Heather Armstrong, who started a blog years ago before most people had even heard of blogs, and who now makes enough from it to support her two children, administrative staff, and two dogs, writes and posts pictures every single day.
This morning, when I myself had absolutely nothing to say, I was wondering how she does it. She writes a lot more personally than I do, which helps. She first got famous because her boss read about himself on her blog and fired her. Then she wrote about her pregnancies and depressions and husband and children and dogs. Then she got divorced and couldn’t write about the husband anymore, and now she apparently has a boyfriend who has apparently requested anonymity (she writes about mysterious trips to New England and takes pictures of two pairs of shoes in airports, hence the two “apparentlys”), so she has a lot less to write about, but she keeps it up.
It was for mornings like this that I created the “bored drawer” concept (though I haven’t yet turned it into a real drawer), which stems from my childhood fear of being bored. When you’re feeling creative, you write down everything you can think of to do (in the blog-writing instance, everything you can think of to write); then, on those vacant mornings, you pull something out and voila! You write.
WordPress has started something similar called The Daily Prompt, which brings to mind arduous creative writing classes where you’re stuck with the contents of someone else’s bored drawer, but I suppose it helps with those fallow mornings. You can “share” your post, by clicking on one (all?) of these cute little icons:
You can also link your resulting post to their site, and maybe get all kinds of new readers. Here’s today’s:
You’re 12 years old. It’s your birthday. Write for ten minutes on that memory. GO.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us RECKLESS.
I’m afraid if I were to write for ten minutes about anything I’d lose the few readers I have, so don’t worry, I’m not going to spring for being twelve on my birthday.
But this disquisition has filled the void quite nicely.