New year's earnestness

Because everyone calls them resolutions and I enjoy being pointlessly antipodal. Anyway, here's one of mine: write a blog entry a week for at least the next four months. Doesn't matter where, though I'd like them to mostly be here on good ol' CiB.

All previous efforts to set myself writing aims - beyond those things that external reality forces me to complete - have not been glorious. But I'm not going to let that stop me from publicly declaring a goal knowing there's a risk of public failure. I like to think I've grown immune to the shame of public failure, so there's nothing to lose in trying again...

The plan: I'll click the publish button every Friday. On the off-chance I've managed to bank some writing, I'll hold off until then. I'm currently in possession of many scraps and ideas so there's plenty to get going with - for a start, there's 38 evernote items tagged 'blog', some of which aren't all that far off publishable.

Navel-gazing moment: writing has become an odd thing of late. I used to love it, and I used to be relaxed. It's the 'relaxed' part I want to get back - having to click 'publish' every week may perhaps help me let go the incredible tension my writing sphincter's been under these past few years.

There's so much happening out there in reality one can bounce words off. Part of the problem has been how I've changed in the face of that. Symptoms of a really, really boringly classic mid-life crisis, possibly: realising that the world is likely to carry on churning its way along much as it always has. The mental construct I used to have about some future point of radical change: a carrot tied to a stick tied to my neck. It's not so much that I don't know what I think any more - it's that I used to imagine I'd know by now, or I'd have lessened the ignorance, or the world might have taken some steps towards me. But I might as well have been bailing the Atlantic into the Pacific. And the world? Who knows - perhaps they're doing OK out there on those planets we've been finding thousands of light years away.

I don't want the up-coming writing to be (just) navel-gazing though. So do come back! It'll be OK! I'd rather kick up some dust from all this ground that's settled in the quiet and see what happens. Poke reality with a stick, step back, observe, poke again... There'll even be some groovy stuff to write about the new job, I suspect. It's turning out to be rather awesome.

Well. I could have just not posted this and kept the earnestness to myself. But then, I wouldn't be able to write a self-congratulatory entry on the first Friday in May. As it is, I might not anyway, but... I might.

This mopey entry doesn't count as my one-a-week. First one this Friday!

Update: there are seventeen Fridays up to / including 29th April. So I can look back and count 'em, I'll mark each entry with its index. So tomorrow's is 1/17. Come May, there'll be no hiding from the gaps!