Tag Archives: Writers Resources

When blogging: feel inward, look outward.

My life is falling apart. My cat naps on my keyboard. I have a new lover (don’t tell my husband). My best friend died. I just climbed Everest. I live in a deep, dark hole and can’t imagine I’ll ever climb out.

Are you interested yet? Since everyone faces similar situations, you’d think they’d be great topics to blog about.

They are–depending on the execution.

We should blog about our personal concerns, our personal interests. But why would anyone care, just because we have some shared experiences?

Picture your blog reader as a listener. You’re in a coffee shop, talking. Does the listener lean forward, eyes on yours, waiting breathlessly for your next words? Or does the listener’s eyes glaze over? Does he or she sidle away, glad of the lucky escape from someone with such dedicated self-involvement?

I don’t mean we should step back to the point of being impersonal or cold-hearted. Blogs benefit from the self-revelation of the writer: the revelation of how the writer experiences life. Readers read to find a personal connection with the writer.

But we need to extend a hand to readers, not huddle in a private locked room. We need neither rescue nor a pat on the head. To be understood by other living humans like ourselves, we need to expand beyond ourselves.

How do we find this balance between the personal and the universal?

We should try to establish kinship.

When we blog about our lives, we should try to include the readers. Not by our topics alone, but also by our intent.

Though most bloggers are not fiction writers, the approach is similar to a fiction-writing technique. The self-revelation of a blog illustrates the blogger’s journey. As bloggers, we can use an ancient fictional tool: the hero’s journey.

As described by Christopher Vogler in The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers, at the end of the quest the hero of the story can bring back what he or she has found and offer it to people, to those who listen to the hero’s story. What the hero discovers is vitally important to them. It will make their own lives better.

Write your personal journey for your blog, but bring what you’ve discovered on your journey back to your readers. Offer your discovery to them, knowing how valuable it is.

Hold on tight to what you feel inside, yes, but express it while looking outward.

As you write, be aware of the strangers there with you. They are strangers, but they want to be interested, sympathetic strangers. They’re looking for a connection with another human being. They need that connection as much as you do.

Look those strangers in the eye. Reach for their hands. You’re about to give them something priceless.

By S.J. Driscoll

World enough and time

A casual acquaintance once explained how she managed to have the time and resources to paint.

“Painting was my passion,” she said. “I was pretty good, too. Then I had kids, and with my family, my husband, my job, I didn’t paint for years. The kids are grown, I’m retired and my husband encourages me. He even built me a studio. So I paint.”

She shrugged and turned away. “But it’s all gone now.”

That was years ago. As I write this, I feel the same shudder as when she told me.

Yesterday I spent hours looking for contracts for a couple of old published stories. Instead, I found boxes—the kind that holds ten reams of paper—boxes full of my words. Finished and unfinished stories and novels, notes on stories and novels, notes on writing classes and techniques, charts, lists… As I came across each item, I remembered clearly how and when I worked on it. I remembered each idea.

Only a few ideas grew into completed stories and only a few of those stories were published. Why?

Here are a couple of possibilities:

My job’s one deadline after another and I resent carrying that over to my writing.

During my window of opportunity when my kids were little and I wasn’t working full time, my stories began to get published. Then life happened: family member’s serious illness, divorce, demanding new job, bought/lost house, two cross-country moves and more.

These feel more like excuses than reasons, though. Some people overcome much greater difficulties and succeed.

At least I haven’t given up. I’m close. Work and study have improved my writing tremendously.

I’m doing something wrong.

What are you doing right—or wrong?

By S.J. Driscoll