What Blogging Is

Early in the writing of a book, the mind is a jostle. It's bump and grind. It's lonely. It's spending six hours writing a sentence or two, and wondering the next day, What was I thinking? If I can't get a scene right, I can't move on. In the beginning, I hardly move on.

Yesterday, though, I had this mini-breakthrough. I had something that might be something; I wanted someone to tell. But how do you justify crashing in on another's day—smashing up whatever thoughts they're having with your own odd nascencies? I've learned through the years how to snare my own impulse—how to hold back, keep calm, contain the urge.

And then blogging happened. Blogging became my thinking out loud—for better or for worse, that's what this is. It asserts itself against no one who cannot make the time. It lets me say, Hey. This happened. To whomever might wish to hear.

I am grateful (beyond words) for those of you who wish to hear.