My friend, Rain Delay, made a recent post about the nature of blogging. It's a strange animal, this blogging business. A Zebra with rainbow stripes that lives in Antarctica. A freak of nature that's absolutely incredible to look at but that no one will ever see.
Not that this blog is incredible, but I do wonder at my semi-dedication to it when there are so few who actually read it. What's the point? Is it as Rain Delay says, blogs have become just a means to a book deal instead of a real journal? Is that why I chose to do this?
I am a self-proclaimed writer with a serious procrastination/motivation problem. I abhor the physical act of writing so much that I will almost choose anything else to do before writing. And yet, it's my chosen vocation. I am the most happy, the most proud of myself when I put words down on a page. But I rarely do it. I have so many movies, plays, books in various states of development because I lack the drive to finish them.
This blog allows me the short term success. It let's me put words down in an order of my choosing and then press Publish Post. My thoughts and words are then immediately placed in the public arena for comment. But it doesn't really matter if anybody reads it, this whole thing is really for me. I actually was doing this for months before I told anyone about it.
Only Zuul is about me writing. That's it. And if someone sees the Rainbow Zebra in Antarctica, that's pure gravy.