So the time I generally spent during the day working on my novel has been taken over by the browsing of a number of addictive websites that I pretty much have to read to completion before I can quit (I’ve decided to call what I’m writing a “novel”, since “story” is starting to sound like something I tried to write about anorexia and lost love at the angsty age of fourteen). The most recent redirection of my energies has been to Books of Adam, a regular installment outlining the ordinary experiences of a guy named Adam, expertly rendered hilarious.
My friend AG had posted, with the inevitable demise of my productivity no doubt at the forefront of her sneaky mind, a link to the aforementioned blogger’s website. There’s a faint possibility that I am overestimating her evil intentions, since she didn’t even post this to me, it just showed up on that stupid timewaster’s dream Newsfeed. (Would you like to receive a notification EVERY F-ING TIME that person you only kinda-sorta know, and are probably days from unfriending, comments on his friend’s friend’s step-sister’s ex-fiance’s photo from Summer 2007? No. Just no.) So all it takes is “AG has shared a link with JF”, and the rest of the afternoon is taken up by riveting tales of awkward Vegas trips and cat ownership. So is the next morning, and part of the following evening. I also find myself wishing I had invested in 3G on my iPad so I could continue to catch up on the silly escapades of a certain Portland wordsmith during Relay for Life. Uhuh, I’m that dedicated.
This post wasn’t actually conceived to extol the virtues of this Adam Ellis character (but seriously, check it out. I don’t go to all the trouble of hyperlinking for every Sam, Dick and Wanda’s badly-drawn webcomic; this is legit, the Shiz), but rather to identify a certain problem in my own blogging world – or more accurately, the lack of blogging in my world, since this is the first post I’ve written since..hmm…January?
The problem is this: what the *cleverly wrought, perhaps Shakespearean, curse phrase* am I supposed to write about?! Please believe that I am not over-exaggerating when I say that my life is supremely boring (Yeah hi, I’ll get the Supreme Boring Life, with a side of They Aren’t Even Showing Re-runs Anymore. Oh, and supersize the Going To Bed At 9:30 Cause It’s The Most Exciting Thing To Do. True story). I guess some time during the perusal of travel blog after cooking blog after teaching English in China blog, I got the impression that in order to write a blog that people are actually going to read, you have to have an exciting life.
Boy was I wrong. Truth? If you take my intense, and possibly unhealthy, love of food blogs out of the competition, I would rather devour Books of Adam posts than any of the fascinating life-story blogs that I’ve come across. Honestly! Who wants to hear about how much more epic or dramatic this random person’s life is than your own? Me, I’d much rather just read your embarrassing stories to which I can relate and hey, if there are funny cartoons thrown in there too, well that’s just icing on the cake! (mmm, must find pictures of cakes).
So Books of Adam has helped me to accept that I can write an interesting blog about my categorically uninteresting life. Or, at least, the potential is there. Now I have to see if I can actually stick with it. And boy do I ever wish I could draw…
This is what happens when I draw. It’s not bad, but after spending about three hours on it, I have no intention of fashioning multiple doodles for each post. I also have even more respect and regard for cartoonists than I did before (and I had a lot before). I’m a writer, ok? I’ma stick to that…
EDIT: So, I’ve read almost two years of posts on Books of Adam and I have to make a correction: this guy’s life is nuts! So much for regular happenstance. Unless everything is hugely exaggerated (which I doubt, though it would make him the most epic story-teller EVER), his life is way, way, WAY more exciting and wild then mine will ever be. (It’s kind of like the super-cool, teenage version of Life that my sixth-grade Life desperately aspires to become.) Oh I still love it, my, my yes, but I realize this basically destroys the entire premise of this post, not to mention my decision about blogging. But don’t worry – the seed was planted! I’m gonna let this baby GROW!