I've just been talking about my blog, you know, in real life. It still feels odd doing so, actually! I've also been reading the wikipedia article on blogging too, specifically the 'Legal and Social consequences' part, which as I'm sure you can imagine, is very interesting...
I do not use a nom de plume, I self-promote all the time, of course, and I do talk freely about the things that happen in the places that I go, the people that I meet and work for and with. In Norwich, it was easier to...project an air of anonimity to the people I was writing about. On a University campus with any number of thousands of staff and students on-site at any one time, it was simple, coming up with names that reflected a person's character, or who they were to me rather than name names (although I'm sure the post about best friends in particular was almost completely transparent to those of you who have known me for a long, long time), that could have been interpreted in many ways. The titles become symbolic.
However, that was Norwich, and this is Truro. It's almost the case that everybody knows everybody round here, and a certain...bravery, perhaps straight up foolhardiness comes of commenting directly on the actions of other people (especially if it happens to be a derogatory light), because well... I'm sure it'll get back to them not just somehow, but probably quite soon. But having a personal blog like this, almost a diary (except for the #BEDM rush), an identity published into the anonymity of the internet (I'm sure that I know most of my readership, especially you who text, tweet or engage me in public...but who could I know in Hungary who's reading? Is it you? Say hello!), I mean, there has to be a percentage of my audience that I may never meet, so none of the names or titles here will mean anything except for the association the reader themselves build thereon.
Even though I've moved on from my formative diaries, there's still some cringeworthy stuff hidden deep away in the distant past; not just content but also in style. I guess having to write daily instead of the weekly schedule I was clinging on to (barely at that) has forced me to practice. It's still the same sort of stuff, but I find that hitting my stride in the post has become a little easier - it's not just what I write but the vocabulary and syntax of how I do it that matters, not just in media res, as well as the finished product. If it isn't remotely enjooyable to read, even for me, it's scrapped. 31% of all my posts I've ever written are still in the draft stage. There are a few that are complete: finished but not published, usually due to some nagging doubt in the back of my head, then left overnight, re-read and abandoned. Sometimes I have stuck with my original title and completely changed the content, other times a retitle halfway through the process has served far better than a whole reset.
Blogging every day in May has been quite hard. Sometimes, coming home from perhaps Evensong and having to get the dinner ready, or considering going out (or even coming back half cut), thinking about having to write has sometimes been... a responsibility I have sometimes chosen to neglect. Woah! The 'r' word? Sure, it's totally my choice to write to whatever schedule the hell I want it to be, but if I'm supposed to be writing every day then I should be writing. I chose to take this challenge on. Just like I chose to move out and go to University, and yeah sure there was the odd day where I was just paralysed by depression, but I didn't give up on that. I had people who wouldn't give up on me as well, and more triumph has come out of those friendships than I could ever have guessed. What about if it was my job to write though? I definitely enjoy writing (or I wouldn't be doing so three years on) but I'm sure there are many journalists and copywriters out there who would love to swap out and be a Cathedral musician instead, I mean, the grass is greener on the other side after all.
I don't really do pictures, either in my posts as a post in and of themselves, because writing in an extended fashion is how I engage with the blog. I guess this is an opinion column, as much as a personal lifestyle web log, and while I do attempt to portray events that happen in quite a factual manner, I am aware that authorial intent is different to audience interpretation. Thankfully, one's professional engagements so far have not brought any real consequences. Like my personal Twitter account, these are my views and my views alone; sometimes incendiary, often controversial, but without the aid of another...unless explicitly stated. Perhaps I should have a disclaimer page.
As we race towards the end of the schema so kindly written by Elizabeth, I wonder how I will progress? It has been exciting watching my pageviews ramp up to almost 10,000, I mean, even almost 8,000 at three years is quite good. I don't do much other than write, but then again I hope that the daily schedule has attracted a further audience to those of you already established, who might like to stick around once it all calms down again. This is the second post of the day though, and writing what's going to end up as over 2000 words on different subjects can be a bit draining. I'll finish work soon though, get home, hang m ysuit up and slap an LP on, and not have to think about dinner until way later this evening. The weather has picked up, and the chance to just go home and not have to worry about Evensong or the Men's rehearsal that follows on a typical Wednesday evening is the blessing of half term. Still, I could only ever have one week off.
Author's Note: I think that's enough for today. The #BEDM title passed down was "Bad Advice", for which I have even less answer than the contents of my fridge. I can't really remember serious bad advice, that is, bad advice couched seriously rather than sarcastically. I only seem to recall good advice that I haven't taken notice to, like..."never mix your drinks", receiving almost weekly ignorance. Maybe I've never really had bad advice: I can't remember a single episode off the top of my head,so I suppose that makes me very lucky. But obviously, very foolish for not taking the good advice. Anyway. Tune in tomorrow for wha should have been today's post about... the morning ritual. Good good
That's all. For now.
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