You know those times when you’re so frustrated you feel like you could pull your hair out, and all you want to do is throw a pillow across the room, slam a door, and stomp on the ground?
Yeah. That’s how I feel about now.
Every few years, I go through a existential blog crisis, wondering what my next step is going to be and trying to take stock of it all. For various reasons that I can’t go into–and the not-being-able-to-go-into-it-yet aspect is KILLING ME–I’ve felt much less angsty these past several months. Life has been very good, I’ve been working on a few different projects that will be unveiled soon-ish, and I am beside myself with excitement over finally being able to reveal them to you.
But I’m sure you’ve noticed that I haven’t been blogging as much recently–and when I have, it’s much more surface. Which I hate. Which makes me frustrated. Which makes me miss the old days when I was one of the only games in town and there weren’t five billion blogs–beauty or otherwise–to choose from.
How do you distinguish yourself when you’re drowning in a sea of people younger; more energetic; more social-media-inclined; more makeup-swatch-obsessed; more in tune with pop culture (my confusion over Beyoncé-worship makes me feel like a pariah screaming at kids to get off my lawn); more willing to devote their lives to endless events and networking and profile curating and image-management and spinning on the hamster wheel of “This is the facade I choose to present to the world, even though it’s not real”?
When your personal life is flourishing, but for some reason it’s just not translating into your writing, what do you do?
In truth, I think I’m suffering from run-of-the-mill writer’s block (blogger’s block?), which is a shade ironic seeing as I’m working fast and furiously on my next book and am zipping right along with that. But this here blog is almost 10 years old, and every once in a while I feel like Norma Desmond, muttering about how I AM big, it’s the internet that got small.
Sometimes I worry that my best professional years are behind me, and that I’m never going to be as prolific, popular or creative as I was in my 20s. I worry that writing about mascara launches and skincare how to’s and Kate Middleton’s latest triumph simply isn’t enough for me–that my voice is shriveling and wasting away, 140 characters at a time.
I know tomorrow or the next day, I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled programming and all will be well. One of my most valued personal traits is resilience; I’m usually pretty good at picking myself up and dusting myself off, no matter how bad the scrape.
But I miss talking to you guys truthfully, and I just wanted to let you into my current headspace for a second. I really miss having you all in residence there. Soon again, I hope.
May 19, 2014
Great post. Don’t be discouraged. If it makes you feel any better, I went through these feelings many years ago. (I was internet-big from about 97 through 2001. Too early.) It gets easier.
I feel the same way re: what it takes to stand out now. Tweet! Insta! But don’t just tweet and Insta — you must present a perfectly curated and flawless lifestyle, emphasis on *style.* God forbid anyone be photographed in the same shirt twice!
But as you said, that’s not real. Good writing (fiction, too) is about truth. Your truth (and mine, too!) is one of current contentment, happiness, and gratitude — and that’s why the surface-level stuff seems silly. When you have lost a parent, when you have found love, when you have faced your fears and learned and grown, it’s hard to find meaning in, say, a pair of Rockstuds alone. This, I think, is a healthy thing. A good thing.
Stick with it. Don’t worry about being popular. (Easier said than done, I know). Keep writing as only you can. Your best is yet to come, Nadine!
May 20, 2014
I absolutely love that you were able to exorcise those demons here in this post. I’ve literally been frozen with writer’s block from a host of things that cause me to write very surface and very disconnected from everyone for a while because I didn’t want to expose too much. The constant noise, the push to be better/faster/shinier is exhausting and disheartening, especially since we really like to emote in our writing and it feels like the image is more important than the message these days. I’d dare say you’ve found your voice through this post, and I’d encourage you to keep doing exactly what you’re doing. The right people are continuing to hear, see and love what you’re putting out there. I am most definitely one of them.
May 20, 2014
I still enjoy reading your blog. I do look for bloggers who are in their 30s for beauty regime / product suggestions.