This Is My Last Entry:
Why I shut down my blog.
By Sarah Hepola
Posted on Slate, Wednesday, April 19, 2006
- One morning last month, I woke early, finished a book I’d been reading, and shut down my blog. I had kept the blog for nearly five years, using it as a repository for personal anecdotes, travelogues, and the occasional flight of fiction—all of which I hoped, eventually, might lead to a novel. And then, somewhere between the bedsheets and 6 a.m., I realized something: Blogging wasn’t helping me write; it was keeping me from it.I had come to this realization before, but the moment would pass, and I would find myself percolating with small, quotidian stories that I wanted to share: This funny thing happened on the subway; you’ll never believe what so-and-so said. Not revelations by any means, but I live alone, and blogging was a way to vent the daily ups and downs that might otherwise be told to the cat. Also, I couldn’t help but notice—even the cat couldn’t help but notice—the growing number of successful bloggers-turned-novelists. They were sexy, dishy women with pseudonyms, Wonkette and Opinionista, like they were dispatching from behind enemy lines. I was starting to feel like the only one left in the blogosphere without a book deal.
Actually, agents and editors had contacted me before, based on my blog as well as the writing I did for an online magazine called TheMorningNews.org. At the time, I was living in Dallas, and to be e-mailed by an actual New York agent felt like the 21st-century equivalent of being discovered at the mall. The e-mails were flattering, but, ultimately, they all asked the same annoying question: Have you written a book? Apparently, this was a requirement. When I told them I hadn’t, they moved on to the next blogger with potential, and I was left back in the mall where they’d found me, riffling through the sale at Hot Topic.
That is not a complaint. The arrival of such correspondence far exceeded my expectations when I started the blog in 2001, back when the word blog was still something you had to ease into conversation, like an obscure scientific term. I started the site at the beginning of a four-month trip to South America. I told only a handful of people, and the privacy of the blog—the illusion of privacy, that is—was the best thing I’d done for my writing since shelving the thesaurus.
Just prior to that, I’d been writing for an alt-weekly in Austin, Texas. What began as a great job had curdled into an anxiety nightmare. I would burn to write a certain profile and then, deadline looming, I would stare at the computer as another beautiful Saturday ticked away. I can remember crossing the street one night and thinking, absently, “If I got run over by a car, I wouldn’t have to finish that story!” Don’t get me wrong—I didn’t want to die. I just wanted a really long extension. Thus my decision to leave the job. Thus my journey to the southern hemisphere. Thus the blog that I started, thinking no one would read it and secretly hoping they would. The blog was the perfect bluff for a self-conscious writer like me who yearned for the spotlight and then squinted in its glare. When I needed to pretend that people were reading, I could. When I needed to pretend that nobody was reading, I could. (For this reason, I never checked the reader stats on my blog, unlike most of my friends, who check it as regularly as their e-mail.)
Eventually, I began enjoying my writing again. I stopped worrying about deadlines, audience, editors, letters to the editor, all the stuff that had smothered me before. I was writing so fast that I didn’t have time to double-think my sentence structure or my opinions. What came out was sloppier but also funnier and more honest. I started getting e-mails from people I’d never met, and they were actually encouraging. (At the paper, it seemed like most e-mails from strangers begin with a variant of “Hey, dumbass.”) I continued blogging for years, through cities and jobs and relationships, and though the blog entries never amounted to much, they always gave me a fleeting joy, like conquering some small feat—opening a very difficult, tightly sealed jar—even when no one is around to see it.
And yet every once in a while those agents would check in, to ask how that book was coming. And the book wasn’t coming, and wasn’t coming, and I became one of those people who talk about a book but never write it. At times, I started to feel that jokes and scenarios and turns of phrase were my capital, and that my capital was limited, and each blog entry was scattering more of it to the wind, pissing away precious dollars and cents in the form of punch lines I could never use again, not without feeling like a hack. You know: “How sad. She stole that line from her own blog.”
Blogging had been the ideal run-up to a novel, but it had also become a major distraction. I would sit down to start on my novel only to come up with five different blog entries. I thought of them as a little something-something to whet the palate—because it was easier, more immediately satisfying, because I could write it, and post it, and people would say nice things about it, and I could go to bed feeling satisfied. But then I would wake feeling less than accomplished because a blog wasn’t a whole story told from beginning to end. I had shelves lined with other people’s prose while my best efforts were buried on a Web site somewhere, underneath a lot of blah-blah about American Idol and my kitty cat.
