As some of you may know, I started this blog in January of 2019.
In the first year of blogging here, I was a very very sporadic poster, and never really stuck to a schedule or ‘niche,’ if you will. I had no idea on earth as to what I was doing; most of my posts were wrap-ups (which weren’t at all great . . .), and the few posts I did have which weren’t didn’t have much direction or meaning. I had no post headers, or graphics, and while this isn’t by no means a bad thing, my terribly-written posts didn’t make up for my lack of visual aesthetic.
But if you read the title of this post, you’re probably wondering what exactly the above has to do with the title, and to give that answer: along with the lackluster blog content I created, nothing about my posts felt ‘me’ at all. I tried to use a blogging voice that wasn’t mine, I was terribly-joke heavy even though my humor was so, so forced—and at that, completely missed the mark because I wasn’t near to being funny—and even while I wasn’t prolific with posts, I prioritized quantity over quality with my posts and would write them just to get the post out, rather than being content and proud with what I was posting. Even though blogging was something I wanted to partake seriously, but still purely for fun, I always felt sapped of motivation to actually write any posts. Writing the most simple descriptions of books took so much time because I was continually writing in this voice that wasn’t at all me, and rather a voice I thought would appeal to others.
But it did completely different. The amount of interaction I was getting with my posts were so low (and reading back at my posts, I don’t know how I would have thought of something genuine to comment with), and how were my posts supposed to be interesting to others if I didn’t find them interesting myself?
I don’t really know why I was doing any of this either – surely I would have known after a while everything about my posts weren’t working for me, or for others. Of course, blogging shouldn’t be something done solely for the pleasure of others, but I think if there is no appreciation or positive end result to one’s content, then what’s the point . . . ? I feel as if I’m being too harsh towards myself, after all, I did just start to blog on a whim with no previous knowledge or experience with blogging.
But also, I would like to talk about producing content deemed as high-effort, or just to but it simply, ‘good.’ Calling something that is obviously extremely subjective; I could call let’s say, Sadie by Courtney Summers a good book while someone else could consider it the worst book they’ve ever read. But when I say ‘good,’ I want to give it the meaning of content which is most of the time, high-effort, and personally treasured by the creator. All my posts from last year were neither. I even said it myself once in one of my posts last year (as a joke, but looking back, it does very well stand true), that I wasn’t proud of any of my content, and my posts were the complete opposite of high effort. I don’t think I had one original idea throughout the 30 posts I had, and the average word count of my posts in 2019 was a little higher than 1,000, while this year it’s over 1,300.
And when I was recently reading over all my old posts, it felt like I was reading the same thing over and over again – making goals to read an impossible amount of books per month because I couldn’t come to terms with the fact I’m very much a slow reader, promising I’d post more every single time only to do the exact opposite, and writing with this voice that looked as if it was a completely different person.
Coming back to blogging March of this year I wanted change these things about my posts, to be as authentic as allowed and put effort into all of my posts, and when I started blogging again in April I think I’ve been doing well with that. Even though I’ve only posted 9 times since coming back, and this will be my 10th post, I love every single one of my posts this year and I hope the feeling continues. I’ve privated pretty much all of my older posts because as I said previously, they feel nothing like myself and I’m not proud of them at all. If I have a post idea, but I don’t think I’ll be able to talk about it in a way where it doesn’t seem forced, I leave it alone. I’ve been posting consistently, and aside from quantitative aspects I’m content with the quality of my posts.
This post both feels like what I’m trying to say comes across well, but it also seems terribly rambly, so I’d love to know what you think regarding this topic! It seems as if when we start blogging it’s very hard to pinpoint our blogging voice and find exactly what message we are conveying generally in our blogs (though I haven’t been blogging for long). This is something I’ve been sitting on ever since March so it’s so freeing to actually be discussing it now, and I hope you understand what I’m trying to say!
Does this post feel rambly? I really hope not. Do you have a serious approach in your writing voice, or a more jokeful one? What’s a recent book you’ve read with a strong writing voice?