Fika and Promises
I always bristle a little bit when someone introduces me as a blogger. I am a writer, darn it! Because WRITING is serious, and BLOGGING... well, blogging is a hobby and a labor of love that keeps us honest. To start a blog is to take a public vow that you will write. But there are a lot of crap-blogs out there, and we SERIOUS WRITERS don't necessarily want to be associated with "them." There is a hierarchy in the blogosphere (when is the last time you saw that term?) and I'm sorry Mommy Bloggers, I'm just not that into you.
Um, yeah, and I blog about cats. Who am I to judge?
Nearly four years after I began this little blog I still struggle with why I am compelled to come here four or five times a week and tell stories and post recipes and photos of my cats. I wonder if blogging (or Tweeting or FBing and all those other extra online duties we are driven to do) feeds a writer's innate insecurities. I check my stats, Tweet out new recipes to draw readers, include blog addresses on resumes and business cards. Each new reader builds my confidence, while every lost set of eyes sends me into a sad state that I sooth with a night on the couch, a glass of wine, and a Housewives marathon. I worry that I have run out of stories.
But the next day I return to my blogs and write some more. In the act of writing I forget my insecurities. Garrison Keillor once said, "There is a great mystery and powerful music playing that we don't hear and stories full of magic, so many stories that life isn't long enough to tell them all." In that promise I find comfort.
Last night we girls hit happy hour at Fika and among our talented confident little group I felt secure. Friendship does that. As does beautiful delicious food (Note accompanying photos of amazing treats.). Over at Called to the Table this week I dabble in insecurities and confidence and beautiful delicious Skillet Trout, and hope that Confidence feels welcome in my kitchen and in my writing, and yes, at my blogs.
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