To Blog or Not to Blog? (My Examination of Motive)

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To Blog or Not to Blog? (My examination of motive)

I might quit blogging. It might be a good thing. A healthy thing.

There have been a variety of reasons for my blogging, across the timeline, but right now there’s no other reason than this: I’ve published a blog post every week since June last year.

That’s not even a reason, though, is it? It’s an observation. But my irrational mind has turned it into a reason:

‘We’re in April! We can’t quit now! What a waste of ten months that would be!’

That makes no sense, I reply. The value of any particular post is not determined by how many come before or after it.

‘Well, at least wait until June before you stop. We have to do this for a year!’

Why a year?

‘Because… it’s …tidy?’

She’s no strategist, my irrational mind.

My reasons for blogging haven’t always been so inane. They’d been reasonable and substantial, before. At the time of my blogger-birth I was living in a different country from most of my acquaintanceship, and found writing one blog post was less demanding than writing fifty emails that would say approximately the same thing.

At another time, I was seeking an outlet for my compulsive need to write creatively. (That is an itch that writing professional emails and design rationales cannot scratch.)

At another time, I needed to distract myself from the tedium and monotony that is keeping a newborn baby alive, by passive-aggressively—but I hope also humorously—complaining about the various war crimes that child put me through.

At another time, I needed to dust and polish off the other facets of myself. This was when I threw off the badly knitted Mummy-Blogger jumper, and remade this blog to become Thus and Therefore—the place where I would talk about whatever I want. Because if I’d had to speak or write the word ‘baby’ one more time, my head was going to explode.

Then there’s now.

Now, that notorious newborn is about to turn five years old. I’m tired. I’m preoccupied. I’ve over-committed. And I really can’t be arsed keeping a blog that’s all Take and no Give. With few people who visit it, and even fewer who comment, there’s simply no incentive anymore.

It seems backward, to me, to preserve a blog habit simply for the sake of preserving a record, instead of for the sake of publishing good quality writing. (It can’t be good quality if it’s churned out the night before, powered by nothing but panic and coffee.) It’s an unhealthy reason, if a reason at all. It’s a misplaced priority. I’d been so determined to keep my record up of publishing something every week, that maintaining the regularity of the posts became more important than the posts not being crap.

Does that seem okay, to you? It doesn’t to me. There’s enough crap on the Internet as it is.

I routinely find myself feeling pressured as the weekly Publishing Day approaches, with my WordPress entry screen and my creative tank both empty, and the need to get something—anything—ready. And for what?

For my record? A record is of zero practical use.

For my handful of loyal readers? They don’t have the conditional love that requires regular updates to sustain it—they’d read my content even if entries were months apart.

For writing exercise? I’d started the blog ambition of a post every week because I’d wanted to de-atrophy my creative writing muscle. It worked, too. For a while. But now it’s burned out and wheezing. Without the demand of a weekly blog, perhaps it may find engagement in other creative writing activities. After it’s had a chance to catch its breath.

I have plenty of demands on my time. Most people do. And I know for a fact that other homeschooling parents who also run a business do. I need to reserve my energy and creativity for my children and my clients. Not throw it into a cavernous black hole that gives me no reward but the demand I do it again a week later.

So I might quit blogging.

If I can persuade my irrational mind to stop wailing about it.

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(14) Comments

  • Tehila
    08 Apr 2017

    Eve, I can completely relate to your struggle… The trick is to be the master of your blog, and not let your blog be the master of you. I truly admire your desire to be consistent, and your discipline to actually have followed through with it!! I wish I was more consistent in my blogging, and during the few seasons that I have been, I’ve personally enjoyed blogging so much more, but life is busy, whether we want it to be or not, and you may get alot more satisfaction out of blogging if you do it when you are inspired and feel like writing something for your faithful audience, rather than keeping to a deadline…

    I personally LOVE your writing, your perspective, your brutal honesty, and your brain!!! You are so gifted, and express yourself better than anyone I’ve ever met! But you do need to clarify your “why” like with every other activity in life…

    You are a blessing!
    ps. I have had your peanut butter chocolate in my pantry (and miraculously not eaten it) for months! I think I need to get you a fresher block! Will post it soon (excuse the pun)…

    Love and hugs xoxoxo
    Tehila

    • Eve
      08 Apr 2017

      Thank you, Tehila, I appreciate every occurrence of people telling me they find some value in my candour! My ‘brutal honesty’ makes trouble for me more than I’d like, so whenever I hear it framed as a positive characteristic, its a balm for my psyche!

