Writer’s Block?

If I were a writer, I would consider this blog a vehicle for my writing. Wait… I am a writer. I have a book coming out this summer: Beginning XML, Fourth Edition. (Well, to be fair, it’s not my book. I’m just one of the writers involved. Still, it contains my writing, and it will be published, ergo, I’m a writer.)

Which begs the question: Why don’t I consider this blog to be a vehicle for my writing? I’m a writer, and I write things here. I guess it’s because I don’t really put anything serious here; just inane ramblings, and amateurish reviews of books and movies. And posts about my weekends. And other typical blogger-style posts.

So, back to my main point: If I were a writer, and considered this blog to be a vehicle for my writing, then I would consider myself to have a serious case of writer’s block, these days, because I’m not really writing much of substance. (Not that I ever did.) (Why do I keep interrupting myself to undercut my own points?)

Let’s take an example. What were the last ten things I posted here?

• joke post
• joke post
• post about the fact that my new coworker keeps asking questions I don’t know how to answer
• joke post
• post in response to an annoying comment
• RUTR update
• book review: The Honourable Schoolboy
• RUTR update
• long post about a trip downtown—which proves why I shouldn’t consider myself a writer, because a simple post about the fact that I was feeling run-down turned into a long “dear diary” style post
• a post about the fact that I don’t have many blogs that I read regularly anymore

Which breaks down like this:



That’s another thing: I put a lot of useless graphs up on my blog. What’s up with that? I used to put up pictures sometimes, and then I stopped, because the infrared port on my laptop wasn’t enabled. But I’ve now gone into the BIOS settings and enabled it, so that I can transfer pictures from my camera phone. For example, here’s the box of Kleenex I bought on Friday, since I was sick:



Interesting, eh? Yeah, I thought so too.

I think I’m just being hard on myself because I found another blog that’s interesting to read; every time I find one, it makes me question my own blogging abilities. Just like every time I read a novel by John le Carré, I question my ability to write fiction; I’m not in his league. (Is that why my novel is still on the shelf, and I haven’t touched it in months? If so, it still doesn’t explain why God in the Driver’s Seat is on the shelf, and I haven’t touched it in months. Or why my book on Microsoft Word—which is now a book on OpenOffice.org Writer—is on the shelf, and I haven’t touched it in months…)