And no one is around to read it, does it make an impact?
I’ve always thought the tree made a sound anyway, whether or not anyone was truly around to hear the answer to that philosophical question. Same with a blog, even if it is new and shiny and has a mere handful of readers.
For me, this blog is a lot like the warmup scales I played with my old alto saxophone, to get ready for the real deal before band practice. I jump in, I start putting words in some semblance of order and communicate with the world, or at least anyone who gives this place a glance.
The fascinating aspect of a blog is that for as long as the Internet exists, this stuff will be around — kind of like the half life of a Twinkie. It just isn’t going away anytime soon. So, if this blog goes quietly into the good night of cyberspace today, there is a chance someone may eventually trip over this link. Or better yet, find a story I’ve published and followed up to find out more about this particular writer.
More than a simple warmup exercise, this place serves as a reminder each day, whether I’ve accomplished a lot or very little, what the life writing mission is. I’ve had a chance to scan a lot of blogs over the last couple of weeks, and there are a bunch of humans sharing their experiences and I gain something from nearly each one I read. At the very minimum I get a glimpse into their creative process and the unique perspective each one presents.
Of course, there are always some examples of how not to share with the world. Some blogs can be a lot like an uncomfortable experience with public transportation, sans all of the potentially bad smells that can be associated with a bad seat assignment on a plane.
The Tymes here will attempt to avoid the type of chatter that distracts, annoys along the way, and instead go for mildly entertaining exchanges about the journey of sharing stories with humanity. We will go for good hygiene here and avoid those way too long public display of affection moments that make everyone want to leap off a moving bus.
If you’re here reading this today, be like the tree in the forest and make a sound about what you see. Or even if you see this 40-years from now and I’ve slipped this mortal coil, post a couple comments anyway. I will not be able to respond, but the thoughtful response will be appreciated just the same.