I suspect I’ll come back to blogging eventually. It will be something I quit on occasion, like whiskey and melted cheese, when the negative effects outweigh the benefits. Practically every blogger I know has taken their site down at some point—for personal reasons, for business reasons, for boredom reasons. It’s no different from the way we have to turn off our cell phones or stop checking e-mail so that we can actually focus on something. As much as I loved writing online, it’s a relief writing offline: taking time to let a story unspool, to massage a sentence over an afternoon’s walk, to stew for days—weeks, even—on a plot line. What a modern luxury. Now, if I could just turn off the TV, I think I could finally get started.
Sarah Hepola is a freelance writer living in Brooklyn, New York.
My mother sent me this piece back in April when it came out. It’s been sitting in my inbox ever since, where I read it from time to time. I can’t quite bring myself to delete it. This could have been written by me at various times over the last several months, with the exception of the novel aspirations, the agents, the cat, American Idol, South America, and y’know, having actual writing experience.
I also have something that Sarah does not mention–a community. I have met so many great people through this medium. If it weren’t for the blog, I don’t know that I would be writing anything at all. Yet I wonder sometimes whether I need to move on to some other writing discipline. Blogging is one genre, one medium, and there are others to be explored.
How has blogging impacted your writing?
28 Responses to “to blog or not to blog”
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It’s brought out the exhibitionist in me.
I think blogging has helped my writing.
My thoughts have become more organized and I’ve learned to write better since it isn’t just stupid stories in a notebook. It is public. I get the advice and help of other writers, get ideas for my own writing. Heck, I’m involved in a story blog thing, 3 words, with fellow bloggers.
So for me it has helped.
As an academic, I’m expected to write - and to publish. At this point in my career, I’m slowly moving beyond the presentations and submitting actual journal articles - stuff that would make your ears bleed just to hear the titles (one working paper is currently titled “The Rhetoric and Ethics of Pre-Implantation Genetic Diagnosis in the Market Economy of the Human Reproductive Industry”). It’s nice to publich academic stuff - but if you don’t assign them to your students to read then the chances are that the work of a year or so will be read by MAYBE fifty people - and that includes two editors and three independent double-blind referees.
Blogging has led me to discover a more down-to-earth style for exploring the same issues that draw me into research. I get maybe a score or so readers on any given day at my personal site, but I submit in so many places that I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that a few hundred people read something I write most days. I’ve carved out a notch - or so I tell myself - for people who are interested in politics, live according to their faith, and enjoy looking at unexpected sides of issues. Now, every publication will tell you they want writers like that, but the truth is that few do. They want writers to crank out what editors and readers expect.
It has also led me to opportunities that I’d not have otherwise. In the past year, I’ve interviewed candidates for Governor of two states, a city councilman, a candidate for public advocate, a sitting Congressman, and a future (hopefully) Congressman. I was invited to participate in blogging for The American Prospect - which is nice because it actually pays (a pittance - but it counts).
As an instructor, I’ve been able to engage students in subjects that don’t fit neatly into my lectures. I’ve been able to inspire them to try putting their own thoughts in cyber-print. I’ve been able to show them how to engage the world around them on their own terms - to question, to demand answers, and to look for the truth.
All in all, it’s a good thing. But my wife still has to periodically tell me that I’m spending too much time with it.
If I weren’t blogging, I’d probably be spending an equal amount of time in other forms of writing. But, blogging has forced me to be a more engaging, more thorough, and more thought-provoking writer. It has also taught me the benefits of editing.
If you don’t consider blogging to be writing, then it will distract from writing. If you do, then it is doing exactly what you are meant to do. I liken it often to the age-old practice of pamphleteering. Instead of waiting for someone to find the next Tom Paine, though, he (or she) is already out there blogging away - and one day we will recognize it and give them the credit they deserve.
XT
Judged strictly from a productivity standpoint, online things kill writing. I think we could all accomplish the same writing goals offline, and faster.
But as you and Ms Hepola both suggested, there are other things to take into account, self-promotion and community being two of them.
I think if somebody wants to write a novel, and doesn’t have unlimited time, going offline is the best way to reclaim a big chunk.
I agree with LO. It’s helped. When I look at posts I wrote in the first few months I started the blog, I can really see the difference. Blogging is a medium that demands a different type of style than a many traditional writing forms. The more I work with it, the more I realize it suits me.
I think so many people miss out on the community aspects of blogging, they think it’s just putting your thoughts out on the blogosphere. It’s the commenting and the connections that keep me blogging, even if I’m going through a writing dry spell.
