I unsubscribed from one of my (formerly) favorite blogs recently. I fought it as long as I could, but you see, there was this one day and this one post and I just couldn't take it any more.
The decision didn't come lightly -- I tend to be pretty loyal to my blog list. I'd been reading that blog for probably two years. When I first signed on, this blogger wrote about his/her kids and his/her spouse (yes, I'm being intentionally vague) and the perils of parenting, and other personal issues. It was funny and crass and irreverent, with lots of swearing, just they way I like it. It was a real homespun kind of blog; no pretensions, just sayin' it like it was, balls and all.
Then, last year the book was published and a new book begun. Posts dropped way off, but I can totally understand that; shit happens, you know? I certainly have no right to tell anyone they're not posting enough. (snort!)
The problem was when the posts did come. Every word was agonized over to provide maximum impact, every drop of spontaneity squeezed out. I don't know enough about writing to be able to explain it in real words, but I'm guessing you can see what I'm saying. The language became so contrived that it was too embarrassing for me to read, and that's saying a lot.
Worst part is, I totally get that contrived thing. After my first Nano I spent way too much time reading about the craft of writing and learning all the horrid newbie mistakes you should NEVER EVER MAKE, and in the process I pretty much paralyzed myself into a Grade A Writer's Block. Even now, I am pretty confident that I edit the life right out of just about everything I write.
And that's probably why I couldn't handle reading the blog any more -- couldn't stand the awkwardness from seeing myself in that mirror.
The day came when I realized the suckage outweighed the amusement and I clicked the 'unsubscribe' button.
And I've been afraid to post ever since.