      On another note, I suspect chocolate got the gift of immortality, or very near it. Even when it’s old enough to get discolouration spots on it, it still tastes fine. (Unfortunately, perhaps for the sake of some sort balance of good and evil, cockroaches got this near-immortality, also. I can’t comment on how they taste over time, though. Nor do I care to.)

  • Rebekah
    08 Apr 2017

    I, too, love your writing. I haven’t thought any of these blog posts to be crap at all. I like them all! But you’re right. I would read it whenever you updated it. You have my unconditional love. And readership. X

    • Deborah Makarios
      08 Apr 2017

      Me too!
      And if your irrational mind is not the voice of your emotions (heart as opposed to head), but rather the voice of your ‘oughts,’ then I say gag her with a chocolate bar and move on.

      • Eve
        08 Apr 2017

        She’s one of many personas in there, representing different facets of me. (Some of them even have names—they’d show up a lot; I was getting to know them pretty well.) Maybe that one was an emissary of emotion, as the many logicians in there found her distasteful. (They regard ’emotional’ and ‘irrational’ as frequently synonymous.) That may explain why, if an emotionally-driven persona bothers to make a case at all, they’ll usually lose.

        • Deborah Makarios
          08 Apr 2017

          I found it very freeing when I decided that my emotions didn’t have to logically justify themselves. I don’t say I’d make decisions based on those illogical emotions, but somehow it helped to tell myself “it’s ok to feel that, even if you can’t prove it makes sense.” But then I probably have many fewer internal logicians 🙂

    • Eve
      08 Apr 2017

      Aw, my favourite kind of reader — thank you. (Although, I’m pretty sure I could scribble an ‘abstract art’ piece with a blunt and dirty crayon, and you’d still stick it on the fridge for a month. Because you’re that nice to me.)

      • Rebekah
        10 Apr 2017

        Well, I’d probably have questions as to why you weren’t turning in the art I know you’re capable of but, if you’re presenting me with sorry crayon drawings in the belief that it’s your best work, then there is clearly something going wrong for you. In which case I wouldn’t want to destabilise you by not putting your work on the fridge. I’d then use the ‘drawing’ as a reminder to check how you’re doing in a regular basis while you go through your tough time. =)

        • Eve
          10 Apr 2017

          Wow. You put a lot of thought and delicacy into that. Good job. 🙂
          Good strategy. Now I know that if I ever have mental breakdown, I won’t need words. Just a dirty crayon.

  • Rachel
    08 Apr 2017

    Yes, what Tehila said… except for the peanut butter chocolate. 🙂

    • Eve
      10 Apr 2017

      Then my reply to you is what I replied to Tehila…except for the chocolate and cockroaches. 🙂

  • Ash
    10 Apr 2017

    I’ve enjoyed reading your blog posts, and often felt like I should comment. But I didn’t feel like I had anything to contribute, and I didn’t want to comment purely for the sake of commenting.

    • Eve
      10 Apr 2017

      I can appreciate the value in not wanting to create or add to white noise, so I understand your silence. And I’m glad to hear you’ve enjoyed my previous posts — thank you. It’s looking probable I’ll keep blog space on this site (because eradicating even the option gives me a slight sense of panic), though updates may be sporadic; certainly not every week.

      • Ash
        13 Apr 2017

        I’m glad to hear you’ll continue creating updates. I shall continue to enjoy reading them. =)

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