Writing 101: Why Do You Write?

What the actual fuck? It’s time for Writing 101??? When I signed up, I might have been fairly convinced that I wasn’t going to make it to September. Now that it’s here, I feel l may have bitten off a little more than I can chew with Blogging U, but I’m trying to embrace the madness. I had a lot of fun with Blogging 101 last year, and I’m looking forward to some interesting prompts and interacting with other bloggers.

If you’re new to this blog, you’ll get used to me being unable to answer a personal question without spouting off some nonsense in the hopes of changing the subject before anyone notices I’m not actually following the prompt. Since we’re in the early stages of this class, I’ll try to keep it honest without sending you fleeing in terror from my little corner of the internet. Welcome to my warm, happy blog home?

I wish I had a more meaningful answer to the question of why I blog/write, but I do it mostly because I need something to do with myself. One of the most fundamental things I’ve learned about myself is that I find ways to sabotage myself when I get bored. When I finished grad school (over) a year ago, my main hobby was throwing pity parties for myself. Strangely enough, that got a bit old (and I say that as a person with a remarkable aptitude for self-pity). I realized I needed to do something productive or I was going to morph into part of the couch. I settled on blogging because I was already sort of doing it, it’s free, and it doesn’t require me to wear pants. Combine with my love of watching terrible movies, participation in Blogging 101, fateful meeting with my blog wife Christa of A Voluptuous Mind, and the rest is history.

Now for the segment of this post where I unabashedly steal from more talented people. I was reading an article about Neil deGrasse Tyson recently, and he cited a Rainer Maria Rilke quote: “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves.” Blogging/writing is what I do to slow my thoughts down and rethink my questions. It’s been a strange year for me with so many more questions than answers, and that’s okay. Sometimes the questions lead you to better questions.

Before blogging, I hated the question “What have you done?” This is usually a question I ask myself, and I don’t always have an answer I like. What have you done? What have you made? At the very least, a teacup with the word “fuck” painted on it and this blog.