thoughts on blogging in 2024

I wrote this last spring when I was waffling about whether or not to keep posting here. Then over the summer, I decided I was done. But I miss it. I always do, and so one of my new year's changes is to start posting again. Probably not often. I'm aiming for once a week, on Fridays.

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When I started blogging a million years ago (2003), the online world was not the center of popular culture the way it is now. Those of us who set up personal blogs early on were just a bunch of nerds having fun. Social media didn't even exist. 

It never occurred to me that by keeping a blog, people would think I was setting myself up as an expert or (god forbid) an influencer. I mean, why would I? I'm barely passable in any area where influencers excel (fashion, makeup, home decor, cooking). Other than reading a lot and thinking too much, I have few talents.

It was months after I wrote the "Makeup and Me" post back in 2015 that I figured out that some people thought I meant to give advice about makeup. It was so absurd, I was speechless-- who in the world would take advice from me about makeup? I wear as little as I can get away with. I thought I was making fun of myself, and also I thought more of my readers would be smiling along with me (which turned out not to be the case)(more about that another time).

In my mind, this blog has been about providing sometimes-snarky, sometimes-heartfelt commentary from the cheap seats, so to speak. But that doesn't seem to be possible anymore. I don't know. I'm trying to figure this out as I type. 

Based on the feedback I've been getting recently, if you express an opinion in a blog or a substack or on social media, people assume you are setting yourself up as someone who wants to be an example, listened to, noticed. Apparently it doesn't have to do with intent, it's just the way social media works these days. It feels like people are either looking for someone to follow, or someone to tear down. There doesn't seem to be any room for wiseass, hey-what-about-this-interesting-thing commentary.

Of course at various times I've hoped that by posting here, I would find like-minded people, especially years ago when I was writing intensively about recovering from evangelicalism. Or maybe I could find other people who enjoy complex, non-nihilistic literary fiction but have a soft spot for genre fiction with smart, competent female characters.

(ok maybe that's a good example-- I type that thinking I'm poking fun at my absurd zenn diagram of reading tastes, but maybe it comes across as me thinking that is an admirable goal for all readers. I don't know.) 

I do post my opinions about books I've read and movies I've seen, and of course I'd love it if you agree with me, but I'm not expecting it. Maybe even when we disagree, my opinions will help you figure out what you like. It's like listening to my favorite book podcast. By my estimate, Anne and I have about a 60% overlap of books we like, and of those, there's maybe a 30% overlap on books we love. The rest we'd probably disagree on. But I can listen to her and usually figure out whether or not I'll like something she's recommending because I've been listening long enough that I have a pretty good idea of how our tastes compare. 

I've also written posts that I thought might give you a different way to think about things, or even change your mind, but I never thought anyone would actually listen to me. It's like the way I give advice to my kids-- I can't stop myself from doing it, but most of the time they ignore me (as they should, they're 33 and 26). I post almost entirely for selfish reasons. I like writing. I like the way it clears my head. I like the way it forces me to figure out what I think. And writing for a blog forces me to think harder than scrawling in a journal (although sometimes I do that, too).

After all, if I truly meant to set myself up as an influencer, I would do some self-promotion-- and I have not. I have posted a link to this blog on social media exactly twice in the past dozen or more years. Three times if you count the time I posted it to a private group on FB. The link is in my profile on all of my social media accounts, but that requires someone clicking on my profile, first of all, and then being curious enough to click on the link. I'm hardly forcing anyone to read it. 

Obviously the criticism I've received struck a chord, probably far deeper than people intended. (In fact, it was only said to my face twice--once explicitly, once implied. And then there are frequent comments online in general terms that are unrelated to me, but which I neurotically take personally. My response is, uh, clearly way out of proportion.) "I like doing it" is pretty much the only reason I have to keep going, and theoretically, that's the only reason that matters. But in reality, it's hard to keep going when people are telling you that by continuing on, you're suffering from delusions of grandeur. And yet here I am.