February: Shortest month in days. Longest month in perception.
Historically, I slog through February. Unlike January, which largely is a gray month offset by the shiny promise of a new year, and unlike March, which largely is another gray month offset by the ceasefire of a spring break week, February is a gray month that's not offset by much except that (a) it's only 28 days long, and (b) its tipping point balances on the fulcrum that is Valentine's Day. Regardless of whether you love, hate, or feel indifferent to that holiday, at least it offers ready access to chocolate.
This February, I'm trying something different. Something bold. Something ambitious. This February, I'm determined to write here daily. I repeat: I'm putting myself out there and committing to daily writing for a month.
Now, to the tens of loyal readers who visit and enjoy this blog, you may wonder, "Why? Why do you feel the need to do this, much less announce it?"
I'm so glad you asked. I've thought about my rationale carefully, and I have a few reasons:
1) Exhibit A: The Name of This Blog. The title of this blog is Robin Kramer Writes. The title itself is a noun, but "writes" is a verb. It's an action -- an action I enjoy, an action that helps me to make sense of life, an action that I want to continue developing as a skill set, and an action that hopefully encourages others. These all are beautiful benefits of regular writing.
Even though I understand these benefits mentally, during the past few years, I've pumped the breaks on prolific writing. Life has been weird, and occasionally weirdly hard, and I haven't felt like saying much. That's okay. But right now, it's time for me to reconnect with the part of Robin Kramer that actually, ahem, writes.
2) Self-Amusement. If you'd watch me write a blog post, you'd probably see me smiling. Sometimes I make myself laugh. On rare occasion, I make myself laugh hard enough that I snort, which would be embarrassing if I weren't having so much fun. I'm not going to lie: I find myself amusing at times. Although that might sound prideful, it's not. It's good to enjoy yourself, your own company, and your own thoughts.
Just last week I wrote a post about procrastination. Once finished, I read it over and thought, "This sounds like you, Robin. That's your voice." It had been a while since I've felt this pleasure. It's been a while since I had an 'atta girl moment when I hit publish. I've missed the habit of wrangling the thoughts that swirl in my head into words that appear, fully-formed into sentences and paragraphs, in this virtual space. I want to recapture that voice. I like that voice.
Philip Lopate, a master of personal narrative, shares in a popular essay (which I assign to students each semester that I teach writing) that strong writers don't wallow in self-loathing, thinking they're too dull or broken, or inflate themselves with self-smugness, thinking they're too great. Instead, they tend to be characterized by self-amusement and self-curiosity. To me, this seems like sage advice for both writing and for life.
Self-amusement and self-curiosity? That sounds fun.
3) That Sounds Fun. I recently finished reading That Sounds Fun by Annie F. Downs.
It's conversational and refreshing, like drinking a Mason jar of sweet tea while sitting with a friend on a porch swing. One recurring theme woven through its chapters is that being an amateur -- a dabbler in pleasurable hobbies during our leisure time -- has been lost in our quick-paced, for-profit, highly-driven society. This loss is keen, indeed, because our hobbies (and the childlike wonder and fun those hobbies create and cultivate) enhance the quality of our lives.
I love this. When I shut the book the final time, I took inventory of my own amateur hobbies and loves: reading, writing, speaking, and pretending that I'm the host of my own HGTV show as I dabble with DIY projects, specifically. Then I thought: Be brave, Robin. Give yourself a reason to write more.
That sounds fun. A writing challenge will be fun.
4) February is Only 28 Days. I've selected the shortest month for this daily commitment. February is just 28 days. It's like an ESPN 30 for 30, minus 2. It's like January or March, minus 3. I already told you that February is a month I habitually slog through, so I might as well blog through the slog.
In other words, 28 days is do-able.
So, let's do this. I imagine some posts will be short. That's okay, probably good even. The daily discipline will build mental muscle for me, and hopefully, it will be enjoyable for you whenever you're able to read along. (And if you ever smile, nod, laugh, or -- best yet -- snort as you read, please drop me a comment. I'd love to hear from you.)
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