Social media is sort of killing me.  I like seeing what everyone is up to, especially new babies and awesome trail runs, but the political and religious rhetoric is slowly killing my soul, and I’ve been visiting Facebook less and less.  I’ve actually been visiting the computer less and less.

Which means I’ve been visiting this blog less and less.  I think about it often, but I just won’t sit down to write.  I write in my journal on the bedside table, but writing for public consumption?  Not so much.

I started this blog about 13 years ago as a way to record my life with Harper Lee.  I figured a handful of friends and family would read it. Then it grew, and five years ago, I found myself with a larger readership, a possible book deal based on the blog, and a sudden desire to become a professional writer who used the blog as a marketing tool.

And just like that, it became a chore.

I read other people’s blogs and saw that they had beautiful prose (in short bursts to accommodate a reader’s need for small bits of information that can be read quickly and without too much time invested) and quality photographs (lots of them, mostly artistic and in wild locales) and links to tons of affiliates and resources.  There were also giveaways and free e-books and opportunities to connect with the author.  Obviously, these were things I needed to include in my blog too.  To make it more real.  More professional.

What a pain in the butt.

That’s when I stopped writing regularly.  Blogging became a full-time endeavor (particularly for someone whose standard mode of operation when it comes to technology is trial and error and lots of cussing).

Every time I sat down to write, I felt like it needed to be polished and edited and say something pithy and meme-worthy.  And there had to be high-quality photos of every single thing mentioned or it wasn’t complete.  A lot of drafts went unpublished.  Or unwritten altogether.

And as far as photos?  I LOVE Instagram– I love, love, love looking at other people’s photos, and I dream of having a beautiful, artistic and aesthetically pleasing collection of my own to share, but to be perfectly honest, when I’m out running on trails, I rarely have the time or inclination to stop and take a stunningly set-up photo of myself bounding gracefully down a rock-covered trail with the sun setting majestically behind me.  It just doesn’t happen.  While I am learning to use my phone a bit more, I am usually by myself or hanging out with my running buddies and forget about taking a picture until I’m back at the car covered in mud and sweat.  Most of my pictures end up being blurry, unattractive selfies with my hair plastered to my head and my mascara running.

Besides that, I want to mention the books I’m reading or cool things I’ve seen and done, but I felt obligated to put an Amazon link to every book I’ve read despite the fact that the people reading this are probably pretty smart and can look up a title at Amazon themselves if they REALLY want to read the book.

In short, blogging had become a show– like much of social media, and, frankly, my dear, I just don’t give a damn about that.

I just want to write, edit for some typos, post a moderately decent photo to mark whatever event I want to remember through my post (if I have the forethought to actually take a picture), hit publish and let those who want to see what I’m up to.  And look up their own book titles if they’re interested.

My posts from now on (because I would like to continue this thing) will probably look a lot like my life in general– meandering, sometimes unfocused, candid and unpredictable.  That’s just my style.