Recently I had a conversation that addressed this question: Why bother writing a blog? There are so many blogs out there, and will mine really be able to make a difference? My voice is tiny and will never outshout the cacophony of the blogosphere. Plus, there are always writers who are funnier, smarter, more popular than I could ever hope to be. It takes quite a bit of time and energy to write something passably articulate and meaningful, and when there are zero comments, it can be especially discouraging. Blogging often feels like a futile task. I might as well go the way of Emily Dickinson and store all my scribblings in a locked trunk that will be discovered only after my body has been buried in the ground.
There is a good answer to “Why bother writing a blog?” and it’s the same answer I tell myself when I’m completely down and ready to give up writing fiction, which happens more often than I would like to admit.
Why DO I bother? I’m writing to reach my Audience of One, my Dearest Reader, who is searching for a perspective just like mine. I’m writing for someone who feels like they never quite fit in, someone with a love of words and music and whimsy, someone who feels, sees, hears deeply and is just a little, or overwhelmingly, shy (like me). I’m writing for someone who will probably never leave a comment (because shyness), but someone who finds a true pleasure reading this blog.
So even though it feels like I’ve created a sink hole of a blog, there’s still that tiny speck of hope. My hope is that you, my Dearest Reader, my Audience of One, have found me. Every week I am writing for you. Thank you for reading.