It turns out that I find maintaining a blog to be really, really hard. Mostly because I find myself completely lacking anything interesting to say.

It’s not that I have nothing to say, but mostly they’re limited to bitchy little missives that I fire off in a few sentences on Facebook. As a platform to voice any remotely serious thought I have, I find that I have a bit of a dearth of serious thoughts. As a platform to focus on writing rather than humor, I find that I’m caught between being unable to publish anything I’m trying to submit, and being unwilling to publish anything I don’t think is good enough to submit. I suppose that there’s an argument to be made for discussing writing processes, structure, etcetera, but I can’t think of anything worthwhile to say. I’m an unpublished writer, who would really care what I have to say about the art if my own hasn’t risen to the level of publication?

For the most part, my foray into the world of writing has been nothing but a series of stumbles and mistakes, and the occasional doubling down on mistakes because it wasn’t apparent as a mistake at the time. My original writing group was something very precious to me for the longest while before I was finally convinced that the format and structure of it was completely useless for the purposes of improving as a writer. There was a difference between welcoming beginner-level writers and catering to them, and the primary organizer of the group had very particular thoughts on the subject that produced a kind of treadmill where people would never advance because the meetings were too big, too short, and too much time was spent on simplistic exercises designed for people who were novices to the whole medium.

I harbor no delusions of grandeur of my own abilities, but I can say with relative confidence that I’m above that level, though I would seem to have achieved it despite myself. For years, I was with this group, and every time someone experienced or talented joined up, I was hungry to do everything I could to keep them in the flock. I viewed them as the only real way I could move forward, as the rest of us were the blind leading the blind. But they never lasted and always left after a few meetings, and it drove me batty that I couldn’t figure out why.

Until, of course, I left too.

I landed on my feet, though, and poached a few of our more talented and regular contributors to form a more focused group. One that was more about critiquing and less about writing exercises, which is what I was needing at the time (and continue to need). So I eventually got to the right place and process—or an approximation of it—but I’m morbidly ashamed at how long it took me to wise up.

So again, it’s not that I have nothing to say. I just have this channel to share writing, but I’m also incentivized to never show you anything for fear of devaluing it. I suppose if I ever managed to sell something, I could put it online once the terms of exclusivity expired, but who knows when and if that will ever become a reality. That leaves me with scant material outside of chronicling my failures, which is neither compelling writing nor reading.

Granted, this post comes at the tail end of an unprecedented streak of updates for a whopping four sequential months in a row with updates, but that is kind of the exception that proves the rule. At the peak of my creative output, all I can manage is four blog posts. Four. Peak output. The fuck.

Let’s see if I can come up with a fifth post and keep the streak going.