Recently, we had family here for one of our son’s high school graduation ceremonies. It’s been a busy few weeks as we elected to have his party last weekend, the week following our family visit and the actual ceremony. So, this week has been the first chance there has been some time to slow down and reflect.
One of the conversations that has stood out in my mind was with my mother. We were talking about writing – a love of which is something we have in common. When I started my blog in February of 2017, I sent my parents an email each day with the link to that day’s post. I did that consistently for many months. Eventually, I stopped, realizing that even with my sending a link daily, they were not reading the blog. To realize this was, of course, disappointing. I had hoped that since we’ve lived 900 miles apart for the last 19 years, my writing would reacquaint them with my daily life, my thoughts on family, their grandson’s activities, who I am, and what I value as a person.
Little is said by my parents these days about what I have written. About a month ago, I was upset about something when my mom called me. After rambling on about what it was, I finally said, “Well, if you read my blog you’d know what I was talking about. I explained it all there.” Her response, assuming I was talking about that day’s blog, told me she had not read the blog in quite a while.
But, while they were here and we were having an actual conversation, my mom stated that “she (referring to me) could write a book if she wanted to.” I found this was an interesting statement. While I agree, I felt it put more value on the writing of a book than my daily writing on the blog. I ended up questioning why a book might be more important or more valued than my blog? While I certainly got the impression it was to her, I am not sure it is to me and therefore, do not have an answer.
I know the blog allows me to write daily. It has allowed me to express my thoughts and feelings when I might have let them fester in my brain, without an outlet. I know that if I attempted to write a book, I would still have to blog. Blogging daily has improved my writing and more importantly, the discipline one has to have to be an author. Perhaps the blog is a step to a book. I have a friend who also blogs and aspires to write a book. I think if one loves to write it is a natural question – when is the book coming?
My answer to that is I don’t know; it might never come. And while I agree with my mother’s sentiment that I could write a book if I wanted to, I wholeheartedly disagree that it is not more valuable than my blog. If she wants me to write a book so she can read it, I think she’d do me the honor of reading my daily blog more than once in a blue moon. As you can tell, I’m having a hard time digesting this. A blog is good. A blog might even be good enough. A book does not have to be thought of as better than a blog. It is an accomplishment to write daily and have readers. Of that, I am proud and grateful.