Blogger reaches 50!
09 +00002012-12-14T10:31:05+00:0031 2012 § Leave a comment
So here is blogpost 50; for this, at the cricket wicket, I might get applause, but as a blogger, I’m a realist and I’m certainly not oh-so-modestly holding my keyboard up in acknowledgement. ‘Blogger’: what a distinctly unpoetic word! From this point forward, I shall call myself ‘wordwright’, which has a much more traditional craft ring to it (in fact, it might well suit someone as a pen-name), because that’s what this is all really about: finding a voice where none was before, in the lonely ethereal novice-blogger desert where only the odd flower blooms to waste its fragrance on the air (a brazen borrow). I’ve seen myself through the eyes of hardened desert denizens, watching with amusement from atop a dune or a mountain as I have gone wandering round in circles and loops and along crazy tangents, calling out to anyone who might be there to listen to my voice and mostly not getting a reply, even when heard. Directionless.
Yet, bit by bit, post by post, I think I’ve found my voice, which is not the same one I use as a novelist, nor as a twittering tweep, nor, indeed, in real life. That is the wonder of being a wordwright; you can project different voices to suit the place and the time. (I’m saving my verbal ballgown for a red-carpet day!) Here, at christinajamesblog.com, I did say on my ‘About’ page that you, my welcome visitor, could piece together clues to put on the transparent crime board in the incident room; since then, I’ve been carelessly dropping all kinds of clues about me in front of you, as I’ve selfishly pursued my writing interests. It has been interesting to me, all this, for to post a daily blog is a challenge and has now become a need, for me. Unlike a diary, a blog can have an audience (occasionally, thank you, you’ve made yourself known!), even if I can’t see it or interact with it; consequently, each post must be carefully wrought and turned on the wordwheel into as perfect a piece as possible. My view of you is as of those unseen natives of the desert, who can see so clearly and judge so finely my efforts to find my way, and your very high standards put me on my mettle to meet them.
If you are a regular visitor here (my upwardly mobile site stats tell me you’re there), please do materialise from time to time. You have no idea how welcome you are! You know I’m not going to alarm you with: “OMG, this crime fiction is sooooooooooo awesome!” It’s not my voice.