Last weekend I attended OryCon 44 in Portland, Oregon. Shortly afterward, I took my (adult) kids to a couple of pumpkin patches, where we got to run around in a corn maze. And today, I listened while an amazing podcaster talked about how he got to where he is today, and how everything is about to change. One of those things that the podcaster talked about was how, when he started out on YouTube, he didn’t have much of a focus. He’d do a little of this, and a little of that. His posts were popular, but didn’t really take off until he found his niche.
I think I’m still finding that niche here, on my blog.
Though at times I talk about writing, I don’t think this is a writing advice kind of blog. And yet, while at OryCon, I gave quite a bit of writing advice. That was really fun, and really fulfilling. I had amazing mentors, and paying it forward by giving the best of myself to future authors (and other creators) helps offset the tremendous debt I owe them. And yet, there are so many blogs that give writing advice. That skillset, and my approach, aren’t really unique. At least, not unique enough, at least in my estimation.
I like to write about the research I’ve done, and the places I’ve been. The fuel I burn to generate energy for my creative pursuits is experience, so new experiences are vital to my work. Not in a weird way. The corn maze wasn’t exotic, and it didn’t have to be. I was outdoors, with people I love, doing a thing that we don’t do every year but just sometimes, and it’s been different every time. Fresh air, sunshine, corn, scarecrows, laughter, frustration, hanger (hungry anger) and relief–not exactly a hero’s journey, but that mini-adventure made plenty of creative hay that I can feed my brain in wintertime. It’s great, but is that my niche? It doesn’t feel quite right. Neither travelogue nor spiritual advice, a blog focused on what I do to nurture my writer’s brain might be good, but it doesn’t have that lightning bolt electricity of a really good idea. Plus, I have to admit that whenever I run across a writer’s blog entry that talks about the process or a writer’s retreat or staring out the window and feeling their feelings, I wrinkle my (quite large) nose and skip it.
I’ve got big-ass hobbies, like gardening. Often I’ll spend the better part of a day in the weeds, literally, and I’ll emerge with leaves and twigs in my hair when it gets too dark to see what I’m doing. I paint. I sew. I like DIY projects, like tiling and painting and flooring. But this is definitely not a hobby blog.
I have a hoard of animals, like our border collie, five cats, four goats, and a bunch of goldfish in a decent-sized pond. They’re important to me, and I love them. Of the subjects so far, I think writing consistently about them would be some of the most interesting things I could write about. But what does it have to do with my writing? This is a writer’s blog, after all. Of course every writer must have a cat, and writing about cats is kind of a thing…
Should I write about my projects, then? I don’t know. It feels weird.
Maybe weird is good.
Until I figure this out, I’m going to be wandering aimfully. And eventually, like finding the scarecrows in the maze, I’ll find the place I’ve been looking for.
Maybe that place is where I’ve been all along!