Monday, March 9, 2015

Blogging is Dead

This morning on Facebook - the proclamation "Blogging is Dead"

And I look back on a year of  blog posts. Hundreds of blog posts.

One year.  Such much happens in a year

One new grave, surrounded by flags.  One wooden box, bearing in cold air a warmth that can't be replaced.

On each are short simple words that do not begin to carry the weight or the sharpness of their past.

But as a new author, everyone said "you need to do all of the social media"
I did my first twitter.  It had all the literary  grace of Rodan. #Ineedmoreroomforwords

I started Facebook.  It's like the school yard with free ice cream and magic. I am having some fun with it.

But it also leaves me wanting for somethin---for it does not feel like writing. It's fun, but simply that---fun. To me, it's not flight or mode of combat, words that take on shape and form, Even as I shared in the laughter and offered short comforting thoughts, I missed those long tales that are born from a soul that's an irrepressible retailer of words, a shopkeeper of phrase, an enabler of intent. Facebook is like hanging out with your best friends with beer.  Blogging to me is sipping single malt scotch in front of a typewriter, which is where many of my stories started.

Still, where else can you post a cat with a gun, riding a fire snorting unicorn.
So I'll have my fun on Facebook even as I quietly say into the silent night - Blogging is not dead.

Book #2 was born, out of a blog post that became a chapter, than another, and another. Because I am a writer and my world has too many words.

I sit here now, no music playing, no noise---just the soft breathing of a dog and my thoughts, words almost imperceptible to the senses, hanging on the air to be plucked by my fingers and laid upon this white table.  This computer is my accomplice, guarding me with its quiet accord, bearing with me the seclusion, the mystery. I should probably get up and do some housework, but while the words are still within reach, I am imprisoned by the very freedom of my hands.

I think of the classic writers - would Jane Austin been a hit on Pinterest? Would Hemingway have been popular on Instagram? How many Twitters to win a Pulitzer prize?

Creativity can be short bursts of color and forms and words.

But not in the world that I like to live in.
I am a writer and I have too many words.

I am the run on sentence. I am the "too many commas".  I can't take a morning standing out among broken trees, red and blue lights flashing as words pass over the forest floor like the sound of big guns and make it a quip.  I can't look out upon the hills, the top of one wreathed in billowing smoke, as around me there are shouts and hollers, ringing out like war cries, yet spoken in hushed tones so as not to disturb the dead, and express it with a hashtag.

For words are my truth immense and they are my voice.

Blogging is dead.

It is not dead, it's strings of thoughts that you would have to travel far ahead not to hear, before you outrun the reach of a voice.  You can turn off your modem, but the words still exist.  For they are my words, and though confined to a virtual reality, they are words that exist, in my head and my heart, their tone from the stillness and gloom of a life with a past where my words were my one truth in each passing day.
You can chose to turn away, or turn off and not read.  It does not mean that the words are dead.  For I am a writer, and that is what we do, sharing the nature of that internal silence that follows us down into the depths of our soul, and brings up a bucket from a well---one brimming with words that spill over, to quench the thirsty hearts of whispering men.

I will still enjoy my Facebook, it's like waving at a neighbor you like as you pass each other coming out of your drive.

I'll still fail at Twitter and most other forms of social media. I'm just not interested in being connected to the whole world 24 and 7 and I'm perfectly happy being friends with only a few dozen people who realize that  friendship is not a button, it is a gift.

I've realized that those that truly care for us don't require constant validation, and if I don't send someone a Facebook "Like" on some un-posted socially acceptable schedule, my true friends will just chuckle and move on. For I am a writer---that solitary person that stood in the corner of the school yard and just looked on at the popular kids. But I always had the words, even when I was too solitary to say them.

I can go weeks and weeks and not talk to those I love. I will continue to be bad at responding to emails. I will love a few of my friends more than I can ever say. There are a dozen of you I would take a bullet for. So, I say it on here, this is the place where I go to tell you the words that I meant to say, to offer a kind touch, or wake you up from some slumbering place where shadows may soon pounce.

It is what it is, a way to capture in words on a screen instead of a page, pages that can be held close in, or telegraphed to the world. It can be whimsy, it can be fun, it can be as disturbed as the mind behind it, or as calm someone one can stare at in wonder, words that reach out like a consoling whisper. It can be as intimate as a kiss or as impersonal as the wind.

It can simply be a piece of bacon and a smile.

