Blogging? Twitter? Facebook? Apps? And a whole gang of
similarly mind-boggling crazes. Come on, I don’t have time for those
time-consuming, intelligence-sapping, experience-numbing, socially divisive new
fads.
I’ll admit that that has been my sometime scornful, touch
condescending response to these phenomena. I gleefully professed my ignorance
at the whole lot and put your average blogger down to someone with too much
time on their hands. (In my head obviously; I didn’t want to upset anyone).
Douglas Adams was recently quoted in The Week: ‘Anything in
the world when you’re born is normal; anything invented before you’re 35 is
revolutionary; anything invented after you’re 35 is unnatural and wrong.’
OK, so when all these things came along I was still under 35. And I’ll admit I have a facebook page that I can just about figure out how to message from and load pictures on to. But I was definitely in the over-35 mentality.
So why the change of heart? Well, I can’t say I am properly
changed. I am just opening myself up to the possibility of it. My sister Kate,
seven years my junior, is my guiding light. Obviously she is in the very pre-35
category. She is also in the pre-having-kids category. Life is there for the
taking.
But the two of us, we harbour the same innate goal. To
write. Although I am sure every darned blogger harbours that very same innate
goal. And therein lies an added deterrent. Should everyone who wants to, write
and write publicly? Do we need to give a voice and readership to every single
being burning to express themselves? Isn’t there a touch of X Factor/Big
Brother to all this? The neediness of living your life in the public eye?
Desperately seeking celebrity status? Isn’t it all leading to a more frivolous
and shallow society?
OK, I know every great writer tweets or blogs. I just
haven’t had time to read any of them. I’d love to sign up to Stephen Fry’s; I
have heard that Caitlin Moran is very funny. I always enjoy reading Zoe Williams. She must have one, too. But I don’t sign up because I don’t know
how it all works and anyway, I don’t want to get sucked into any new
time-continuum-vortex.
And also, probably most importantly, I have a personality
that means I can’t do things by halves. Life, with kids in particular,
obviously has made me do things by halves – and quarters and eighths – but it
is not my nature. If I were to look into blogging I would have to read
everything about it and know everyone in it and read every blog that anyone has
ever recommended. And that is a job in itself. So it’s best to stay out of the
whole darn thing.
But here I am, despite my protestations, writing my first
blog. And that’s because of Kate. Kate said that if I wanted to get on in the
writing world (and I am trying) I needed to have a presence in it. And be aware
of other people’s presence in it (OK, I am currently still insular).
And because I went into journalism initially harbouring the
desire to write columns (and who does that at 25 apart from say, Zoe Williams?).
And I realised I had things to say that really weren’t
appropriate chatting topics for a two year old. Things pass through my head; I
think, ‘That would make a good article; I could write that,’ and then it all
disappears into the ether because I can’t have a debate with my toddler about
the woes of the gadgetful era; or the secrets to successful parenting; or why I
have an aversion to cooking; or how I’ve become more tolerant the older I have
become; or what compelled me to get through 7 boxes of chocolates in as many
weeks.
And if nothing else, I am being creative, learning to write
again and trying desperately hard not to be verbose as is often my fault.
So, weighing it all up, I think there maybe room in my life
for blogging after all. Whether anyone will read me… or for that matter,
should, is a whole other issue. But I’ll be working on that one next.
