I started thinking about writing a blog a few years ago and was daunted by the thought of having to write something for an unknown audience. For some reason I hadn’t thought this one through very well. After all, wasn’t I writing novels – albeit unpublished as yet. Maybe there was more anonymity in being the author of a novel? Was it the immediacy of the review and comments that worried me? Or was it the way Life Writing exposes me as a person in a very different way to me as a fiction writer?
So tentatively I began.
I needed to be writing something meaningful – to me at least – and have some thoughts on life to be aired for a wider audience. In articulating these ideas I have found the ideas gained clarity and the reasons for some of my actions or in-actions have become more discernible.
So now after four posts I can say … I am a blogger.
A blogger of what though? I have meandered between musings on why magpies swoop, how lavender heals, wild weekends and asylum seekers. Perhaps the string of thought that ties these together is a need to offer my ideas on how the world could be a better place, and to voice the concerns I have for a world swept along in consumerism and materialism.
But that might be just the things that are on my mind a lot this year. Everything must evolve, and change is inevitable. I see my blog changing with my moods, my insights, my travels and my learnings.