When I looked at the date of my last blog post I was overcome with guilt, then anxiety. How can one simple act of creative output cause me such pressure, such expectation? Blogging is supposed to be fun, isn’t it? And it is, for the most part, except when it starts to feel like a job.

My problem is that I keep not one but two blogs going, plus my numerous writing projects; a new book of poetry, a book of short stories, and a novel. My good friend and fellow scribe, Wendy C., has been inspiring me to get serious about the novel that has been in the works for years. Her support and drive is really good for me. But admittedly I default to writing new short fiction and poetry. Somehow it seems less daunting.

Blogging, like journaling, is a way to empty your mind, brainstorm, flush out new or old ideas, share. It can be a way to promote your work. Blogging is one more social media outlet, and if you set up a realistic blogging schedule, it should be an enjoyable and hassle-free pastime, and a good way to practice your craft.

I knew all this when I climbed onboard the blogging treadmill. So if I want to play in the big leagues, I can’t cry about it.


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