I just read a Tweet from someone I follow, promoting 'quality writing' at various blogs. I know the blogs of which this person speaks and he is right. They are quality.Each post is carefully crafted and written with the skill of a 'proper writer'. It made me think about my posts. I have to, at this point, admit that my blog was not on the list of 'quality'.
I think that in the past I have written posts that are moving and well written ( she typed modestly ) but, to be honest, and to be somewhat pretentious even, my posts are somewhat organic. I do not plan what I write. I sit down and start to type. I read over what I have written and correct any glaring spelling mistakes, but generally what comes into my head goes onto the paper.
When I was at University, 25 years ago, I first discovered writing and it saved me. I needed to open up my head and let the words, the emotions pour out of me and onto the page.In those days they were hand written on foolscap paper and stored in a file made from cloth I picked up on an exchange visit to Paris.Looking at my poems ( I was an arts student, remember ) I am amazed that I did not end up hanging from a rafter in a garret somewhere. The imagery of loneliness and misery would make Morrisey look positively gleeful.
Now I am pleased and relieved to say that my writing seldom ventures into the realms of self pity and gloom that was so often the way when I was a student.But it is still a totally necessary part of my life, my mental health. There is something so incredibly cathartic about letting my frustrations, my joy, my boredom spill out of my head and onto the page.
I remember my very first post - New Year's Eve 2006, I think.I sat upstairs, alone, the kids driving me nuts, my husband at work, conscious of the world out there celebrating the New Year and me, in the prime of my life sitting in a bedroom feeling dowdy and deserted.I may have written angrily, but it was the start of something brilliant for me.
I may not be the best writer and I am certainly not one of the 'quality', but really your view of quality depends on what you are looking for in a blog.If you are looking for beautifully crafted, considered writing then I am not going to be your kind of girl. If you are looking for honesty, for emotions and thoughts pouring onto a page then maybe I'm your type.
At least you never quite know what you're going to get.It depends on what sort of day I've had. It depends on whether something has jogged my memory - a smell, a sound, an image.I suppose I am a selection box compared to a champagne truffle.Every now and then you get something delicious, but mostly its just good simple fare.
That's me. Honest. Part of me would like to be a 'writer', but part of me knows that that is just now going to work.Planning, having posts half written and stored for a rainy day is just not me.And that, my dear friends, is why blogging is so fantastic. Because you don't have to read just me, do you? You can delve into the beautiful of work of quality writers, or find out about my allotment, or about someone I loved and lost, or about someone else's horses or their decorating...
Variety is the spice of life.