Of course I agree with you about discovering community, but it’s just as important that blogging led me to think of myself as a writer, full stop. I used to think of myself as someone who wrote sermons, but not as a writer. I have explored other lengths and forms that I had not before. I’ve even expressed myself in poetry when the feelings or the circumstances warranted, something I would not have considered. That’s not to say that blogging turned me into a poet! But it expanded my idea of who I am and continues to do so. I am a writer.
I write for a purpose (the newspaper) every day. My approach to it is much like an approach to a term paper. Research, write, submit.
I once loved to write letters. But, with so many hither and yon, who has the time?
With my blog, I express and write for no purpose, and easily keep correspondence with family and friends.
Yes, there’s promotion of other writing, but also, the blog lets family and friends know where to find “the serious stuff.”
They, most often, like the blog better.
I’m not a writer, never have been, never will be, and so the blog, for me has been purely to connect with those near and far and has had the added side benefit of allowing me to meet people whom I would never have met otherwise.
I don’t post often, I don’t think my postings are profound. But I enjoy it and it’s also a place where I can vent frustrations that can’t always be vented elsewhere.
This blog is the only place I have ever written just for the heck of it. To say it has been life-changing would not be hyperbole.
Those who follow things over at my place know that I’m an itenerate blogger anyway…and sometimes it makes my writing better, and sometimes, I slap something together because I have an idea about something I want to say and almost no time to say it, meaning of course that I choose to prioritize something else…I do not consistently give blogging the time it deserves from a quality perspective…but the community and the infrequent times when I actually say something marginally creatively keep me here…that and the ability to vent in places other than sermons.
Hmm, for me too the community issue has been key. And if I ever do decide to write a book, you can bet I will start a blog (among other strategies) to promote it (even before I send out the proposal…) But for a long time, blogging has been a way for me to exercise my writing muscle at times when I just didn’t have the time, energy, or focus to do other kinds of writing.
On the other hand, a lot of the writing that I used to do as “freewrites” or other more writerly writing gets blogged instead, with a few consequences. One, I don’t go as deep, because there are plenty of things I don’t care to share on my blog for one reason or another. Also, of course the blog form is totally different– shorter, much more conscious of the audience, etc. so it’s not as “free.” So it’s not really a great substitute– should be a complement, but these days I don’t have time for both. But for the time being, I think blogging is here to stay for me. I even find myself mentally composing blog posts all the time. Sigh…
Through blogging I found I could write - I also found that I had a community through Rev Gals - but it is time consuming.
I didn’t start blogging to help me write a book or get a name - but that book is still in me - waiting to be written, right now I do so much writing for semniary I think the book will wait some more …
Blogging has reminded me that writing is something I do…in a way that journalling, academic writing and sermons totally failed to. I’ve written more, and with greater pleasure since I began blogging than in the preceding 20 years since I left university. It’s reminded me why people assumed I’d publish rapidly back then. I’m not sure that it matters now whether I do or not,- but it’s restored my voice.
And, of course, it has provided friends whom I’d never dreamed of.
I can echo much of what has already been said here. I never much considered myself a writer-still don’t, I guess. But having a place to plunk some thoughts down has helped me sort out the complications of my life.
Blogging has made me braver in some regards, and more introspective in others. If I have something that is just niggling my brain to death, well, at least now I have a place to park it.
But Kathryn’s last line has been the surprise I’m most pleased with!
Umm, I just blog because I think I’m funny and I want other people to think I’m funny too…
… or that bit about community.
I’m with you guys all the way.
Spinning off a bit: At my writing workshop in March, the instructor talked about reading a memoir by a person who blogged, and the NYT review of the book said, “There is still a little too much blog in the DNA of this book,” and I knew exactly what she meant.
So I guess I’m wondering whether, for those of us who might want to write something someday, whether there’s a genre issue with blogging–whether, as this article says, the blog encourages a certain slapdash kind of writing that can be sloppy. (At its best, it can be fresh and irreverent, I suppose.)
I guess blogging - at least the majority I have seen - is on that spectrum with well thought out novels on one end and the emails and text messages the generations behind us send to one another (spelling, grammar, puntuation - hello?) on the other end.
So far the fact that I blog in a very casual, personal and a bit sloppy voice has not made my sermons overly casual or sloppy. I wonder if the review would have said something similar if they didn’t know the author had a blog.
Good thoughts… thanks for this thread.
The best way I can summarize is this:
Most forms of writing take the reader along for a ride. The writer is in complete control from start to finish. It’s a monologue.
Blogging is a dialogue - which leads to community building and friendship. I can also lead you to not explain yourself fully the first time around - which is good in a blog and bad in a book.
