I’ve never been the most disciplined of bloggers, but when Jane Bradley wrote about regaining one’s blogging mojo, I felt compelled to dust off my WordPress account and put electronic ink to equally electronic paper.
One of the reasons I’ve never been much more than a sporadic blogger is that when I write about ~issues I generally do it for someone else, whether paid or unpaid. So I write a fortnightly column about historical fiction for For Books Sake and review music, TV and art at The F Word and theatre for Broadway World, and sell my wares to big names like The Guardian and Diva far less frequently than I ought to. I feel like if I have something to say, I should use it as an opportunity to build up my portfolio and get my voice heard instead of bleating into the ether from a blog I rarely update.
Another reason is that I don’t have a particular niche, unless ‘stuff that is generally feminist and/or queer-friendly’ counts as a niche. I’m too scattershot, too easily distracted. I’m basically the human equivalent of a kitten with ADD, as I discovered when I made the mistake of hanging decorations above my desk before Christmas. Hours were lost to my attempts to self-hypnotise by batting a dangling silver bauble back on forth in front of me. I could have used it to instil some self-discipline in myself, or at least give up biscuits. Such a wasted opportunity would have reduced Paul McKenna to tears.
I’ve decided that this blog will embrace my varied interests rather than sticking to one subject. If I’m going to have a personal brand, as apparently we all do these days, let it be ‘defies categorisation’. Or possibly ‘has really great earrings’. Expect to see reviews of films, TV, theatre and museum exhibitions (when I want to fool you into thinking I’m highbrow), meditations on what it means to have a burgeoning writing career and a day job, and the odd rambling treatise on the state of modern feminism. I’m thinking of subtitling it ‘all the coverage that no-one else wanted.’
I loooooooooove you. Mostly