Double-Blogging It

I must be crazy. Or masochistic. Or possibly both, since no sane person would embark on what I'm about to embark on.

Here's the thing. I love this blog, but it's beginning to bore me. Non-fiction isn't really my thing and never really has been. It's not because I feel like I can't do it, but because writing about your life when you feel like you don't have much of a life beyond dirty diapers and temper tantrums can feel tedious. From a purely intellectual standpoint I know that I'm probably (or at least hopefully!) improving my writing skills by writing out of my element, but from a human standpoint, I'm bored to tears. I've received such incredible support with this blog, but I can't imagine that I'm entertaining anyone very much.

A sane person would simply call it a day. A sane person would probably recognize the fact that they have a family, school, friends, and work and would probably just stop blogging all together. A sane person would just let it go.

I wish I was a sane person.

But since I'm clearly not, I've decided to continue this experiment in non-fiction as well as start a more creative, fiction-based blog. Despite the fact that this blog chronicles my life and every anecdote in it is true, it doesn't feel honest to me somehow. The phase "unreliable narrator" keeps popping into my head, a high school English class flashback if there ever was one. And I can't deny the truth behind it; I'm holding back.

But here's a secret: I'm terrified of doing this. I want to be (and in ways, already consider myself to be) a writer, but the idea of people reading anything I write really freaks me out. I am a tense mess after I turn in a paper for school, just waiting in agony until it's graded, completely convinced I blew it. I never ceased to be a amazed when I don't. I nervously pace around after posting a blog, anxiously waiting for the first person who comments on it.  My ego isn't necessarily anything I think about in my day-to-day existence, but my writer's ego is as fragile as glass. Which is why putting myself out there completely feels both too terrifying to contemplate and utterly necessary.

I'm not a risk-taker by nature and this feels like jumping out of a plane with an empty backpack instead of a parachute.

Stay tuned....