I used to think blogs were the height of conceit. Who gives a shit about what I have to say? What anyone else has to say? How do you get to the point where you presume to think people will want to read what you write? It’s arrogant.
Then I decided to start blogging here and initially it was all about me. I was the arrogant one! Though I still spoke in a whisper, not sharing it much, just having the general attitude of “hey, I wrote this, if you want to read it you can go ahead but if not, that’s cool.”
I love that people read it, don’t get me wrong. But what I wrote was primarily for me. And I liked that.
I still like it. But as time has gone on and the words I’ve written have gone into Scrivener instead of here, I felt less of a need for the blog. And, um, that’s probably rather obvious.
What has changed? What prompted me to write today?
My friend Giovanni pointed out to me one day that the stuff we were going through with my son may be rare, but surely there were others out there going through the same thing. And finding the same lack of information I was. And he pointed out that I have this vehicle by which I can share the information I come across with others who may need the same thing.
Novel concept, really.
Still, I needed to figure out exactly what the hell we were doing first in order to determine just what it was I have to offer.
And I think we’re finally there. So I’m going to begin a series about our academic experiment this year. If you’re here because I write about writing, well, I still will. After all, if I’m back, I’m back. And I think (knock wood) I have a nice writing routine going and a plan to make my writing career happen.
But in addition, if there’s anyone else out there frantically Googling “slow processing speed” and “school” and “classroom accommodations,” as I’ve been for the past ten months, well–I’d like to think maybe I can help you out.