To Blog or Not to Blog...

... that was the question.

As I was completing my first novel and thinking the platform I'd create for myself as an author, I went back and forth about whether I should start a blog.

I'll be honest, my first few forays into blogging withered after awhile. Years ago, my friend Toni and I started a book blog, which consisted almost exclusively of book reviews. It was a way for us to keep track of what we'd read, to compare notes on our shared reading experiences, and to share some great titles with our (admittedly very small) readership. We were committed to it for awhile, but eventually we discovered Goodreads and then Bookstagram, and our blogging fizzled out.

I also had a brief brush with cake decorating, which naturally resulted in the creation of another blog. That, too, fell by the wayside after awhile. In my early days of motherhood, there was also a blog about natural parenting, but after awhile I found that I couldn't keep up with it (because, you know -- kids).

So why now?

This past November, my oldest came home from 3rd grade excited about starting the NaNoWriMo student program with his writing enrichment class at school. For those who don't know, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is an organization that promotes the daily practice of writing. In the month of November, adult participants are tasked with a lofty goal -- writing the first 50,000 words of a novel in a span 30 days (kids in the student program can set their own goal). On a whim, I decided to challenge myself to sign up for NaNo along with him, a somewhat serendipitous decision that ultimately led to my first novel, Pleasant Bay (working title).

The months of November and December were a feverish blur of writing. It was a little slow at first, mostly because my writing "muscles" were so rusty. But before long, my writing gained traction, and soon, the novel was at the forefront of my mind almost all the time. Scenes were playing themselves out in my dreams. I was hearing dialogue between my characters as I was going about my day, then rushing to the computer to type them out, my mind moving faster than my fingers could. I was sitting down at Starbucks for writing sessions, churning out sometimes a few thousand words in a span of a few hours. It was a rush, a high unrivaled by any experience I'd had in my life -- I felt like I was doing what I was meant to do. As trite as it may sound, it truly felt like a transcendent journey.

And then, I finished my first draft.

There was, of course, a huge sense of pride and accomplishment in that. But there was also a sense of loss. My work with the novel was nowhere near complete -- my first draft was a hot mess of disorganized chapters, missing links, and some truly cringeworthy prose. I still had a lot, and I mean A LOT, of work ahead of me, but I had passed that initial, intense phase of creation. Now, my daily writing habit needed to transform into a daily rewriting and editing habit.

Don't get me wrong, I love editing. I probably love it more than most writers. Maybe it's the English teacher in me -- my desire to wield the red pen doesn't stop at my own writing. I relish in the feeling of doubling back on my work over and over, polishing until it shines. There's something satisfying about adding that chapter you didn't even know you needed, and suddenly not being able to imagine the book without it. There's even something pretty gratifying about chopping off full paragraphs of extraneous text that just aren't meant to be there anymore.

But still... entering the editing phase meant losing the writing with abandon phase that I'd come to find so intoxicating. Writing the first draft is like falling in love -- can't eat, can't sleep, can't think of anything but your story and characters. With editing and revising, the honeymoon period is over and you're in it for the long haul. Your story has become familiar and comfortable, your characters old friends. Now, you're putting in the real work -- taking this initial fever dream and turning it into something that is actually worthy of being read by other people. It's necessary work, important work, even rewarding work -- but it doesn't satisfy that innate desire to create in the same way that writing the first draft does.

And therein lies my why, my reason for starting a blog now. I've learned that, relatively speaking, writers spend much MUCH more time in the planning, editing and revising, and marketing phases than they do in the initial writing phases. But writers also want to write -- need to write.

At first I thought that a blog might be a waste of time -- time that might be better spent working on my current project or planning for my next one. But then I thought about other vocations. Do chefs not cook for their friends and family outside of work, experimenting with new recipes? Do professional athletes not spend countless hours training outside of their games, conditioning their bodies? Do musicians not rehearse for hours upon hours, honing their skills between performances? Everyone needs a lower-stakes opportunity to practice their craft in preparation for "the big game" -- which, for me, is the novel. The blog gives a platform for daily practice with a small audience available for feedback. It's a place where I can experience that thrilling feeling of creation in between first drafts.

Readers, thank you for joining me on this new venture.