100--It's about Quantity not Quality

This is my 100th blog post. I didn't know this until Blogger.com told me about 15 seconds ago. I can't say it is special in any way other than that. However,  I guess it's somewhat of a milestone in that I've sat down 100 times to write....something.

I started writing about running. I have realized there's only so much one can write about running. I still write about running, but I venture into other areas, such as the meaning of life, my pets, my kidneys, documentaries...I know that in order to have a solid blog with lots of followers you have to focus on one area--like cooking every recipe in Julia Child's cookbook in a year. I don't do that. Some people make a living off of their blogs but I am for certain I will never do that. I'm not focused enough. I'm also not forward enough to promote my blog.

So why continue to have a blog? I've always liked to write. As a child, I showed almost an abnormal desire and need to write. It's one of the quirkier things about me growing up. As a grown-up, I have plenty of opportunities to write for my job. In fact, I have many published journal articles that detail research studies. However, that's a very different kind of writing. Don't get me wrong--I do enjoy the writing I do for work. Yet, there is something about being to write about whatever I want in whatever format I want that is appealing.

Writing has always come easily to me. I'm not saying I am a fantastic writer. I know many people who write much better than myself. Yet, I often sit down to write and realize (after what seems like only a few moments) that I have compiled pages and pages. Is this quality writing? Sometimes. Even when it's not quality writing, I seem to gain something from it though. It's an enjoyable activity for me, even if my strength is quantity and not always quality.

I started writing at an early age. As a youngster (maybe 5???), I started a series of novels about the Kit Family. The Kit Family was a fictional family with, if I remember correctly, about 9 children. I wrote about their escapades: new school years, the birth of a new family member, buying a new car....I should add that I use the word novel very loosely here. I think each was about 10-12 pages. Yet, it was definitely a series. Not bad for a little kid.

I also remember taking on a collaborator when I was maybe in 2nd or 3rd grade, my friend Jennifer. We were going to write a book together. My dad, who was a good sport, volunteered to take our little book to work to laminate and bind it. I don't remember the topic of this particular book. Jennifer came to spend the night and we planned to work on the book. This was to be a working sleepover. However, she seemed to want to play, have fun, and she didn't seem dedicated to working on the project. I was annoyed by this. I'm sure this was the last time we collaborated. I really didn't have many friends as a child. 

I also remember that I did something odd in the 5th grade. For 15-30 minutes before the bus came to pick us up at the end of the day, we were required to read. Some kids in our class didn't want to read. I was okay with reading. A few of the kids complained and said they didn't want to read. Finally, our teacher snapped, "Read a book or WRITE a book!" There it was. Another option. I could write a book. So I started writing a book. (I actually don't think my teacher meant to give that as an option. I think it was just something he snapped because he was annoyed.)

I remember the book I decided to write. It was about a set of female triplets. Each had a hobby that they really excelled at. One was a softball player. One was a dancer. The other...I have no idea what the other was...it's not important. The "plot" (if you will) was about how they each had a very important activity (a recital, a game, etc.) and all of these activities fell on the same day. The whole book was about how they would negotiate this day. This was before we did everything on a computer. It was about 200 pages front and back, handwritten.

Somewhere along the line (between 8th grade and college, I guess), I stopped writing fiction. Maybe I lost my imagination. I don't have the desire anymore to make up stories. When I write now, I would rather write about observations of real life. I don't know why this changed. I'm not even sure if I'd be able to write fiction at this point. Is that just a product of adulthood? Obviously, other adults write fiction, so I guess maybe it's just an interaction of adulthood and me. Or the evolution of my hobby of writing.

I used to think blogging was incredibly self-indulgent. I would roll my eyes when people would keep a blog to discuss all of the details of their families, what they made for dinner, etc. My thought was generally to question why these individuals thought others cared so much about the details of their lives. First of all, I have to admit that sometimes other people do care. People you went to high school with are curious (even if it is for all the wrong reasons...particularly to prove to themselves they they did better than you  in life even if they are still living in their parents' basement). Your mom cares. She gets frustrated you won't call her back so instead she settles for reading your blog, and she really does care what you made for dinner.

On the other hand, I have to wonder how much of blogging is for others and how much is for the writer. Is blogging just the diary of 2011? (Do teen girls have hand written pink diaries anymore?) Of course, diaries were intended to be private, and blogging isn't private. Were diaries really private though? Didn't our parents read them when we were at summer camp? Mine had a lock but I think I kept the key attached anyway. There is, of course, an aspect of self impression management in blogging. Individuals present themselves in a certain way. It's no different than Facebook. My favorite thing about Facebook is probably analyzing the self impression management process people use before they post things like "LUV my huband (sic)" or "TGIF!!!! Woot! Woot!" (I have been struggling to figure out why everyone needs to use Woot! Woot! as an expression of enthusiasm recently. I'm also not sure why the hell it annoys me so damn much.) Then again, I was a psych major as an undergrad. If only I had know this would serve me so well.

So 100 blog entries. Woot! Woot!