I never actually intended on becoming a “blogger”. And when I use the term blogger, I’m utilizing the widely accepted definition that states blogging is the regular journaling of day-to-day events complete with social commentary, an on-line diary if you will. The original purpose for my blog was two-fold…provide another avenue to express myself creatively by writing on a consistent basis, and secondly to learn as much as I could about the craft and the publishing business from the writing community. My grand scheme was designed to improve my chances of a creating unique material worthy of representation by an agent and eventually finding its way into print. Later on, I allowed it to morph into a pseudo-platform, a way to establish and cultivate an on-line presence for my eventual emergence as a published author. In that vein, I adopted some of tools along the way designed to increase site-traffic and help solidify my standing in the blogosphere. Although outwardly I may have appeared to have fallen into a pure blogger mode, my true goal remained intact. Blogging has always been a means to an end for me.
What I have come to understand, albeit reluctantly, is that the path to improving my prose and seeing my book in print is more protracted than I first imagined, so much so that the time and energy to see it through to fruition is beyond my current means. This realization has been creeping up on me for quite a while. Like many a wayward prizefighter the actual knockout blow came several months ago but I’ve been sleep-walking in the ring for a few rounds, throwing listless punches until I succumbed to my limitations. I’ve pried open my eyes regarding certain hard facts. I watch what I eat and exercise regularly, but I’ll never weigh what I did in college again. I love to hum and belt out songs that make me happy, but I’ll never be a singer. I love to partake in all kinds of competitive sports, but I’m not an athlete. And I have written a couple of books and short stories, but I’m not a novelist. Why? Because I’m not willing to make the sacrifices necessary to take me to where I need to be as a writer, and I’m comfortable with that. That doesn’t mean it hurts any less. It’s a special kind of pain when your dreams die, even worse when you’re the one holding the pillow over their face. Will I ever be ready, or able, to make those commitments? “Never say never”, I’m always saying, but for now up on the shelf it goes.
With that decision made, the purpose of this blog is now null and void. I could continue doing what I have been for the last couple months, but the truth is my heart wouldn’t be in it. I’ve been talking-the-talk, but not walking-the-walk because my feet ache from trying to keep up. But make no mistake, this is not goodbye. I have formed some tremendous friendships during my time here and I’ll continue to follow each of your progress, although in lurker mode. The reason why I’ve stayed in the ring as long as I have, unconscious on my feet, fooling myself into believing I could find the time to be a writer, was because I couldn’t face losing the relationships I’ve found here.
I debated (still am actually) long and hard about whether it was better to post a final thought, or simply fade away. If you’re reading this you know how that struggle turned out. I’m officially setting free all of my 702 followers and offer them my heartfelt thanks for making the past two years so memorable. Good luck to you all!
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