Can I write a ‘less’ blog post?
In my case, it is always more – long-winded sentences, huge chunks of paragraphs, little to no visual interest, everything they tell you not to do for a medium solely living (for free) on the internet.
But, can it mean ‘More is more’? Or, is more ‘less’, i.e. does more writing result in less readers? What would a writer be without readers? Loads of words wasting space. And time. And energy. And hope.
This is what I wrote to myself (in my notebook) the other day:
“I don’t like writing essays anymore. At least, not the confessional ones. I haven’t been writing well lately. And I don’t want to talk about depression and existential crises using myself as a case study anymore. I want to switch to fiction – in prose, drama and poetry. That’s where a ‘career’ is.”
Nothing out of the ordinary for yours truly – Whine, Moan Central. But, it’s more ‘true’ than usual. My new year resolution was to become more impressionistic and less analytical. But, analysis can help you churn out sentences everyday, while impression is highly whimsical. And, my brain hurts. I am constantly fatigued. And I can’t even capitalize on incessant pain as European writers used to do. Nothing’s coming.
Perhaps, it’s the higher octave of my usual existential crisis, because I’m a May baby. Perhaps, it’s the weather. Perhaps, it’s getting bored of doing the same thing for too long. Perhaps, it’s chronic dissatisfaction, whether I’m doing the same old thing, or trying something new all the time. They say writing is 10% Inspiration and 90% Perspiration. Add actual perspiration to that, and you get about 200% Perspiration, gone-on-holiday Inspiration and 100% ‘My Writing is Sh*t’.
And when it comes to blogging, it doesn’t help that as a self-editor, I am biased. I don’t buy myself a drink and say, “Oh darling! You’re the best thing since…” but drown in my own sighs and say, “You endlessly insufferable moron, how can you even think this crap should be allowed to exist on some miserable little corner of the internet? You…”
And so it goes. You think all the wonderful things you read everyday, all the wonderful advice you get about how everything is going to be alright etc, etc, are useless when you can’t change. That, year after year, no matter how mature you think you get with the passing of time, no matter how much your metabolism decreases so that you evolve from Man to Sloth, no matter how many birthdays, new year’s etc you get to start afresh with plans, you just don’t change. Dr. Suess said, “There is no one youer than you.” Everyday I realise how much Mear than me I am, than I give my me-ness credit for.
Ch-ch-ch-ch Changes, Turn and face the strange…
Just gonna have to be a different man, er, writer…