I found myself reading yet another blog entry with tips on how to blog effectively. I can never pass those up, which tells me that I continue to be interested in getting people to read my blog. At the same time, I kind of keep my blog a secret from people I know in my actual face-to-face life. Why is that?
Actually, I have given out the URL to maybe four people, all of whom seemed to me to be hip, avid consumers of literature. None of them became readers. I cringe to think of how they may have visited my blog after I gave them the link, read some, then retreated as gracefully as they could, never to mention it again. I like to think they never even looked at it, yet my reasoning for that sort of response has to be that they regard blogs so negatively that they don't bother looking. Either way is a little pathetic.
It seems much more acceptable to Write a Novel. However, judging by the frequency of my blog posts, it would require too much time to finish a novel, and such an endeavor would take me way beyond my death.
Here's the deal. I retired so long ago, now, that I should have completed at least two or three novels. I don't know if I have ADD or what, and I've never been one of those heavy-duty people who can deal with medications--they wouldn't let me into Woodstock... It's a philosophical problem, the journey vs the destination thing.
Recently I stumbled across a bit of family history that made me think we might be descended from Italian nobility. I know. Big deal. Everyone in Italy is the same way. I followed the line down from the Marchese di Squillace, and back from my great-grandfather, but I haven't made those two lines meet. A friend said, just say they do. Who's to know? Who would question it?
So, in honor of the Trump era of post-credibility, yeah, I'm working on a novel. Which, by the way, means anything I do at least up to its completion, no matter how disreputable, is merely research. Upon publishing, the bio on the back cover may mention something about the Marchese, with a picture, as he was a handsome man. We'll see.
I should have finished multiple novels during the years pre-kids and when I stayed at home with kids and had MY OWN MOM HELPING. But I didn't get anything done until I became busier! Weird. Then I fell into the Facebook trap and got derailed for a while with that, but since I gave it up I've been ridiculously productive. I kinda worry that when I retire I'll write LESS than I do now because I'll have too much time. LOL
ReplyDeleteOh, also? I've found that people have way shorter attention spans than ever. So many of my friends hardly even read books these days. Seems like most of the people who read my blog are other bloggers. Some FB peeps came over, but I've lost almost all of them since I quit FB. *shrugs*
ReplyDeleteIt's true! When you retire, suddenly it seems very burdensome and unfair if you have to actually do more than one thing on a particular day. "I have to go to the store AND pick up laundry????" you will say to yourself.
ReplyDeleteSeems like people who like to read are in the minority, I guess because there are so many other options. And Facebook seems to be adapting itself more and more to the short Sesame Street style attention span.
I've given my blog url and name to an infinite number of people in real life. A few read one post, left a comment, and never returned. Apparently paying attention to me is so undesirable that if I dare mention my blog in their presence, they quickly change the topic or look uncomfortable.
ReplyDeleteNaturally I make a point of mentioning it occasionally.
These same people have told me, however, that I need to write a book. It seems that if my words were put together in that way, I'd be acceptable because then I'd be an author who these people could name drop-- thereby giving them a sense of status. I have no illusions that these people would read my book, but I'm sure from their points of view, I'd at least be doing something worthwhile.
And on that cynical note, let me say thanks for visiting and commenting on my blog. I'm glad we've made a connection here in ye olde blogosphere.
Me, too, Ally. Thanks for visiting!! Maybe it's worth trying to figure out why the blog is so distasteful to many. Maybe it needs a new name. But . . . it all reminds me of the time some hippies in San Francisco complained about being called "hippies," that in fact they were simply "free men." Then, of course, the press started referring to them as Freebies, so perhaps we should leave well enough alone.
ReplyDeleteI have a writer friend (published an' everthang!) who said he wrote a lot more when he was working. Retirement has made it a lot harder to get that work done. He's figuring it out, though. Me too. The structure of having a job seemed to tighten up the rest of the day and somehow, more got done. Which is weird, because I do a lot. I better, being as I have the short attention span for it. (I said "do," not "accomplish.")
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