that I appear to have stopped having thoughts that anybody will care about. And I am concerned that this is a blogger's occupational hazard (though, God forbid I should EVER be referred to as a blogger). I formalized blogging, I gave myrself targets to hit -- one, two, three blogs a week -- and now, I have paralyzed my blogging muscle. Ordinarily, when this kind of thing happens, I hit the road. I travel. I have lots of thoughts when I travel. I have lots of thoughts in lots of languages. But, for now, I'm grounded. So, I'm pulling out travel diaries, reading Jack Kerouac in French, picking up every magazine I can get my hands on, reading history tomes, looking at calendars and dreaming about Ethiopia. 

And the problem, I find, with worry, is that it muddles your priorities. It totally slipped my mind, but the first line of this blog post was supposed to be, "skim this".


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don't give up on us now! we're starting to get attached. just trust that your words are effective and thought-provoking and entertaining, and that there are a million trillion blogs we could be reading, but we choose yours. It's because even your 'lost' writing is meaningful to us.
if your ex(es) are/were smart, they would be here/are here, too.

and why DOES your font keep changing??? great question!

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