What if I’m stupid?
Would it even matter if I think I’m smart?
What if I’m stupid?
Would it even matter if I think I’m smart?
Still learning the fundamentals of blogging, the post, Blogging: A newbie’s guide, seemed like an obvious reading choice.
Just as I suspected! In blogging, content is c.king.
But the secret to great content? Passion. Without passion, content will never develop beyond superficial.
What am I passionate about? I am passionate about writing.
Writing to myself. Writing for myself.
Writing to document my thoughts and feelings. Writing to understand my thoughts and feelings.
Over the past three years, I’ve slowly stopped writing.
It’s easy to stop when we’re so busy with consumption. Music, podcasts, streaming video, ebooks, texts, social media, not to mention the entire world [wide web]—all at our fingertips. All day. Every day.
We don’t have time for self reflection! We are too busy swiping, watching, snapping and chatting.
We consume at gluttonous rates. We are not satisfied. We are numb.
This is my intervention—a creative introspection.
I am passionate about writing.
So let’s write some shit and see what happens.
# of likes
# of followers
# of views
# of minutes, hours or days ago
# of characters
# of words
# of keywords
# of shares, retweets and comments
# of reviews
# of stars
# of clicks
# of bounces
Does quantitative success guarantee qualitative value?
How does quantitative failure help to construct qualitative improvements?
You’re a blogger! What do you think?
I would really like to know.
Here I am. Step one, mile one. Typing as if I have something to say. Which is crazy. Because I do have something to say!
IRL* (in real life)—yes, I inverted the acronym/spelling parenthetical on purpose. *It’s a joke. I talk—a lot. I also laugh at my own jokes—a lot.
I don’t stop talking. Not even when I’m alone. Nope. I keep talkin’. Out loud. If you see me walking on the street, I’m not on the phone. I’m talking to myself. I’m just wearing my ear buds so you think I’m on the phone. But I’m not.
I talk because I have something to say and jokes to make.
I talk because I haven’t read, heard or met anyone who has a voice quite like mine.
In my twenties, I wrote all. the. time. I wrote more than I talked. (Or at least an equal amount.) In the last three years, my life has changed a lot, and in the transition I fell out of writing.
Instead of writing, I’ve been talking—a lot.
But when you say things they are gone. Writing is what captures my ideas.
She’s in there. I promise. If you stick with this, you might surprise yourself with what you’re capable of now.
I write because I have something to say and jokes to make.
I write because I haven’t read, heard or met anyone who has a voice quite like mine.
My most confused point about blogging—each post is an independent first draft. The posts make up the blog, which as a whole evolves the message, voice and point of view. An ideology of fast ideation to achieve growth verses methodical revision to produce growth.
It seems no one likes to stop and think anymore. Blogging and Tweeting are designed to bypass the distinguished filters of an editorial process. Don’t wait to get it right—post it and let the people tell you what’s wrong with it.
Having the ability to post and share whenever we want has unleashed an unnerving peer-and-industry-pressured impulse to share our thoughts as soon as we think them, even if they are not complete thoughts but blurts of an emotion.
If I had a nickel for every time someone has publicly apologized for something they tweeted (because the tweet was misunderstood or just a fucked up and unnecessary thing to say), I would have a whole lotta nickels. If those same people had to wait 24-thought-processing hours before sharing on social media, I bet one of two things would happen:
They would clarify their thought and avoid being misinterpreted or misunderstood. (An editorial process.)
They would forget about the mundane, inconsequential thought that they just had to share because they have moved on with their lives (instead tracking the thought through likes, shares, follows, retweets and comments written just as impulsively).
Blogging is definitely not as impulsive as tweeting.
This is all to say that I need to worry about perfection less and start sharing more—fast ideation to achieve growth. If I’m right, and I am a good writer, that will shine through even if they are not the most polished posts.
It will be scary, like practicing in front of an audience. Maybe if I imagined you in your underwear…
Have you considered petite sizes or 28 inseam for your shorts?
Today, I was in the San Francisco store. I tried on every style of shorts available, sizes 26-27.
My butt and thighs fill out the bubble of the size 27 shorts (none of the size 26 shorts fit past my hips). However, the 27 waist is too high and large. The denim in the back of the waist sticks out, as if expecting another 5 inches of legs to appear.
Petite sizing would fix this problem!
I would love to hear your thoughts regarding this manner.
Take a deep breath…
Now, visualize what you want—want to happen. Want to be.
Things don’t just happen. In real life, as an adult, if you want to be extraordinary, you have to try.
It’s easy to coast along. Work week: commute, exercise, happy hour, return home to a nightly routine of preparing for the next day. Weekends: laundry, social plans, marveling at the kids—they grow up so fast.
But if you want something to change, you have to try. You have to be thoughtful and proactive. Lean forward. Disrupt routine.
I moved to California for many reasons. To get away from winter. To get away from my family’s doubtful opinions of me. But also, to write a book.
Have I mentioned I’m writing a book? It’s called Let Me Out I’m Stuck.
You’ve probably never heard of it though because I haven’t finished writing it yet (not to mention the professional proposal and polished pitch I need to attract a publisher).
Four years ago, I arrived in San Diego, California with a New Yorker’s swagger and determination. (I also arrived with no idea of how complicated, tedious and time consuming it was to write a book.)
My first summer here I proudly pronounced, “The Summer of Writing!” With four months vacation from my contracted copywriting gig (and very few friends within 3,000 miles), I committed to transcribing my New York journals onto my laptop. Eight years of City escapades and self exploration packed into three hundred typed pages of exercises in candor and wit.
After two months of diligent digitization, I printed and bound my first draft at 2nd Street Printing in Encinitas, California.
For the remainder of the summer, I remember pouring over those bound pages. I added creative writing assignments I had written throughout the years and wrote new, scenic prose to introduce the reader into my world. I meticulously shaped the first fifty pages, focusing on my “hook,” as they call it in the publishing biz.
Then, I got distracted by a complicated living situation. In the two years I lived in San Diego, I packed up and movedª five times.
After the fifth move, I decided to leave Southern California. I put my book on hold to apply for jobs in San Francisco—Which is where I live now, working at yet another corporate copywriting job (this one without a four-month summer break).
Work week: commuting, exercising, happy hour-ing, returning home to a nightly routine preparing for the next day. Weekends: laundry, social plans,
marveling at the kids, experiencing the city.
This month marks two years in San Francisco. Four in California!
I moved to California as a result of trying, leaning forward, disrupting.
I moved to California to write a book.
No more distractions, Charlotte! You’re accountable now.
So, take a deep breath…
Visualize what you want.
I want to share my voice and vision with the world by writing a book.
Good. Now, what needs to happen/what do you need to do to make that happen?
Today’s post is focused on the acknowledgement of two:
(1.) Read more. I recently changed my commute to secure a half hour to forty five minutes on the bus to read each morning on my way to work. (My previous commute required switching from bus to BART, ten minutes on each. Sure, I got to work faster, but was that really my objective? The great thing about public transportation is that someone else is driving! I might as well relax, turn the page and enjoy the ride.
(2.) Write more. Content is reliant on production (more on this later). Starting today, right now, I am making myself accountable to a weekly 2-3 hour writing session every Thursday evening.
ªShout out to Tttttravis who actually moved my stuff.