If you’ve spent any time in the authosphere, you know that the number one commandment to writers is : “Write!” It’s not “Tweet!” or “Youtube!” or “Eat cupcakes!”
But reading blogs is okay, right? There’s all this knowledge and information, and interaction with other writers and readers. What could be better?
The truth is, blogs are the most insidious, conniving, malicious plague to ever be unleashed upon unsuspecting authors.
“Wait,” you say. “You’re exaggerating. It’s just fifteen minutes a day or so.”
Well, I have story for you. Over the past few months, I’ve been working on other projects besides writing, and that means I confined what writing time I did have, I confined to actually putting words on the page. That means a whole bunch of blog posts to get caught up on. And here’s the problem: If it was just me going to various addresses in my favorites bar, I wouldn’t have an issue. I’d just have given up on most of the old posts. But I have this wonderful little thing called Google Reader, which keeps track of my blog subscriptions. When I opened it this morning, it listed 432 unread blog posts. 432. I decided to take Anne Lamott’s advice and get through them post by post. Instead of doing any writing today whatsoever, I read around 300 blogs posts in 4 hours. And tomorrow, thanks to links and “round-up” posts, I have about 300 more.
And most of them have been very interesting. I’m glad I read them. But it did take up 4 hours I could have used for actual writing. Things like this have happened before, and I know they’ll happen again.
Maybe I’m just obsessive. I didn’t have to read all those posts, right? But Google made it so easy. Just point and click. That 432 just sitting there, taunting me. “You can’t read all these. No way. As if. You’re weak. You can read a 600 page novel in a few hours, but you’ll never be able to catch up on your blogroll. You’ll just have to look at me every day and know what a failure you are. Go eat some chocolate cheesecake. Come back in a few hours. I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.