The net is full of orphan blogs, still alive and accessible, but abandoned… Their creators each wrote and published one last article, usually one as lively and informative as those that preceded it, and then apparently never came back. No final post saying, “It’s been real and it’s been fun but it hasn’t been real fun,” or anything. Just… Nothing.
I have no idea what happens to a writer to make him or her just walk away from a blog that has a following without giving those followers an explanation.
Presumably, they reached a point in their life where writing their blog was no longer fulfilling, and so they simply decided to stop writing it. Or maybe other obligations arose which left them without the time to invest in their blog. I don’t know.
What I do know is, as I was sitting here earlier this afternoon, working on this week’s review, a harsh thought came unbidden into my head:
I don’t want to do this anymore.
The truth of the matter is, for quite some time I have viewed writing these weekly appraisals as an obligation rather than as a pleasure. In one sense, I guess the fact that I’ve kept on writing them anyway is a sign of professionalism, and I should be happy about that.
After all, no less an icon than Agatha Christie famously said:
“There was a moment when I changed from an amateur to a professional. I assumed the burden of a profession, which is to write even when you don’t want to, don’t much like what you’re writing, and aren’t writing particularly well.”
In case it’s not obvious, let me point out that I am not comparing my writing skills to those of the late, great master of crime fiction. There is no comparison. For one thing, she was paid, and paid well, for her efforts.
A few months ago I took a hiatus because of problems I was having related to my sleep apnea. Those problems have not gone away, and there is a strong likelihood that the desire to not do this anymore is a manifestation of the effects of that disorder.
Which makes the feeling no less real. Nevertheless, I have no intention to quit writing here. Yes, you may show up here some day and discover it’s been a year since my last post and no explanation. But that won’t happen soon.
Unless something terribly bad and beyond my control intervenes.
I have loved writing ever since I was a young teenager, writing crappy, scandalously sexual science fiction stories longhand in a notebook in the cramped, dust mote-filled attic of the small house my mom and I lived in. (Unlike a bedroom, mom can’t walk, unexpected and unannounced, into an attic!)
This blog is my primary writing outlet at the moment, and I’ve no intention of giving it up any time soon.
However, this week’s review is not going to happen. Not today, anyway. There is not time to finish it and get it uploaded on time, and I am not going to sit here writing until 8 or 9 PM to finish it.
Pay me $60K a year to write, and I’ll gladly sit here until midnight, if need be, to get it done. 🙂
Thanks for reading this.
Al Evans
Wood Village, Oregon
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