I’ve become highly aware of my complacency to just let a week or two go by without a post, and I notice the increasing guilt I’ve felt as a result. I also realize I made many big goals for myself at the start of the year, only to realize they’ll suffer that stereotypical fate of most goals set around the onset of a new year. I found myself wondering how I could call myself a writer if I didn’t actually practice the craft — it’s not like I’m merely putting my efforts into another outlet, after all. Still, I’ve also been told that writing just to put something there isn’t always a good idea. I tend to write from the heart when I blog, honestly, so that would really make sense in that respect. It’s not methodical here. There are no outlines, no drafts, no drawn-0ut revisions. Instead, an idea hits me, my brain begins to process thoughts and words, and somehow I churn out between 200 and 800 words after any given post.
So the other day I read Gwen Bell’s post after a bit of her own hiatus, and I realized that perhaps the guilt is unfounded. Perhaps I’m merely treating this thing — this possibility to monetize my words and never have to leave my house to pay my bills — improperly. Perhaps I should be writing to write, to share the joys within my heart. To share the ideas I have. To simply share. Sure, a little money here and there would be nice, but at what cost? I already know there are those out there who frown upon some of the mediums I’ve been using as mediums that abuse the very writers whose words have so much more value than the mere pittances awarded to them. And why should it even be about that insufferable Google PageRank? It’s not about the quantity of visitors, really — it’s the quality. I’d like to say the quality of my visitors is quite nice at the moment.
Maybe I’ve been approaching my writing the wrong way for the past few months. Maybe it’s time to let go of the guilt, embrace the moments of creation, and go forward without looking back at past “failures.”