Blogging is not dead.

It is alive, when the muse fails and the hands stay still in the air with an honest idiocy of objective which made their fruitlessness both profound and poignant. It is alive, when the fingers dance over the keyboard in a frenzy, grappling with ghosts in one final act of common courage.

It is alive, when the keyboard is silent and the house stills, and the one you treasure more than anything on earth looks up from the smart phone that you will never own and says "I love what you just wrote".
It is alive, because it is here my voice has no word count, it can be black and white or filled with color.  It will be stories of battles fought and won, of great mysteries, and simple pleasures. It will be warnings that the younger self will not grasp until the older self breathes its last. It will be joys and sad caresses, tender words laid out upon the tongue like a wafer, a benediction, a blessing, a self communion of one formed of two hands. If you do not read, I will still write as I do not write so you can claim some part of me. But if you come out from beneath that place---that conception of existence we hide under like a tortoise in his shell, and listen---the words will draw breath, even after I am gone.

Blogging is not dead.

It breathes as long as I do.  Because I'm a writer and there are so many words.
 - Brigid


  1. Blogging is certainly alive and thriving for your readers when you're producing posts like this one.

  2. I so enjoy the words you choose to share with us all. And I for one, look forward to a future time when you are free to write full time should you so choose. I suspect it will be memorable.

  3. To live there must be death for there to be new life. It is a cycle given to creation for perpetuation. Each time I blog, new life ushers forth, a part of me dies. To find new life on the page of electrons.

    Yes facebook is fun, it also has become a media of connection to other worlds. New doors have opened, shuttered windows now without closure. Before here, I was on WLS, had connections across Europe, Asia and other spots. I had light shed on things that was dim connections. .

    As the clamps on the Web begin to grow maybe an eye or two will open and look at the changes for what they really are, control...... hence blogging is dead.

  4. Well.
    Tough act to follow.
    Facebook posts are fleeting. Quickly lost in the flow of "newsfeed".
    Blogs are not permanent, but more substantial.
    Open letters to friends, and notfriends.
    Elaborations on thoughts and comments on elaborations.
    And your writing.

  5. I'm with you... It's an outlet I don't get from the book of face, and I don't play on those other ones at all... I get a few readers and a few commenters every day. They seem to like what I put up for my brain drippings and I enjoy reading all the blogs I read. Maybe blogging is dead for the youngsters, but it's still a pretty healthy corpse in my opinion... :-)

  6. I'm glad you have too many words...
    I am a reader... as you must write, I MUST read.
    and your writing is eminently readable.

    Thank you for reminding us that blogging is NOT dead.

    Rich in NC

  7. I have tried facebook twice but ended up getting out of it. I found it a quick way to use up a lot of time with little long term results. It is as spectacular as a million people pissing in the river at once but what is the point. Anyway I don't think blogging is dead.

  8. "Bring out your dead! *clang*" "I'm feeling much better!"

  9. You write so well when you do serious writing of substance. Much of what passes for writing today is a joke...a bunch of words strung together incoherently. It is like those scientists who say humankind is in the midst of devolution and not evolution. We are no longer making advancements -- not real ones. We are actually losing ground and headed, I believe, into another "dark ages."

    Keep up the good work.

  10. No way is blogging dead as long as we have such quality writers as yourself, Brigid.

    My RSS feed is full of many good writers on many blogs.

  11. "...I am imprisoned by the very freedom of my hands..."

    That my dear friend is why blogging is not dead. Just sayin'..........

  12. Blogging won't die, but Google may lose interest in maintaining Blogger at some point in the future. These days, the big tech companies are all about the ad revenue, and I'm not sure that is a good thing.

    If you have to run your own server, I'm sure that hdr22 at can hook you up with the right people to get one configured. :)

    I pay about $100/year to maintain a domain name and server space. Costs are higher if you want to keep the system under lock and key at The Range like our former Secretary of State.

  13. This documentary covers a "dead" creative tech that people still use to create and enjoy new work even if the medium is no longer commercially viable. The last 1/4 or so of the film tries to answer the "Why?" question.

    Nothing ever really dies on the Internet, especially those embarrassing Spring Break pictures.

  14. I'm glad for your too many words. Blogging is only dead if you let it die. I may not be posting so regularly lately, but my blog is mine. It's a space to create for me and share with the world.

