Why do I blog? I ask myself that question every time I start to write a new post. Initially, I did it on a whim. I knew a couple other writers who blogged and I thought, Why not? <sigh> I do spontaneous crazy things like that all too often.
I decided right away that I would keep my blog focused on writing. Unfortunately, that eliminated posts on most of the topics that float through my mind. I started off being all serious because … well, I’m just deep like that. I’ve slipped from my oh-so-proper pedestal a few times. One Friday night, I threw a party and skewed my stats forever after. (Until, that is, Oprah selects my novel for her book club and 10,000 people a day rush here to read my brilliant expositions.)
Some consider blogging to be an expression of vanity. Not so, say I. Speaking through a blog seems to be a natural for hermits like me. (I do not use that term light, people. You have no idea.) It’s sort of like the confessional. If I can’t see your face, I can talk to you.
If I can’t see your face or hear your voice, I can talk to you. (I’m lousy on the phone, too.) Of course, in reality, I never figured more than a couple friends and relatives would ever read my posts anyway. So, why not? Somebody has to do it.
Back to the hermit thing … blogging gives me a sense of talking to several people every day. I go visit them; they come visit me. Look! I’m a social butterfly! (Get that net away from me.)
I’m sure you have far better reasons for blogging than I do, so tell me, please. Inquiring minds and all that jazz.