Getting Through The Dry Spots

The land of journals has changed drastically for me. I am amazed at the permanent alteration that was wrought to the fabric of my journal experience by the AOL blow up. The immediate immensity of the emotional response shocked me. Still, I always thought that when the dust settled and people had time to sort out their feelings, things would go pretty much back to normal. But that didn’t happen. The place I used to go to meet friends and trade stories no longer exists. AOL decided that we needed to grow up and realize that our virtual haven was, indeed, part of the real world. And the mass "coming of age" dispersed the journal community…kind of like a high school graduation turns people who have been as close as family—or closer—into strangers in a matter of a few months. Last night, I tried to describe to my husband what journaling was like now. What came to me is, I don’t see any of the casual, fun people from all over the country who kind of just came to chat anymore. I seem to have moved into the realm of the "serious writers." (Actually, I called us "intellectual snobs…") And a lot of the fun has gone out of it.

I once got myself in hot water with some folks in the land of journals by suggesting that many people who kept journals on AOL were not really writers. (I don’t know why anyone would be upset not to be a writer. Like any other talent, it is often more of a burden than a joy. At best, it’s a roller-coaster existence. You create something satisfying, and you soar to the rooftops. You go through a dry spell, and you fall through a crack in the floor. What is it about right-brained talents that we who possess them always feel we are on the brink of losing them? Why this ever-present fear that the font of words, or notes, or colors, is not bottomless?)

As it turned out, those people who felt "dissed" because I suggested they were not writers, provide the lion’s share of the fun and diversity in the land of journals. I think many of the most vital, interesting folks in journal land were not really happy with the sedentary nature of the journal community-- being chained to their computers for large blocks of time every day. The "AOL graduation" gave them the perfect excuse to disentangle themselves from the convoluted ethereal chains of the virtual community and get on with their active lives. And I really do miss them.

Or maybe the problem is this: When I decided that the journal land reformation was going to be my ticket to "take my writing to the next level," I took myself out of what was left of the journal community, and started…I don’t know…going uptown?. I tried to hang out where I thought the real writers should be. But real writers have turned out to be…well, kind of boring. And self-absorbed. And just WAY too serious. Lest I offend those few people who still do read my journals, let me assure you that I include myself in among that serious, boring, self-absorbed group. I’m not really happy about it, but it’s exactly what I am.

Still, I’m in this for the long haul. And, like anything worth committing to, you have to realize the road will ultimately take you to more of the good stuff…you just have to stick to it through the bad stuff to get there. Maybe the level I’m at right now is boring and uninspiring, and decidedly not fun...but I think I detect a slight rise in the roadway up ahead. Going up to the next level maybe? The one that can be serious and fun?