What does your mom do for a living?

My three-year-old is sitting on my lap, typing into a blank Word doc. He pauses every now and then, puts his head in his hands and sighs, “damnit,” then deletes everything he’s typed.

I’m totally winning at this.

As soon as he puts his hands over his eyes, sighs, “dagnabbit,” and then goes to get a snack, my parenting is complete.

 

 

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Blog paralysis

After attending three days of workshops and lectures and panels on writing at the BlogHer conference last week in Chicago, I have a case of blog paralysis.

Not writer’s block. I’m writing plenty and have gobs and gobs to say.

But I can’t let the posts fly like I once did. I used to dash off my thoughts and post them, unedited, whenever something occurred to me. Silly bits of my day, desperate situations that need heroic efforts around the world…everything.

Now I have several drafts ping ponging around my laptop, all crammed full of thoughts but falling flat. Not good enough, not insightful enough, not powerful enough or fast enough to make a mark in the world. Flaccid, flabby writing several days late and several thousand dollars short, quite unworthy of the brilliant writing I read and dissected and aspired to while surrounded by thousands of bloggers in a convention center turned, for a weekend, into a giant writing seminar.

So I’m dashing off a thought, unedited, as it comes to me while I wade through the notes of finding a niche and writing unvarnished truth and publishing and knowing my audience and finding the right place for my voice and reading as much as possible and…breathlessly unpacking the weighted baggage of my post-trip brain, I’m just going to post this.

It’s Saturday night. Nobody reads posts Saturday night anyway, right? So an imperfect, unedited, unpolished, rambling post that doesn’t further my brand or my craft or my voice or my platform is just fine.

It has to be.

Baby steps, y’all. Baby steps.

 

Now even my spam is insulting me

I post often about awesome spam, befuddling spam, and pathetic spam.

This is a new high in spamming. Behold, the (poorly written) smackdown spam:

“The following time I read a weblog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as a lot as this one. I imply, I know it was my choice to learn, but I really thought youd have something fascinating to say. All I hear is a bunch of whining about one thing that you would fix if you happen to werent too busy on the lookout for attention.”

I’m pretty sure, if I parse the terrible English properly, that said spammer just called me narcissistic, disappointing, incompetent, and whiny.

Hey, when did my ex and my relatives start writing spam?