What am I going to say today? Anything worthwhile? Something funny? Clever? Probably not. I always hope so. But, you know, sometimes I just find myself sitting at the computer. I’ve been here for a couple of hours already and I don’t have anything yet. So when I get really desperate, like I feel right now, desperate just to say something, anything, I start writing about how I have nothing to say.
I’ve done this maybe four, five, six times already, I can’t remember how many. I can’t believe how much time has flown by since I started writing these blog posts. Everything’s so cyclical. Like I can’t exactly put my finger on the pulse, but I know that there’s definitely a pulse, if that makes any sense. I’ll feel great about the writing. I’ll feel nothing about the writing. I’ll feel terrible about the writing. But it always comes full circle. It’s what tempers me when I’m riding high; it’s what keeps me writing when I’m feeling like I’m wasting my time.
But like I said, how many times have I written already about not knowing what to write about? More than a few. I’ll start it out, “ZOMG I don’t know what to write about!” and I’ll get like an introductory paragraph. And then usually my fingers, after just getting a little bit of action, they’ll get something to get going, by themselves. The next thing I know I’m almost done.
But can I actually keep up an entire blog post fueled only by uncertainty? Could I keep writing about not knowing what to write about without actually developing even the thinnest of an actual subject to explore? Does everybody know what I meant when I wrote “ZOMG” in the previous paragraph? I guess I could try to explain it and knock off another paragraph.
ZOMG. Anybody who uses the Internet knows what OMG means, right? Oh my God. Here’s another little side-tangent. When I’m writing, I never know what to write when I write God. God, god, God. I personally don’t feel moved enough to capitalize the G in god. But then again, I know that a lot of people always capitalize the G. Some people even capitalize pronouns when talking about god. Or God. Sorry. They’ll be like, “I love God and I love His Son.” And I’m not trying to judge. But sometimes just the omission of a capital letter is enough to warrant judgment. But that’s mostly in evangelical literature that I see the capital H, like His or He.
“How often are you reading evangelical literature, Rob?” you might be saying to yourself. Or you might not. “Why am I reading this, Rob?” might be another question you’re asking yourself. The best answer that I have for you is, “Because, it’s great writing. You’re going to faithfully read all of My writing every day and eventually the answer will manifest itself in your brain, and it will be spoken in My voice.” But obviously, that answer is more than a little biased. You already knew that.
You see what I mean? I start out writing something like, “I don’t know what to write about, blah blah blah,” and try as I might to stay on topic, I always wind up thinking about some nonsense to say. Right now is the hardest part of the blog post. I’m about six hundred words in. For some reason I’ve set my absolute lowest limit for a blog piece to be at eight hundred words. I’ve always thought to myself, why? Why eight hundred? because if you’re typing in Microsoft Word, in size twelve Times New Roman font, and you single space it, and you type out a full page of text, it’s more or less eight hundred words.
Whatever, in my opinion that’s good enough a reason as any for page length. Isn’t that what Shakespeare did? Basically. Triambic hexameter, or something like that. They picked out a preordained length and then wrote accordingly. It’s not the language that matters. It doesn’t matter what I’m writing. It just matters that, if you’re looking at this blog post from a distance, like close enough that you can tell that it’s English, but far enough away that you can’t actually read it, you’d look at it and say to yourself, that looks like something that can be read. A blog piece. A Rob G. eight hundred word blog post.
“Rob, are you comparing yourself to Shakespeare?” you might be asking yourself. Although, that’s not really fair, because I could be writing any question in quotation marks followed by the statement, “you might be asking yourself.” Right? Like, “Rob, I can’t think of anybody more handsome than you are,” you might be thinking to yourself, or “Rob, I can’t think of ten minutes I’ve spent better in my life than reading this blog post,” you theoretically could be saying to yourself, in your head, in your mind, just say it, please, say it over and over again, come on, some part of you is thinking that, right, even if it’s just because I’ve been repeating it, this whole long sentence, it’s in your head now, how good this is, if you’ve read this far, you know what I’m saying, right?