Sam Rocha thinks there is. He’s been interviewing bloggers about their writing process, and he finally picked me. It’s about dang time, too, because the world really needs to know that my writing process involves copious tears.
It was a really fun interview though, and I almost did not feel terribly uncomfortable reading it, even if Sam was a teensy bit overly generous in his introduction. You should read it, especially if you are a psychiatrist, because Sam made me do this word association thing and now I am dying to know what it means! Seriously, what do my answers mean? What does this say about me, that I associate the word “tart” with “pan” and “next” with “you’re”? I’m not being facetious here. I really want to know. Please diagnose me over the internet. That’s a totally professional and legit thing to do, btw, because WebMD does it to me all the time. I currently have lupus, leukemia, a brain tumor, and possibly malaria. Which might also explain the crying.
I weep at the keyboard because the internet isn’t standing in front of me. At least not really. I feel like I can be honest about how difficult life is, just my ordinary life, struggling to stay out of mortal sin, not some kind of life of heroic virtue, because the internet is a little bit removed. Even just Facebook messaging isn’t face-to-face, you can walk away, breathe deeply, or just shut your computer and go take a walk. With blogging, it’s doubly so. In that way, it functions as a sort of diary for me, but I’m too dependent on the feedback of others to keep a diary for my own personal reasons. If I’m going to write a diary, I better be getting some kind of feedback on it, otherwise, what’s the point? But it also keeps me honest. It isn’t always just me weeping over my own writing because my life is such a bad emo song; sometimes it’s me weeping because somebody was blunt and awful and right, when here I thought I was just writing a post to get accolades. And that’s the worst kind of weeping, because the internet also means that I can’t just punch them in the face. I have to take in their words, and allow that they could be right, and then when I realize they are right, I have to at least consider amending my life. And that would make anyone weep.
Make sure you read Sam’s interviews with the other Patheosi too, and if you enjoy them, please let Sam know!
(And thank you, Sam, for taking the time to do these interviews, and for being such a brilliant interviewer. I owe you a box of cookies. Or some banana bread!)