So we failed to hit Blogust's goals.
We weren't even close.
But before Bonnie Raitt's "I Can't Make You Love Me" had even finished its piano/keyboard duet intro and before I had pulled out a tumbler glass to get busy drinking myself into oblivion (which is no easy task when one doesn't drink, despite the phenylethylamine in hot chocolate), Blog strolled in.
"Oh for fucks sake," Blog said. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"What?" I asked, plugging in my electric kettle.
"You're not even thinking of moping are you?" Blog asked. "Because this post-failure pep talk thing is going to wear thin as a cliche to your audience if you keep using it every time you fail at something. Besides we already had the whole poignant failure moment with the Cool Runnings clip and the Inception music and everything. What was the point of that if you're going to get all maudlin about it anyway?"
"I'm just sort of pissed at how much we missed by," I said. "Over ten thousand."
Blog sighed. "It's like talking to a wall sometimes. If I had a head, I'd be shaking it."
I pursed my lips.
"Okay look," Blog said. "Last four or five months around here have been 32, 33 thousand right?"
"Yeah," I said.
"Kind of disappointing, really. Looked like a plateau," Blog said.
"Well in one month you came within spitting distance of 40,000, you wrote some awesome articles, you started a couple of major undertakings. You didn't have a single day under 1000. So you didn't hit your goal. We both knew it was ridiculous. The point is that in trying you kicked ass. Writing is not a hail mary hobby. It's always about working the ball down the field.
"More importantly, you also learned a valuable lesson about the line between quantity and quality and how more isn't always better. Churning out articles didn't make you feel like a creative writer, it made you feel like a content writer. So now you've learned something really important about how you always worry about writing more. Fuggedaboutit. Use that insight to write my entries at a more reasonable pace. Don't worry so much about the day off or the jazz hands days and focus on nailing it when the real articles land."
I nodded. "I guess that's true, huh?"
"You bet your left testicle it is. Now stop being melodramatic and drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream. September is already three days old and I need you at your fighting weight before I start smacking you around to get me a million hits by the new year..."
How being a writer helped me rewrite a sexist trope...for real. [Edit 3 (7/25/13): I speak to some of the more common comments, questions,...
Well....it finally happened. My "can't even" about the comments on my Facebook page went from figurative to literal. At o...
So if you've been on Facebook sometime in the last fifty years or so, you've probably run across this little turd of a meme. I...
My suspicion is we're going to hear a lot about mental illness in the next few days. A lot. And my prediction is that it's going to...
Come see the full comic at: http://jensorensen.com/2016/11/15/donald-trump-election-win-reactions-cartoon/ If you are still trying to ...
Image description: A fountain pen writing on lined paper. These are the brass tacks. The bare bones. The pulsing core of effective writi...
I don't normally mess with author gossip here on Writing About Writing . Our incestual little industry has enough tricky-to-navigate g...
Ready to do some things for your craft that will terrify you even more than a sewer-dwelling clown? Oh what I wouldn't give for a si...
This might be a personal question, but I saw that you once used to be Muslim on one of your other posts. Why did you leave? It's fun...
1. Great writing involves great risk–the risk of terrible writing. Writing that involves no risk is merely forgettable–utterly. 2. When yo...