XT
I have found that I write more because I blog. I have always known I was a relatively good writer…but not with the confidence to write for other people. I always have things in my head waiting to get out (and giving me no peace until they get out!), but I’ve never been able to develop the discipline of journaling or anything like that. I have also found that my own voice was never trained out of my writing style–either personal or academic–and I enjoy writing in a way that makes people who know me hear my voice, and those that don’t wonder what I would sound like saying things.
I don’t particularly want to write a book (unless it’s a book of worship resources…I absolutely love writing liturgy), so it’s less of an issue for me on that front. Yes, sometimes my writing is sloppy, but it’s still me. (for the record, I always use complete words and correct grammar in text messages!) My blog is a place where I can be myself for my friends and family, and where I can make new friends. It keeps people in the loop about what’s going on in my life and my head.
On the other hand, because my friends and family read it, I can’t always be completely honest about what’s going on if they are irritating me!
That was a really long comment and I’m sorry…but having had a blog for almost as long as the author of this article, I just want to ultimately say that I have never thought of shutting my blog down. I gain too much from it in terms of clarity, community, and practice.
I am a reader, and I am a writer. I have known that all my life. These are two of my most important and central identities. HOWEVER…
Seven years of grad school (working on a two-year MA in English Lit) squashed and smunched and spoiled these things for me. This is not a comment on the program as such, but more about me and where I was and what happened to me during that time. (I graduated in 1994.)
It’s only been in the last three years that I have been able to read like I used to - voraciously, drowningly, life-givingly.
And it’s only in the past year and a half, since I started my blog, that I’ve been able to write again. I’m writing on the blog, AND I’m writing off of it. But the blog has re-opened a door that academic writing had slammed on my fingers. I don’t know when or if I’d have had the courage to try to re-open the door myself.
Thanks be to Blog! and RGBP!
Blogging for me is about a range of writing styles. Sometimes it’s fun - just a check-in with my blogging friends. Sometimes (much more rarely) it’s a serious piece of writing that I’ve chewed on for a while. The imeediacy of the feedback that I get for pieces like that are helpful to my writing. of course, the immediacy of feedback I get to the informal stuff and requests for sympathy, sharing of joys, silly bits etc. are so valuable in another way, the way of building community. Had anyone told me a year ago that I’d be doing this, and loving it, I’d have been shocked. The experience of joining together with the RevGals for our two books of devotionals pushed my writing into a new place, which was just wonderful.
Besides which, you’ve all taught me so much about being a woman of faith, and being an ordained woman. I’ve been blessed by the blogging!
I agree with willsmama’s first comment. That’s it in a nutshell. The only writing I was doing before blogging was a spoof departmental newsletter called the Restroom Reader. I know I can write, but I never made the time for it before. I also know that a lot of my writing could be so much better if I would polish it instead of hitting “publish post” as soon as I dash off the first draft.
But that’s ok.
I like this medium. I am awesomely surprised that I have ‘met’ new and interesting and excitingly like-minded people as a result of blogging.
I’d love to write a book. But I’ve been saying that since the third grade. Right now, I’m happy with blogging.
these comments are so good to read. I’m glad we blog. I’m glad we are community. I’d love to see some of us in print someday - and I’m realistic enough to realise that some of us will fall off the blogging bandwaggon at some point - but I’m glad we’re here at this time and this place.
The writings of so many of you - and your lives- has impacted me! For that I praise God!
Well, I can understand Sarah Hepola’s reasons for stopping. I like blogging. I know I make a lot of errors, especially when I am in a hurry, it is late at night, or the kids are a distraction. But it has also challenged me to use my creative side, and my thinking side. I think my sermons have even improved since I started bloggin. And I too like the community. I like to read other people’s thoughts and ideas. It has helped me being a Pastor, mom, wife, and person to read your lives, your stories, your thoughts.
I’ve thought about this quite a bit. Blogging does take time away from other kinds of writing I do. But I am not ready to dismiss blogging as a genre; that is, to say that the writing I do on my blog is less valuable than other kinds of writing I do. When I publish a poem in a literary journal, probably about seven people read it. When I post something on my blog, about 600 people see it that day. So it’s hard to say that the poem is somehow more important as a type of writing ….
I feel that it helps me as an introvert to find a voice, that I would otherwise hesitate to exercise. But I am aware it becomes an all consuming distraction
Good, good, good post. I’m pondering such things too. Blogging helps me write more than a sermon every week. I find that it helps with spiritual reflection in general. But that novel/screenplay still spins in my head.