Last September, being inspired by Mr. Mud Duck and his daily podcast, I decided to try blogging. For decades, I’d lost my voice through layers of censuring. Subjects weren’t to be broached, let alone written about for the world to read. Tethered, my imagination strained on a very tight chain. Writing wasn’t fun, pondering all grammar and punctuation and finally settled on a few approved subjects. By time I wrote the first word, I was exhausted and any good ideas had left the building. Stifling.
This creative void was of my own doing. Living with a Dr. of Psychology is intimidating. Two competitive perfectionists make for lively conversations, each reaching for the college word of the day. Deep meaning can be lost in those outer branches of academia. Sadly, some days were decorated with dangling participles with not an creative thought in the bunch.
As a young writer, titles escaped me. Now, they are fluid, flying like long, string-y banners in my brain, each one on a flagpole rich with ideas. I attribute this creativity to a lifetime of teaching, writing, and reading. To release them every day is a delicious activity that starts my day with a thrill that’s un-explainable. A desire to create is the first thing a successful blogger needs.
A wealth of information awaits anyone with time, a computer, and a curious mind. There are helpful and free webinars on Kindle Direct Publishing. Inspirational writers host free talks in which they tell their stories of success. To find success, it helps to visualize what it looks like. A favorite children’s author of mine is Kate DiCamillo. She has a delightful interview in which she talks about going into her studio with her coffee in the morning to write. Now, that’s me!
I googled “Writing Blogs”, and immediately, came up with a top ten list for sights. I picked the number one company at the time and started. Bluehost and WordPress have been wonderful and free. The little succulent on black was a fitting pre-made template for a new widow. Yes, there is a sandwich in there somewhere, it came with the page and couldn’t be removed. I like an occasional sandwich, so it remained. There were boxes in which to put my name and I filled in the blanks. Within a few hours, the page was complete and I started writing.
Find a time when you are creative. For me, it is 3 AM. Not conducive to a family life, but perfect for me. I keep a journal handy at all times to write down random topics and ideas for the days when only Cheryl, the tree is an available topic. I write when the words are itching to spring from my fingers. Mid-day, the fingers are deep in soil, and can’t be bothered with something like typing. Then, choose a schedule. Not every writer writes every single day. You may binge write and then take two days off. Whatever works, you need a schedule that you stick to. Goals on which to plant your flag.
I write poetry in long hand only. Fluid QWERTY typing allows me to have a stream of thoughts that race onto the computer screen. I write on a desktop, finding the keyboard on my iPad to small for the Germanic fingers. The phone is not even an option for this blind woman. I need backlit paragraphs, and even then, I fail at proofreading most days. A healing from the formally stuffy perfectionist correcting everything in red pen.
I’ve dabbled with Google Analytics, purchasing some extra programs totaling under $300. Everything that I’ve done has been simple, just taking a little time to learn the system. I’ve focused on the creative side, and not so much on the nuts and bolts of what I could do to monetize. Marketing will be my next step as I go along this journey. Social media is something I’ve avoided my entire life, but I may need to develop a presence. A monthly newsletter is another necessary project.
The payoff for me is getting sweet comments from readers telling me that I said something meaningful to them on a certain day. I enjoy looking up reader locations and finding that I have some faithful readers in Fernley, Carson City, Provo, Boydton, Port Angeles, and Cambria, just to name a few. Knowing that people are finding this the least bit interesting makes writing all the more fulfilling and fun for me.
For a time, it didn’t seem that I’d ever write anything again. I allowed that to happen. Now, I could write a novel about the phone book and it wouldn’t be half-bad. As I find more expressive courage each day, my daily observations have more meaning, while my writing gets richer. There’s just nothing better than that.
Writing is a friend when my house is quiet. It’s a voice when I need someone to speak to. My words will remain long after I have gone, showcasing a complicated woman that could be quite difficult at times. Some words will be too racy for paper. Other’s a bit mundane. But, words will keep coming. Stay tuned.