I’m a hack

Oftentimes, when I sit down to write an entry on this blog, I think of myself as Bill Paxton’s character at the beginning of Titanic – a know-nothing douchebag lacking the intimate knowledge required to have a meaningful discussion of the subject at hand. Every attempt at creative writing feels like an affectation, an artist’s brush in the hands of a pathetic amateur. This feeling isn’t helped by the fact I read a fair number of well-written, smart and very funny blogs on a daily basis.

How can I hope to match the enthusiasm of Allan over at AWMusic? The dedication Dave consistently demonstrates at Rawkblog? Victoria’s well-considered and always engaging perspective on Muruch? Matthew’s wry and often acerbic wit on Song, By Toad? The smarts and heart of Tart at I Correct Myself? Ceci’s uncanny ability to unearth musical gems from the most unexpected places with I Am The Crime? Just how the devil am I supposed to match keyboards with these people? Should I even bother? Why not simply throw in the towel and admit I haven’t the faintest idea what I’m doing or why I’m doing it?

That’s admittedly a very defeatist attitude for a blogger to have. Actually, for anyone to have. And I don’t find myself in that position *all* the time. For the most part, I try not to take the blog all that seriously, and just enjoy the experience for what it is & the satisfaction I get out of it, without worrying too much about my ‘reach’. At the same time, it’s kind of silly to pretend that any of us are writing these things without readers in mind. Otherwise, we’d just write in journals that we’d subsequently tuck under our mattresses and hide away from the world. Or we wouldn’t even bother writing, and just have quiet conversations inside our own heads.

With that constant internal struggle, you’d think I’d never get anything done. And truthfully, I do sometimes feel like I’m sleepwalking through the things I write, even though I can honestly say I only write about things I have a legitimate opinion about or enjoy, regardless of how transient that enjoyment might be. There are simply times where I can’t seem to muster the same verbal enthusiasm as I can at other times. I write, re-write and write again, and I’m still not happy with the finished product. Did I add anything meaningful to the table? Am I communicating anything that someone hasn’t read or heard a thousand times before? I get my greatest bursts of inspiration, it seems, when I’m far, far away from a computer. By the time I get back to one, I can’t construct a decent sentence and/or thought for the life of me.

Usually, smack dab in the middle of one of these bouts of self-doubt/loathing/criticism, I end up getting one, really kind & appreciative comment from someone letting me know I’ve somehow ‘dun good’ or that they somehow enjoyed something on the blog. This affirmation/confirmation/validation is typically enough to perk me up and get me back on track again – at least long enough to write a few decent words before falling back into the pit of despair.

Oh, I’m being melodramatic, of course. I suppose the whole point of this post is to say (both to you and to myself) that I’m going to put a more concerted effort into making thoughtful, personal and reflective posts that give you a little something beyond ‘woah kewl band, this mah jam!’.

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PJ Harvey – The Whores Hustle and the Hustlers Whore

Speaking of which, the above song is from one of my favorite albums of all time. I first heard a track off of Stories when a pixie friend of mine (she was the closest thing to a fairy tale creature I’ve ever met in real life, I simply can’t do her justice in words) made me a mix CD that included ‘This Mess We’re In’. I still have it, in fact. Yes, as an ex-girlfriend once described me, I’m a ’sentimental fool’. I can’t bear to part with certain things, especially if there’s a really vivid memory associated with it. I remember everything about the circumstances that surrounded her giving me that CD, right down to where we were.

At any rate, I don’t think Polly Jean has ever sounded as wonderful as she does on this record. Not to say that I haven’t enjoyed subsequent efforts or previous releases, because I have. But Stories is just perfect, to me. I think it’s nigh impossible to top in my book, and will always be a go to album when I want to get myself out of the emotional doldrums.

Tags: Rants