1/10: Not drowning, just waving

I keep hearing from various sources that blogging is DEAD, which makes me want to rush to the internet and cover the ears of my poor wee boat before it panics that it is doing the wrong thing by not being dead, and immediately sinks before anyone thinks badly of it for this unforgivable internetty social faux pas.

But then I remember helpful things like

a) Boats, like walls, have no ears. This is bad, in that it means boats (and walls) cannot wear earrings, so are very difficult to buy for at Christmas. But good, because it means that they cannot hear people say mean things.
b) People have short attention spans, and very short memories. This is both a sad thing, if you try and keep ahead of them, and be where they are wanting to be, and an ok thing, if you have other reasons for doing what you do, and being where you are.
c) There werent, comparatively that many people blogging when I started, and writing for not many people in a scene that didnt quite exist was far easier. I find it quite comforting, actually. And freeing.
d) People just like saying things are dead when they dont feel like doing them anymore, just because it makes them feel better about not doing them anymore. It very rarely means the things are actually dead.
e) There is plenty of room for doing things that are short, like twitter, but also room for other things. It is just about having a desire to say something, and something to say things about. And I have a sense that I will continue to grow in both those areas, as time goes on, so see no reason for this blog to die.
f) I like my boat. Its part of me.

So there. While the Personal Blogs folder in my Google Reader gets quieter and quieter, it doesnt make feel sad, as I can hear those voices elsewhere now, on twitter and facebook and google+ and in emails and IM conversations and, quite often, in my house. But it doesnt mean I have to help that folder get quieter.

I will just sit here, happily, doing the thing that is dead, talking to a few nice people, and tapping away in the middle of the night when I can get myself to stop feeling like I should still be doing some work instead.

So just saying hello. From my boat. Not sinking. Not Drowning – just waving.