Writing is vulnerable

In an attempt to write more each day/week/month, I’ve put significant effort into sitting down and actually writing

Seth Godin put it best: SUSDAT.

“Show Up, Sit Down, and Type”

It sounds much easier than it really is.

I’ve been better about the showing up part.

I’ve even been pretty good about the sitting down part.

It’s the typing that’s holding me back.

So, in typical Roxy fashion, I’ve over-analyzed it.

I’m trying to figure out why, suddenly, I have no idea what to write. I’ve come up with a few ideas:

1 • I have no idea what to write.

Seriously, what do I write about?

When consulting clients, I advise them to develop what Neal Schaffer described as “content buckets” – 3-4 subject areas or categories that you would like to talk about. (For example, if you run a recipe blog your content buckets might be “my own recipes,” “recipe reviews,” “where to get ingredients,” and “presentation.”)

I’ve done the same for this blog. I’ve taken my own advice. I have a list of ideas to write about, things I find interesting or useful. I’m my own worst critic, though. I have my list of topics and talk my self out of every single one of them. That leads me to…

2 • I want to write something worth reading.

Why write if it isn’t worth reading? What if I’m the only person who cares about how awesome apple butter is? (I know I’m not, but go with me on this one…). What if, what if, what if…

It’s bogus. Writing is beneficial on so many levels. If I choose to put it here, on this blog, I’m trusting that there is someone, somewhere, who will connect with it. And if not?

I guess I’ll just have to live with writing for my own sake.

3 • I’m out of practice. 

This is tough for me. I used to write all the time, then I started grad school and wrote even more. I shouldn’t be out of practice, but I am. I’m out of practice writing the way I love to write. I haven’t written for myself in a while, and I’ve lost the rhythm of it a bit. It will come back, I’m sure, but only with practice.

So here’s my practice. That leads me to my final idea of why I’m not able to just sit down and type:

4 • Writing is vulnerable. 

Really, really vulnerable.

What if I mess up? What if I miss a silly grammatical error? What if, what if, what if…

So I watched this (for about the millionth time):

and I remembered that it’s good to be vulnerable. If you connect with me on some level through words I’ve written, I’ve accomplished something people only dream of. I’ve made a connection.

So be vulnerable.

Show up, sit down, and write.



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