Do I Really Have to BLOG?

But, I don’t want to blog! 


Why does every business class and marketing seminar all tell me I have to blog? Yes, I am stomping my feet as I write that. No matter what business I’m in or what I am selling, it seems like blogging is a necessary evil.

Now, I'm also a journalist, so it’s not like writing is something I don't enjoy or struggle to do. The struggle comes with me being a literary snob. The connotation of the word blogger is far inferior to the feelings of being a writer, journalist, or author. I feel like blogging is the ugly step-sister of informative and well-written articles or reports.

I see the blogs out there. Some have god-awful spelling and grammar, and some don’t even make sense! I’m not professing to be perfect, by any means, but please proofread or at least run a spell-check. Know the difference between to, two, and too; your and you’re; and their, there, and they’re. My English teacher would pass out from some of the horrible butchering of the written word that I have seen in these things!

Can I get over this hump? Once I have blogged, what the hell am I supposed to do with it? Here’s some stuff I thought about today, now please buy my book. Really? Does anyone really care what I have to say? When I write a news article, it gets published and people who are looking for more info find it and read it. It’s a factual piece of work and the details are nailed down.

Maybe that’s why it’s so difficult for me to blog. I’m a get-to-the-point kind of girl. Cut out all that fluff and get to the meat of the story. For goodness sakes, my book that I am marketing with this very blog is called The Simple Guide to Great Photography, because I can condense, baby! As a matter of fact, I condensed the book into a helpful quick reference chart at the end.

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Guide-Great-Photography-Photographing-ebook/dp/B0160PI5O6/ref=zg_bs_154734011_52


I love reading F.Scott Fitzgerald (way before the latest Gatsby movie made him popular with the younger crowd), he can write descriptions that Hollywood can only dream of recreating, but not me. Take for example, this passage from The Great Gatsby:

The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon. They were both in white, and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. I must have stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall. There was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room, and the curtains and the rugs and the two young women ballooned slowly to the floor.

My version of the same:

Two young women sat on a big couch and their dresses were blowing in the breeze, until Tom Buchanan closed the window.


See, right to the point! So, you can see why blogging is going to be like pulling teeth for me. Will you all really read it? Will you really care? Will you really buy my book, if I tell you about my day?









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