(not my hands)
I have, upon occasion, the preacher’s version of the underwear dream. You know, where you find yourself suddenly out in public, doing something Really Important, in front of a lot of Really Important people, and suddenly discover you’re in your underwear? Well, the preacher’s version is that you’re in the pulpit and you find you don’t have your sermon. Of course, it’s an anxiety dream, but it also indicates how paranoid I can get about not getting my weekly 2000-word essay done in time.
I can write those weekly harangues to a long-suffering congregation, but why have I been totally unable to publish a word on this blog for the past two weeks? Even though I still, basically, love the movies? The easy answer would be “writer’s block,” and I could say that, but that’s a cop-out. I am, after all, able to write those sermons.
But maybe that’s because there’s an incentive: it’s called eating, and I like to do it, so I tend to get them done. But what’s the incentive for blogging? The thrill of writing? Not for me . . . see the weekly harangue. Is it the ego? There is an element of that involved, to be sure: it certainly helps feed whatever needs feeding within me to know others are interested in what you have to say. And who won’t mind a lousy sentence like the last one.
And another thing: my interaction with other bloggers has taught me a lot about movies. As I’ve often said, I came to the full bloom of cinephilia late in life. I don’t have the decades of dedication that the best bloggers have, the layers of knowledge — accreted by years of viewing good movies, and thinking about good movies — that they bring to the table. So, unlike some folks who do indeed know it all (or at least think they do), I am actively learning by my interactions with other blogs.
Now, here’s the rub: to interact with other bloggers, and to get others to read your stuff, one of the keys is to blog regularly, the more times a week the better. So for me, blogging became, like, an obligation. And when I didn’t blog on any particular day, I’d actually feel guilty. And I have plenty of other things to feel guilty about, thank you very much.
So, as might have become apparent from the — oh, I don’t know — lack of writing, for a while now, I’ve been toying with the idea of abandoning Coosa Creek Cinema. But a funny thing happened to me on the way to shutting it down: I saw a movie. A very good movie, and though it was not the first time I’d seen it (more like the third, or fourth), it seems to have rekindled some sort of desire to write about film again. And I will write about that film tomorrow.
Or the next day. Because I’m going to try not to be quite so obsessive about the thing, to not get worried about why nobody’s commented on a particular post, or why I got snubbed in somebody else’s comment section. And, oh yes: I’m going to go back to watching good movies, and writing about them, and not watching trash and then writing about it just to be posting something.
Unless I feel like it, that is We’ll see.
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Rick, thanks for the (very honest) post. To me, what makes your site special, is the journey and the love of learning. You have learned so much by doing this blog. I think it might be time for Coosa Creek phase 2, where you take the knowledge that you have gained and give it back to us. You have a unique perspective that we like to hear. I, for one, would really like to see more reviews from the heart, such as the ORDET review, even if it means less frequent blog posts. And remember, you can’t please everybody, so why try!
And, honestly, your such a great blogger, I wouldn’t mind if you just wrote about anything. As long as you were writing from the heart, it would be better than just about anything else I read.
None of this is important in the end and I know you know that. And nothing will come of it financially either. While cookbook bloggers and cakewreck bloggers seem to get book deals for their horrible prose and bankrupt imaginations the film and book bloggers I know, bloggers who can actually write and develop an idea into an essay, never even get noticed.
Still, we make it important. And we make it important for the reasons you describe: We want the contact, we want the ego stroking and we want an outlet. The first and the last one, forming friendships with like-minded cinephiles and having an outlet to express your thoughts, should be the only ones that matter but that ego thing always creeps in. How many hits, how high am I ranked, how many people link to me and why did that guy get quoted in the Times? That guy?! He’s a lousy writer!
I will be honest: I am proud of what I have accomplished at Cinema Styles but can’t imagine anything would be lost if I stopped blogging. I could still comment on my friends’ blogs and keep in touch with them. I simply wouldn’t have the added stress of worrying about what to blog. Every time I’ve come close to doing that I stop, go back and continue. But I understand losing the desire to as well and one day may just throw in the towel myself. I just had an e-mail exchange with a blogger we all know but won’t say their name (and will use a plural pronoun) for the sake of privacy. I e-mailed to ask if they were done blogging. They said yes, probably, but would just leave everything up. I said just post once every two months if that’s what they wanted. We all know each other at this point. I’m going to check on all my friends blogs every day whether they update or not. When they do, even if it’s five months since the last update, I’ll be there to join in the conversation.