  15. Meanwhile on Twitter ----> Does anyone still use FB? #facebookisdead

  16. While not a blogger I am a reader of many. Facebook is fun for keeping track of friends far away but requires little thought. I read daily and comment seldom because most of the time your words stand on their own. Long live Home on the Range!

  17. If blogging is dead, than I (finally) have come to understand the "walking dead," as I have not failed to follow you and your postings for a number of years now! You can lead me. you can direct ne, and I will mindlessly follow, because I have come to enjoy what you write, and I look forward to more and more of it! Thanks for all you've given us, and PLEASE RUSH your next book! I am a needful thing, and I NEED my next fix!

  18. Please do not stop blogging. I love your writing about family and other aspects of life. Your blog is a calm oasis in the swirling craziness of the interwebs - best enjoyed with a cup of tea.

  19. Blogging is not dead. It's just losing the people who have nothing to say.

  20. Indeed. Your analogy of FB and Blogging is dead on. I cannot give the medium up, it has been a positive thing here in this small town to find my tribe, even if they span from one end of the earth to the other.
    Thank you for your words. They inspire in more ways than you might believe.

  21. Thank you everyone for just being here, understanding and listening to these words. And to the three of you that left the great reviews up on Amazon last night and today for The Book of Barkley - you brought tears to my eyes - in a good way.
    Love - Brigid

  22. Thank you everyone for just being here, understanding and listening to these words. And to the three of you that left the great reviews up on Amazon last night and today for The Book of Barkley - you brought tears to my eyes - in a good way.
    Love - Brigid

  23. It has been some years now since I stumbled on to your blog, linked by another. FaceBook has been marvelous, letting me get to know some great folks who comment here and elsewhere, and a little chance to know the writer I admire so much. Home on The Range is where the heart and the meat are tone found.

  24. My nightly ritual- reading this blog. Thank you, Brigid.

  25. Brigid, far too many bloggers fill their space with drivel. Fewer are paid to generate screeds for blogs. And even fewer are capable of attracting publishers.

    You're not blogging: you're writing.

    My mother was a playright, published author, with plays off- and on Broadway. Her plays went "on the road around the US. She was asked to be a guest speaker on Edith Piaf and John Barrymore, two of the subjects of her many one-person plays. She was a *writer*.

    I learned a lot from her. About life. About expressing myself. About the wealth of thought that well-constructed thoughts can inspire (yes, I meant to write it that way... think about it...)

    You're writing short stories and commentaries. You're writing "thought pieces". You're "wordsmithing", constructing images and creating moods. The kind of stuff that stays with a person long after a Facebook meme or Twitter tweet.

    Keep writing. You have far more admirers than you think, even though some of use rarely express our thanks to you in public.

  26. Thank God for you and other bloggers. With all the garbage out there it's comforting to know there are millions of like-minded people who share the same values and thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, we aren't finished yet...

  27. Glad you feel that way about blogging. Fun for you. Fun for us too, and I would sorely miss my morning virtual visit to your blog. I'd miss the writing, and the pictures - the fun things that you tell about that could either be tweeted or facebooked. I'd miss the writing that brings back emotion that we share as fellow humans. Missing those that are no longer with us, aching with those memories. Knowing that we are not alone...

    But I will never tweet, nor will I ever 'facebook'. I think that many of us who have been around the sun more than a score of times, have a longer attention span and want more depth.

    Sounds like a fling at the younger generation, and it is (although by no means all of them). Perhaps they will grow up and not just older... If they don't it is largely not their fault, given most were nannied their whole lives. On the job we are asked to coddle them as well. But imagine never going out to play alone or with a few picked friends, never falling down and having to cope with it yourself while off on an adventure in the woods or nearby stream. I am sad for them for missing something that they will never in their lives have the chance to experience. Freedom...

    Whether you write for 'us' or not, I will always value your words and thank you for them.

    Fair Winds and Following Seas,

    Cap'n Jan

  28. Yes, you are a writer - a writer with soul!


  29. Re: I am a writer and I have too many words.

    A writer? I suppose technically you are that, but to me that's akin to calling Rembrandt a "painter."

    Too many words? Not when you're the one writing them Brigid. Can a beautiful spring day be too long?

    Blogging isn't dead, never will be as far as I'm concerned.


I started this blog so the child I gave up for adoption could get to know me, and in turn, her children, as well as share stories for a family that lives too far away. So please keep it friendly and kid safe. Posts that are only a link or include an ad for an unknown business automatically to to SPAM..