When I first started blogging, and specifically when I began reading others’ blogs, I remember being surprised how much writing there was out there… about writing.
It seemed like for every blog post I came across about someone’s childhood, there was another guiding writers how to write a blog post about their childhood.
I didn’t realize writing about writing was even a thing, and it struck me as a little odd. Like taking a picture of a camera…
Or painting yourself painting…
But now that writing is such an enormous part of my life, I have a deep appreciation and understanding for all this writing about writing. Mommy blogs exist because the joy of motherhood is so fulfilling that people are eager to chronicle it. Travel blogs exist because it’s impossible not to want to document every adventure.
So as writers open the door of discovery, navigate the labyrinthine maze of new tactics and strategies, and explore unchartered corners of their own voice and story… why shouldn’t they get to catalog that experience, too?
I could geek out with my boss on compelling headlines or parallel sentence structure for hours… the same way I could theme an entire night with my best friend based on our favorite authors and poems. (Oh wait, that’s what I am doing tonight.)
(Pardon her French, Mom and Dad)
So I can relate to obsessing over one concept so much that all you want to do is talk (write) about it. And if writing just happens to be the subject in question, so be it.
All this to say, I’ve been spending a lot of time writing lately. And I hope you’ll forgive me for wanting to write about it. I promise it won’t all be as annoying as this post, writing about writing about writing.