Writing for a curated audience

And by curated, I mean small? And by small, I mean the 5 of you who have seen me cry on more than 3 occasions. Because, let’s be honest, most NDG residents have seen me cry at least once. Public crying is something I am no stranger to.
Yeah, so writing when you know that your post is reaching a far smaller audience is really quite different. True and False, here are some of my most recent impressions about blogging outside of a business:
  1. For starters, you have the impression that because less people are reading, the posts matter less. The questions “what’s the point” is raised often.
  2. You also have the impression that you function above blogging rules and can post whatever/however you want.
  3. You can be totally self absorbed and not worry about whether or not your post adheres to your established brand messaging.
  4. Blogging, as it ceases to be an obligation, is harder- because it’s fueled solely by self motivation- and easier because there are few, if any, expectations.
  5. Aspirations for a personal blog have to be completely redefined.  Stats-conscious mind frames need to be re-oriented, and it’s not that easy.

So the question remains, why blog?

When there is no intent to commercialize, no wish for great traffic or dreams of sponsorship. It’s hard to know why.  I recently burned the diary I kept in grade 4. It was a mortifying glimpse into the mind of a 10 year old girl. A 10 year old girl obsessed with boys and friends and dreams of being an adult. It took me 5 seconds to throw that in the fire.

The posts at CR and E&A are small portholes into an existence that, at the time, was all encompassing.  When I read them now, with a little more insight on life and a few more wrinkles and grey hair, I relive these moments and rediscover parts of the last 7 years that I had forgotten.

Why blog?

Ultimately, I blog as a gift to my future self. That despite all dreams of fame and glory, in the end blogging for me is about recording memories, events and interests.

Hopefully, I’ll resist the urge to throw these diaries in the fire.



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