Randy, thanks. I’m struggling right now to juggle all the stuff that’s going on at church (you may have read the spread in the News a month or so ago about WWW) and family and this blog … How are you and you Amy doing, by the by? We need to get restarted on that film project …
Greg, my online friends are also what brought me back. I’ve been lurking around other people’s places for a while now, and it’s time to reconnect. I loved the stuff on your and Bill’s blog about the new Coen brother picture, and am dying to see it; it was a good discussion.
I felt the same way a while back. Nowadays you don’t need to post every day. Most readers use an RSS reader, or get the blog emailed to them. If they don’t, suggest that they do. That way you can write when the mood hits you and not be concerned.
Anybody who claims to not feel the same way you do on a regular basis is lying – or a really fortunate and amazingly-motivated blogger. It’s one thing to have the time to write, quite another to be able to take that time and write something brilliant. My posting has gone down lately both due to lack of time and acceptance of the same realization you had. I haven’t consider closing down shop entirely, but certainly I’ve tried to make myself only feel “obligated” to write about what personally moves me. Sometimes it’s fun to write about the latest blockbuster just to get in the water with everyone else, but I don’t get nearly as much personal satisfaction, or feel as if I’ve grown in any way, as when I write something I consider deeply personal, or at least something that’s made me thing about something in a new way.
In other words, writer’s block should only be consider writer’s block when you’re really moved by something and still can’t write about it. You just hadn’t seen anything great in a while, that’s all. And maybe this movie that touched you recently will fade as you don’t write about it over the next few days, which is fine, too. Maybe it wasn’t as moving as you thought immediately afterwards.
Anyway, the more I’ve realized that I should write for myself and not my “audience” (whom I love, of course), the more fulfilling it’s been. What Randy is getting at; kind of the Roger Ebert’s Journal model.
Oh yeah, and what Tommy said, too. Don’t worry about coming to find us all the time. Technology these days keeps me apprised of everything you’re doing here as you do it, however frequent or infrequent that is.
Tommy, I think you’re right: I use an RSS reader as well. Just gotta remember to check it …
The blockbuster thing is good to do once in awhile, Daniel. Sometimes I get burned, though: they tend to be hot-points for controversy, which I don’t mind, but I like to write stuff that takes a measured view of a movie. Very few films are all one way or the other, all good or bad, but with a high profile release, positions can get hardened. The best recent example I can think of is the Basterds … if you didn’t just flip out over the film, you must hate it. Conversely, if you flipped out over it, you were labeled a fanboy. Not fair to folks who are in the middle, or on the really, really like side.
Rick – “Bloggus Interuptus” is all too familiar to me – I’m lucky to get one post up every two weeks, if that. And I can relate to everything you’ve said here. I’ve seen many more films this year than I’ve taken the trouble to blog about (I still haven’t posted a review of “Antichrist” a week and a half after seeing it.) But I enjoy your posts whenever they arrive, and I’m looking forward to whatever you write about that film you rediscovered and loved.
Thanks, Pat. I’ve not seen Antichrist; movies with names like that don’t play all that well in towns with names like Tuscaloosa, Alabama.
I’ll be honest, Rick — your absence had me worried, so I’m thrilled to see you back. And I know exactly how you feel. I think we all do. I think the key idea is to not be too obsessive about our blogs, as you pointed out. After I finished my October posts, I thought “I ain’t bloggin’ about shit for at least TWO WHOLE DAYS!” And then I started worrying if that was too long, which then caused me to worry about the fact that I had nothing to write about. But something happened to me, too, which is that I saw A SERIOUS MAN, and suddenly found that I DID have something to write about, and I wanted to write about it, and suddenly, out of the blue, and for maybe the first time in the two plus years I’ve had my blog, I don’t feel much pressure to write something just to write something. Why this breakthrough occurred now (and how long this healthy attitude will last) I don’t know, but it’s a nice feeling. So what I’m saying is, glad to have you back, buddy!
LONG PARAGRAPH!
Bill, thanks. To paraphrase Stan Laurel, I used to be stupid, but I’m better now. Interestingly, I still get people steadily checking in, even after two weeks. Which indicates that Tommy is probably right: RSS means never having to obsess about getting posts out again. As God is our witness, we shall never go blogless again.
You don’t have to blog many times a week for us to stay interested, Rick. Just write something interesting whenever you feel inspired. We’ll be grateful if you do, and we’ll miss you when you don’t.
Counting comments is a lousy way to evaluate your posts, by the way. The best ones often leave your readers speechless.
Aw, shucks, Peet … thanks.