![]() Someone criticised a blog post before I left for vacation, and another person criticised a different blog post the day I returned. So why is this suddenly a problem, and why the depression over it? I’m never exactly the same today as I was yesterday. I don’t think I’ve even written anything that I now wildly disagree with, but I know that I change all the time I learn all the time. It sort of suits my personality to blog because I churn things out at a dizzying rate, thrive on feedback (if I’m being honest ), and am not such a stickler as to choose perfection over speed. Who has time for that? It’s a blog post! And there will be another one coming up tomorrow. It’s rare that you go back and change a blog post to reflect how you’ve evolved since you wrote it. But when you write a blog post, it’s how you feel and think in that exact moment of time. It shouldn’t be, although I know a few of mine slip through. I don’t mean that it’s riddled with grammatical errors. When you blog, you’re constantly putting work out in its rough draft form. But we don’t see any of those stumbling blocks in the finished work. The authors thank agents for believing in them, editors for pulling out the best in them, spouses for putting up with their bouts of insecurity. Each sentence is finely-crafted, sparking vivid emotions. Every word is choicely placed, like apples of gold on settings of silver (to borrow from Proverbs). (I love reading those things too, but this time I wanted to catch up on some of the books I have been meaning to read).Īnyway, these three books, as you know, are just magnificent. ![]() It had been a long time since I read something that wasn’t either an escape novel, my favourite Georgette Heyer, or a book for review. Over the past two weeks’ vacation I read three masterpieces: Glass Castles, The Help, and A Thousand Splendid Suns. I was depressed as a result of constantly putting my life and work out there in unfinished, rough draft form when it seems like everyone else is so amazing and … polished. Or maybe I just wasn’t feeling my best physically and hadn’t had – or made – the time to take care of myself.īut then I realised that no. I thought maybe I was going through my usual bout of post-holiday pressure to catch up and do and do. I thought maybe it was the fact that I needed some alone time after two weeks of collectivity, or maybe that I was frustrated at being told to wait on certain things I was hoping for (told by God, of course, not by man). I couldn’t put my finger on why I felt this soul-sucking depression on our way back from Brittany.
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