I’ve been thinking about the purpose and direction of this blog lately. When I started this, I was in the early stages of writing my novel The Brevity of Roses, and blogging became a way to journal my progress. After the novel was written I moved on to blogging about editing and editing and editing, which progressed to querying, querying, querying, and finally to self-publishing. So now what?
For the last several months, I’ve been on a roller coaster of indecision not only about what to work on next, but whether I should write anything more at all. I’ve decided both now. I can’t quit writing—I’ve had migraines the last two days and still managed to get 1,200 words written. And I know which novel needs to be on the front burner, but I think it’s too early to talk about that book much, so that leaves me floundering blogwise.

I keep promising myself—and you—that I’ll write posts of substance, but I don’t. I’m not confident in giving writing advice, partly because I’m not a teacher, but mostly because I still have much to learn myself. I can’t tell you how to write a winning query letter, scintillating synopsis, or can’t fail cover blurb because I don’t know how. I can’t give you book promotion and marketing advice because I’m even less qualified in that.
I’m just a woman—wife, mother, and grandmother—who sits here at this computer hour after hour struggling to transform my imagination into words. I lead a boring life. The most exciting thing I’ve done in the last week was set up a Pinterest account. Oh yes, and I had to wash off the butt of an aging poodle with digestive problems. (See the kind of stuff I’m likely to say here?)
Maybe I should ask you for ideas. But then, if you have an idea you’d blog about it yourself, wouldn’t you? I wrote a post once volunteering to answer any question you asked me, but that was not one of my more successful posts. The always-guaranteed-to-spark-discussion topics of politics and religion are out, and I’m a lousy book and movie critic. So what does that leave me to talk about?
I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. I hear blogging is dead, so I don’t expect many people actually read my posts. Maybe I’m off the hook. I can just talk to myself here and no one will be the wiser. Years from now, when I’m a famous author, I’ll be able to publish my blog posts as a memoir—or something. ROTFLMAO