I stumbled upon a blog post by the Daily Post which made me think about the first time I signed up to blog. Specifically, why it was that I began blogging.
I’ve kept a blog going since elementary school, first on LiveJournal, and then here. It was, and still is to an extent, a place for me to roughly discuss my thoughts, feelings, and the like. It wan’ts my journal, but it wasn’t quite an academic essay, either.
Later, when I began travelling more extensively, the blog became a way to keep in touch with friends and family, post photos, and let them know what I was up to without having to send emails every week with varying, potentially tedious CC lines.
Nowadays, my blog has – gasp – an ulterior motive. Because I want a career writing,I know pragmatically that I need to not only practice writing, but also build up connections in the writing world, and build up a fanbase who’ll spread word of my book(s) around.
This makes me wonder if my occasional lagging in blog loyalty stems from my distaste for making it something so…. dirty as “professional development.” That, in turn, makes me look back and question my decision to write for money. If I get paid for it, does it really count as fun?
My answer to myself is yes; it’s not being directly paid to write specific things, but a reward for spending the time to produce something someone else wants to read. Being able to write is the prize. The money is a bonus.
It will support my habit, you might say.