Once upon a time I belonged to a huge circle of bloggers. I was acutely aware of everything and anything that could possibly be worthy of a few paragraphs at the end of the day. Of course, I also visited everyone else’s blogs to check in on them as well. I learned how to write better from all of the talent that I was lucky enough to surround myself with on my ever-growing blog log. Then it died. Slowly, maybe, I can’t remember. I know that I had come to the end of my coming out story and had nothing left to give it. I tried to start another one, and another one etc. People were disappearing and showing up on Mark Zuckerberg’s global 145 letter restriction status up dates and I was dumbfounded as to how we all were leaving our own homes to try to find a way to be relevant in a tiny space. Like anything, if you don’t use it you lose it. I had been reduced to little quips about eating toast and weather reports.
Recently, I popped over to an old familiar friend’s “house”, Middle Girl. A woman who I met during a get together with other bloggers in Chicago. We had a lovely evening of conversation in a restaurant called The Russian Tea Room. I clicked a button on the side of her blog and was introduced to people who believed we could take back our own space. Write our stories in our own homes again. Microblogging is what they call it. Encouraging us to start slow until we get our groove back. So here I am. I found a new place to blog but they have held me hostage after a few attempts to blog. Wix was the place and it failed miserably so I am jumping to yet another blog hosting site. I hope I can find help with successful bloggers who use Word Press so I can get this summer project moving with enough motivation that it will become my home.
Welcome to the birth of my good intentions… AGAIN!