Cleo Moore in One Girl's Confession (1953)I am not a good blogger. I’m not. I don’t care for technical gadgety things. I don’t like fiddling with code and widgets, etc. My understanding of the Internet, social media, software, hardware, SEO, Web 2.0, iOS and WiFi can all be placed into one of two categories: Voo Doo or There Be Dragons. I’m horrible at self-promotion. I refuse to treat myself as a “brand” and I’m not interested in providing “content”. The entire concept makes me want to drag a box out into the city square and take up a rant on personhood, creative agency and the evils that come from the Sales & Marketing department.

Why do I blog, then? Well, I don’t know, really. If you read this thing I have created here, my writing space, you will see I break every rule listed in How To Get Thousands of Followers articles that litter the web. I don’t write article titles with Google search in mind. It is obvious I don’t know how to do anything new and gadget-like. I haven’t changed my blog design in two years. I’m not interested in providing “consistent content”. I started out, years ago, writing about my love of classic film and movies in general and then I branched out from there and now, here I am, having declared myself not that woman that writes about cancer, writing about cancer all the time.

Again, why do it then? I do it because what I am good at is writing and I want to get better. Not only am I good at it, I’m compelled to do it. I have been writing for as long as I can remember. The only way to move from ‘secretly really fantastic at writing but scared to show anyone my work’ to ‘I’m a writer’ was to push outside of my comfort zone and go from scribbling in notebooks to publishing in public. Luckily for me, there is the Internet. It’s easy. I don’t have to beg and borrow in order to gather money and self-publish my work, as Walt Whitman did.

Every time I publish a piece, there is a part of me wishing for recognition, for something I write to catch on and gain an audience. I mean, obviously, why else would I be doing this? But what I find is that with each piece I write, that wish has grown weaker, not stronger. Blogging has actually helped me conquer a need for approval and my fear of rejection. I’d like to think there is a place in publishing, in writing, for people like me, for my kind of blogging. I’d like to think good, honest writing will be enough, will eventually win over branding and content. Whatever the case, I’m going to keep working on my craft, writing what needs to be written and let the 0’s and 1’s fall where they may.