Good humans,

I’m out of practice with writing. And sharing. And formulating thoughts into words, string them into sentences and patch them into prose.

So I’m going to get back in practice. Press publish every day this month.

(Probably not weekends though. And come Christmas time, all bets are off. I’ll have probably relaxed so hard I’ll be drifting on a li-low. But until then… EVERY (WEEK) DAY!)

Golly, what a firm promise.

So, why I’ve gotten stuck?

I think because I’ve grown up as a writer in the era of blogging.

I like this. This part where the page expands before you, and you have no idea where it will go.

I don’t need a clear plan of what to say, I can find it as I go.

And it can take as long as it likes. And I can intersperse it with pictures. And I can keep it forever.

In a word, it’s… MINE.

Attempting to write on social media feels much more complicated. It’s in their space. In their tiny windows. With their tiny limit. It’s not my place for my best work.

But then I worry: do people even READ fucking blogs any more? Is this an appropriate use of my time?

I don’t know, and I want to find out.

So I’ll begin by pressing publish again.

I remember Austin Kleon writing a couple of years ago about how he was stuck for ideas. He didn’t know what to write his next book about. And so he started blogging again. About the things that were inspiring him, notes he’d made, creative discoveries found. And soon enough, he found a common thread. The insights strung together and he found his book.

I’m not here for a book. I’m here for… me.

Because I feel like I’ve forgotten to write – this most essential creativity.

And I don’t want to be without it one moment longer.

“It feels good to reclaim my turf. It feels good to have a spot to think out loud in public where people aren’t spitting and shitting all over the place.” – Austin Kleon

“Just write every day of your life. Read intensely. Then see what happens. Most of my friends who are put on that diet have very pleasant careers.” – Ray Bradbury

Red hot idea alert!

I was thinking… that’s great. You’ve written something, Leonie. But now who to tell? Linking from social media doesn’t do shitttttt. But I reckon there are probably peeps… maybe you? Who’d like to hear my daily musings.

SO! BEHOLD! I can send you telepathic messages to your inbox when I’ve written.

Would that be fun? That could be fun!

Yours in mad penpal love,