I have shied away from the idea for some time. Alternatively inspired, intimidated, embarrassed, and excited by the concept of putting my thoughts and opinion on The Web for Anyone to read.
But, the idea keeps coming back, and I’ve decided it’s time to stop batting it away. So here I am. The big question, though, is what’s it about? I don’t want to be a “mommy blogger,” though there are many talented ladies who do this kind of writing with skill and humor. I am a mommy and a blogger, and I won’t ever promise not to blog about the mommy business, but part of my goal here is to carve out something for and from myself. And when I say “myself” I mean the part that thinks about more than coloring with crayons and what to make for dinner. You know, that Shannon person who loves to write and read and watch movies and listen to music and drink beer and talk to friends. I suspect she is having a pout and maybe a good cry in a corner somewhere, convinced that she’s been forgotten and abandoned. So I’m trying to find her, maybe take her out for a steak and get to know her again.
Well that’s nice and all, but it still doesn’t answer the question: What am I on about with this blogging business? Allow me to get specific. (Fingers hover over keys, frozen in a blind panic at the mere mention of the word – No! Not SPECIFICITY!! Now, now. I’m sure it won’t be as bad as all that. Just take a deep breath and go for it. And, anyway, no one’s reading so you can always take it back.)
First of all, I’m going to blog about books. Books are my escape, my joy, my comfort. I’ll blog about books that I’m reading. Mostly novels, but some children’s books, a smattering of nonfiction, and the occasional sprinkle of poetry . I’ll eventually get around to making lists of my favorite books, but that might come much later, once I figure out how to coax the chaos of my thoughts into categories.
Second of all, and here I’ll allow some vagueness to exist alongside all that scary structure and specificity, I will write about some Other Things. It’s hard to say exactly what those things will be. At the moment, it suffices to say that I’ll explore thoughts about my life – the criss-crossed chords of parenting, of writing, of striving to be true to myself, and of choosing – always there is all this choosing to do – where and how to live. I won’t write every day, but I must put some kind of goal down in black and white to keep myself honest. I’m going to start by trying to post every week. Are Mondays good for you? Okay, then.
A note here about the sub-title, “sometimes it takes a while.” You see, the “it” mainly refers to the “thinking” of the title. And, for me, thinking does often take a while, seeing as it happens between trips to the playground and the shopping and the laundry and the cooking and the bathing and so on. But it’s not just being a parent that poses a hurdle for me. Ask anyone who knows me and she’ll tell you, I’m slow. Always have been. Not slow as in, That Shannon, she’s a bit SLOW. Slow as in, That Shannon, she takes FOREVER. I blame it on my being a Libra. If you’ve never read any Linda Goodman (and you should), I’ll just briefly explain that Libras, while beautiful, social, and charming, can’t make a decision if their lives depend upon it.
Don’t make that face at me.
I’m not young anymore. I’m not old, either. But the fact is that I am all grown up, with responsibilities and everything, and I’m finally trying to be the person that I’ve secretly wanted to be. I’ve been afraid to even talk about my desires, too embarrassed and far too easily daunted. I am trying, only just now, to be a writer. More importantly, I am trying to be me. Nothing against the me I have been all along, but perhaps I could achieve a less muddled vision of myself. I’m hoping that, with a little agitation, I can separate myself away from the people and influences that surround and embrace and nurture me, much like the yolk will finally be convinced to go a separate way from that clingy white.
I wish I’d tried all this some time ago, when I was younger and a little more resilient. But.
Sometimes it takes a while.