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Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Writers' envy 

Spent the afternoon setting up batch jobs for the continuing Stress Test. (As scary as it sounds, this is actually not a very stressful activity - busy, but something I can do on autopilot.) In between I skimmed through the Blogs of Note to admire the work of fellow bloggers like the ranting Waiter and bread coffee chocolate yoga addict Fortune Elkins.

Occassionally I also visit one of the meta-blogs like kottke or slashdot, though they are less about the quality of writing and more about the news commentary aspect.

I could read these things all day. I often wonder how much of a sea change this blogging thing is in people's perception of writers. It seems that the people with the best stories are not the dreamers, but the doers; the ones who put in eight hours a day and go home to write about it.

I admit, I'm also a little jealous of those who, having found fame in the blogosphere, go on to get recognition in the "real world" as well. I don't post links or trackbacks on my blog; this has been, and always will be, a personal journal. It's "about" pretty much anything I want it to be; it's not honed and polished to reflect a particular theme, the way successful blogs are meant to be. Occasionally this will turn into a virtual photo album on my latest junket; other times I'll be blathering on about classic cars. In spirit, it's still very close to what my open diary was years ago. It's both comforting and disquieting.

Comments:
you're too kind. really.

here's a rare moment when i recommend we take g. stein's notion to heart: "we write for ourselves, and others."

be your own bad self 24/7/365 and write that. this will in the long-term bring more "success" and "recognition" than the flatter "commercial" style of the a-list blogger, who seem at most to aspire to mere journalism.

whereas the best blogs, imvho, aspire to the montaigne, pepys or mme. de sevigne mode.

in a year, who goes back to read even works of great journalistic writers -- short of say, homer bigart -- hmm? while today we are still reading montaigne, sevigne, and pepys. their writing remains as fresh, personal, and exhilarating as if put to paper this morning.
 
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