November 30, 2021
Tuesday
The blog is dead, they say, “they” being “people who say things,” some of them pioneer bloggers, the people I fell in with back in 1998 when I started all this electronic scribble scribble. One of those people, Robert Hudson, whom I have actually met and have followed since the turn of the century, said this recently:
. . . blogging has become something of a dying… well, I won’t say “art”, exactly. Writing is writing, as far as I’m concerned, but as a way to deliver the written word, blogging has sort of lost its shine . . .
He said this by way of announcing via Facebook his return to traditional blogging, at least for a while. He’s been through a lot of changes these past 18 months, as have we all, and he misses this old way of doing things.
I do, too. In fact, I hardly know where to start. I’ve always described my blog posts as “first draft and a half” writing, or what another pioneer called the “spit, glance, upload” method — spit your words out, glance them over for obvious mistakes or omissions, and then just press post and walk away.
I’ve written just under 200 words now, and I am still in the “throat-clearing” portion of any essay, the part where the writer meanders through her random thoughts in an effort to find her real subject.
And the real subject is the same as it ever was — myself. On the night before Holidailies officially begins, I open my old school WordPress editor to my very old format, take an hour to find my way around the tools and the process, and wind up here, having said little that is engaging or useful.
But I’m back, my memory refreshed about how to do this, ready to spit, glance, and upload my way to the end of 2021. See you tomorrow.
Well, I certainly don’t consider blogging dead, having written daily since 2000. I was so pleased to read this entry and find out that Robert Hudson is blogging again. I always wonder about Schuyler.
Hi Margaret. I am happy to connect with you even though I am 1 in 100 who gets your “scribbles”. It would be nice, though, to hear from you otherwise. Today is my 80th birthday. I say this in some sort of awe because I hold in my mind a picture of Mamam in her black granny shoes and shapeless dress. Best wishes, cousin. Rosemary