writing into the void

I’m trying to let my story out.

It isn’t easy for me. Despite being prone to baring my soul to people I’ve just met, when it comes time for me to sit down and try to turn my experiences into something for public consumption, I choke.

I think it’s because the internet is weird.

Really, it is. When I last wrote in public forums (in my own voice, not as a bike racer & women’s racing advocate as I did on my previous blog), there was no internet. I wrote in similar forums, in terms of content — high school literary magazines, local newsletters, open mic nights — but the scale was vastly different. Back then, maybe a couple hundred people would read what I had to say, and they were all familiar to me. When I tell my story to someone I’ve just met, I have the benefit of a face-to-face connection; I know who I’m speaking to, even if I don’t know them.

Now, anyone with an internet connection has access to my stories, and I have no idea who I’m dealing with. I can’t play to my audience the way I did back then. Now it’s just me, vulnerable, talking into the void. I want everybody to read what I write, and love it/me, and I want nobody to read what I write, because I feel so naked writing it.

Seriously, the internet is weird.

While I’m finding my voice and screwing up the courage to use it, this blog will be my little island of pseudo-anonymity. It wouldn’t be that hard to find, if anyone cared to look; it’s linked to the same profile that I used the last time I blogged, and my picture is on the about page. I know I’m not really invisible here, but I can pretend. Even that little bit of anonymity is hugely liberating. It allows me to ease into the idea of writing on a grand scale, which is ultimately where I want to go. I want to connect with all of the people and the only way to do that is without fear.

I do have stories to share; I’ll learn to tell them here. Maybe they’re not incredibly profound, unique, or life-changing, but they are human. You write what you know, and that is what I know: what it is to be human. What it’s like to feel.


2 thoughts on “writing into the void

  1. Oh lord. I feel like you are me. Or I am you. *blinks as I read this yet again*

    I think I will follow you … your stories. They are, as you say … human. They are you … and they are me. I think they are a lot of us.

    • That’s the part of writing I love most, the connections & intersections! I think that’s really why we all do it. I’ll follow you also, and we can see what other similarities we share…

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