Galloping Along
Earlier this week this blog hit Birthday #8.
Eight is a long time in internet world though if I am being truthful the heyday of this blog and most others has come and gone. People move on. Fads change. Focus shifts. If video killed the radio star then social media killed the blogosphere.
I miss the old days of such a vibrant writing community, but obviously not enough to do my part to keep them alive. I don't create or visit other blogs the way I once did. Frankly, I wonder how I ever found the time back then.
So much has happened to my gang of online friends. Some have passed on, others have finally found the success they so richly deserve. Others have disappeared altogether. I get a touch sad if I think of those that quit chasing their dreams. Perhaps they found new dreams to go after. Perhaps they are happier than those of us still fighting away in the tough world of publishing.
Some I keep up with via Twitter, Facebook or Instagram but it is not the same level of intimacy that the old blog world had.
But life does march on. Time gets away from me often and then I remember something or see a picture of a child I remember being born posted and think How, How the hell is it possible that kid is so big. Or I see photos of kids I remember going to their first day of school who are now teenagers. Elementary kids passing their drivers test. Teenagers growing up and getting married and producing grandbaby pictures.
It all get overwhelming at time. To think on it and study on how much time has slipped by makes me melancholy at times. As of life itself is passing me by.
But that is a dangerous habit. Looking back is never healthy. The writing life is not for the faint of heart. I think it is a trap we place on ourselves. A trap for which there is no escape.
The wildly successful are under pressure to produce that next great thing.
The mildly successful fight to hand on.
The yet to be successful wonder when their turn will come.
Few writers I have ever met are content and satisfied with their position in the business. I think this is because we live in our heads too much. Twisting turning examining our fates with the same scrutiny we do our plots and characters.
I'm just rambling on. Getting out thoughts. I suppose this is a long winded way to say I miss many of my writing friends. I miss the excitement of the chase that came with being pre-published. Now the saddle of expectation weighs me down but every once in a while I need to remind myself this is a race I chose to run.
Eight is a long time in internet world though if I am being truthful the heyday of this blog and most others has come and gone. People move on. Fads change. Focus shifts. If video killed the radio star then social media killed the blogosphere.
I miss the old days of such a vibrant writing community, but obviously not enough to do my part to keep them alive. I don't create or visit other blogs the way I once did. Frankly, I wonder how I ever found the time back then.
So much has happened to my gang of online friends. Some have passed on, others have finally found the success they so richly deserve. Others have disappeared altogether. I get a touch sad if I think of those that quit chasing their dreams. Perhaps they found new dreams to go after. Perhaps they are happier than those of us still fighting away in the tough world of publishing.
Some I keep up with via Twitter, Facebook or Instagram but it is not the same level of intimacy that the old blog world had.
But life does march on. Time gets away from me often and then I remember something or see a picture of a child I remember being born posted and think How, How the hell is it possible that kid is so big. Or I see photos of kids I remember going to their first day of school who are now teenagers. Elementary kids passing their drivers test. Teenagers growing up and getting married and producing grandbaby pictures.
It all get overwhelming at time. To think on it and study on how much time has slipped by makes me melancholy at times. As of life itself is passing me by.
But that is a dangerous habit. Looking back is never healthy. The writing life is not for the faint of heart. I think it is a trap we place on ourselves. A trap for which there is no escape.
The wildly successful are under pressure to produce that next great thing.
The mildly successful fight to hand on.
The yet to be successful wonder when their turn will come.
Few writers I have ever met are content and satisfied with their position in the business. I think this is because we live in our heads too much. Twisting turning examining our fates with the same scrutiny we do our plots and characters.
I'm just rambling on. Getting out thoughts. I suppose this is a long winded way to say I miss many of my writing friends. I miss the excitement of the chase that came with being pre-published. Now the saddle of expectation weighs me down but every once in a while I need to remind myself this is a race I chose to run.
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