Scribblous

I was asked recently why I write a blog. Well, sort of. It was put to me another way, but that’s the question I keep asking myself this weekend. Why do I blog? What is the point? What eternal benefit do I get from blogging?

So, since it’s still bothering me 3 days later, I thought I’d answer the question with a blog. Perhaps, if that person chooses to read this post, they’ll understand me a little better.

I like to write, and have since I can remember. Most especially I like to write fiction. I’m currently working on a work of fiction, and hoping to have it finished somewhere in the near future. But, then, why blog? Well, for me, it’s an outlet. It actually helps me find that special spot in my mind where my creativity lies. Even if I never publish the post (which happens more often than you would guess).

I like the community online. No, I’m not finding strange people that I’m going on dates with (already found my husband!). I enjoy getting to know different personalities that I find online. Some of them make me laugh out loud. Some of them help me to mourn with them. And then there are the ones all in between and everywhere at once. It’s nice to find other people with the same ideas or different ones and talk about what we know and feel.

But most of all? I like to blog because it makes me happy. For an indescribable reason, I become happy when I’m sitting at my computer writing a blog post. I cannot always be working on my story. (In fact, I cannot always be on the computer — not with a little one running around!) It gives me an out, but a way to continue writing.

So, eternally? Well, it’s changed who I am, so I guess in that sense, it has been an eternal blessing in my life. But otherwise? I blog because I want to.

Before I can write well, I have to relax. If I try just pushing it all out, I get some pretty sad dialog and then toss it out, disgusted with myself. I’ve found a list of things that help me to relax, to find my inspiration, and to be able to move past whatever else is on my mind so I can write.

1. Go for a walk (or a run). I like to do this almost every morning. Not only is it great exercise, but my son enjoys it and my mind clears.

2. Listen to good music. Dancing can also help. I recently discovered the joy of dancing with a young baby. He loves music, too!

3. Let it rain. This one is difficult… I’m still working on the logistics of convincing the clouds to rain. But staring out the window staring at the falling rain or listening to the sound of it hitting the pavement while smelling that awesome smell… there’s nothing quite like it.

4. Bake bread or anything creative. I can’t do this too much, or I won’t get to the writing but the kneading process is great for relaxing!

5. Take a bath. Now, this one… it’s questionable as I will probably take in a book and never get around to writing myself but it is good for relaxing.

6. Have a good chat with my husband. Somehow when the conversation is over, I feel relaxed and ready to write.

7. Sit and watch a child play. My favorite is my son, but I’m sure any child would do. Their play is so innocent and everything is new. It reminds me of times when life was more simple.

I’m sure there are more on my list, but these are the ones I’ve used lately. They’re also great for getting me out of the dismals or for just about whenever.

It’s been forever since I’ve written anything here, and I’d love to say I’d taken all of that time and dedicated it to writing my story. Unfortunately, I have this thing against lying… so I won’t say that at all.

I’ve spent some of my time writing, much of it doing random stuff I like to think of as living, and the last bit that isn’t wasted on frippery, reading. I’ve noticed when I read the best authors (I could list a bunch here, but I would certainly miss some of the best and I couldn’t be forgiven from that) my writing improves. It flows easier, my ideas come faster and harder, and I love my story just a little bit more. When I read books that are good but not the most fantastic writing, I just want to read more, and my writing suffers.

This has a lot to do with consumption, I think. Let’s look at eating for a moment. You eat a fantastic meal. It smells good, looks good, has all sorts of wonderful variety, and then it even tastes wonderful. You may eat a little bit more than you would at a regular meal, but when you are done you feel satisfied and you go forward with your life. Contrast that with your favorite treat. It looks good, tastes good, and all that, but when you’re done you either want way too much more or you feel sick. Reading is the same way. I may read a little bit more than I “should” with the good authors, but I feel content when I finish. When I read the junk food authors, I either want more or feel sick.

On a quick side note… the junk food authors aren’t bad, and their stories can be wonderful, and I certainly enjoy them. But the point is, they’re junk food and should be taken sparingly. You need that wheat, those tomatoes, the milk, and the beef (or your protein of choice) to get you through the day. The ice cream isn’t a necessity. (Well… maybe the ice cream…)