NaBloPoMo

So, for several years of my adult life, I've considered myself a writer. Not a Writer, as A. A. Milne might say, but I identify myself as one who writes. I write, therefore I am a writer.

For several years now, I've felt writing become a deep part of my life. I write in many different ways: email, letters to families, fannish pursuits, reflection, to get something off my chest. I just... write.

It's amazing to think how much I use writing as a tool for reflection and expression, when I didn't even think that I could write until I was nearly twenty-two. (More on that another day.)

There is so much that I write, though, that never makes it into the open. Well, naturally. It's only in the past few years that blogging (or myspace, livejournal, facebook, and etc...) has become a quite normal and regular pasttime for many people. How would I have made my writing 'public' five years ago? I think what I mean is this: so much of what I write is just jumbles of words and bits of ideas... inchoate thoughts, if you will, that form in my head and need to find their way out, lest I forget them. For all intents and purposes, this is a public blog. No, I don't share names or personal details about myself, students, or family, but this blog is available to anyone that happens to click their way here.

So, there is a level of accountability that I feel. I want what I say here to be something I stand behind, even if it's a simple thought I had one morning over coffee. With that self-imposed accountability, I think I become somewhat reluctant to put something here -- here in my blog -- that doesn't feel finished.

Why is that?

I have conversations with friends, with family, with other teachers, and not everything I say is fully finished or even an eloquent pronouncement on the topic at hand. (*gasp* It's not??)

But writing, public writing, has an element of permanence to it. I write, therefore I am. I put it on my blog, therefore I must be willing to stand behind it. Because of that, though, there are a lot of things that I don't put here that would probably be of interest to those of you that read. I know that some of you are friends of mine, some are family members, others are colleagues or teachers, and there may even be some of you that I don't yet know. (If so, comment and introduce yourself! I love meeting new people!) Why do I feel reluctant to put out things that are unfinished? Is it because of the unknown?

Anyway, I'm musing on this tonight because November is coming up. November is NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. I have grand dreams of one day participating in this, but it will never be when I am a classroom teacher. Sadly, November is just too full, and I am far too slow of a writer to be able to accomplish it, even at 1,800 words a day.

There is, however, NaBloPoMo, or National Blog Posting Month, which I am definitely considering. I might actually be able to accomplish 30 posts in 30 days, as long as I give myself permission to post things that aren't quite eloquent or even finished.



Writing is a habit I have, but blogging is not. What about it, friends? Shall I endeavor to make November a month of blogging? I'd really love to hear what you think. ♥