There are missing posts out there. I know where they live–in notebooks and text messages. They will appear here over time, but the importance of getting them here right away has faded. This is largely due to the fact that practically nobody reads the blog. For me the writing of the post and the application of ten minutes of my life minimum each day to the cause is enough for me to be satisfied with the writing. The posting itself has been problematic and has become less important as my hits dwindle down to one or two a day. That brings me to the question of why do I do it at all? Some of it is accountability. Some of it ego. The better part of it is this idea of having a presence on the web and a history that goes with that presence so that I may one day look back on this and say, ‘I made something.’ 2614 straight days of blogging is no small feat. Who knows the number count when I shed this mortal coil.
Okay that may have been over the top. In a more realistic and down to earth sense, the blog keeps me grounded. It lets me know that I am a writer first and I am writing for an audience. I can forget that on occasion and I can go in the other direction and think of nothing more than the audience, losing my sense of story and joy in the need to create something for a specific type of reader.
10 minutes is really not enough and once it becomes enough I know that means I’m burned out and need to do serious soul searching to get back in the writer’s mind.