Blogs make me happy to be a child of the Internet era. I’d always thought of being a writer, at least recreationally, but I found that there were two major obstacles in my way: a lack of focused discipline that would allow me to write more than 600 words at a sitting; and a desire to write, but not be read.
Thanks to the miracle of WordPress and our warm cultural embrace of chronic ADD, I can now comfortably write without an 800-page book as my endgame. In fact, this post is probably too long already. Whatever.
The latter, well…I don’t know.
It’s been a recurring theme with me. It took me a full year of Facebook membership to post regularly. I have no idea why I hesitated so deeply to express myself in status updates, not that they particularly illuminate the corners of my soul. My last update was about Girl Scout Cookies.
But I don’t know why I want to write now. Maybe, at the ripe age of 28, I’ve matured and grown out of the idea that saying nothing and hearing nothing negative in return is the best option. I don’t think I have; I’m not a water-off-a-duck’s-back kind of person. And while I hope/think that I have something interesting to say, maybe I don’t.
This blog won’t be about me, though. It’ll be about what I’m most interested in – movies, television, entertainment. I know that there are roughly six kajillion blogs and websites that cover the same ground, and I don’t know that I offer a fresh new perspective. When I contemplated blogging, I thought about themes and creative angles; how to stand out and write about something totally original and untapped. But I kept coming back to the same place, because I find that nothing in this world captures me this way. I daydream in movies; I soak in the joy and the angst. I obsess over the minutiae, and I feel profound admiration for those who so move me and surprise me that I don’t want to separate my world from theirs.
There’s a wonderful line in the first Harry Potter novel in which Dumbledore says, “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” It’s one of my favorite quotes, and yet it makes me profoundly sad, because I can’t help it. I dwell on the dreams of others. But my consolation is that even though I lose myself for a while, I usually find my way back knowing a little more than I did before about the marvelous complexity of the human condition, about the remarkable power of imagination, and about the person that I want to be.
So, actually, I’m wrong. This blog will be about me. Maybe you’ll like it, maybe you’ll never come back, and maybe the only ones visiting next month will be my parents, my roommates and a tiny, loyal band of Facebook friends. And if you don’t like it, well…don’t tell me. Seriously, you’ll probably make me cry. But not as hard as WALL-E does.