The Brazen Blogger That Made Cleveland Cry

The Brazen Blogger That Made Cleveland Cry isn’t about a city or a person.

I know, the 17 long time readers remember the days in which I would tease The Shmata Queen about that place she comes from, the city with a fake beach and teams that can’t ever win a championship.

Some may even remember that I said LeBron would leave because he couldn’t win and that I said when he came back they still wouldn’t.

But this isn’t about her, the city or him.

This is another protest against short attention spans, people who misunderstand metrics and give too much weight to the number of shares and or comments.

It is about my trying to figure out what kind of post I feel like constructing, not every day, week or month, but now.

art truth

What Kind Of Post Should We Write?

Technically there is only one person writing this and that is me, but the truth is every time I write I feel the presence of one or more people with me.

Every time I write I feel I like I am telling someone a story and that informs and influences how I approach it.

I go through cycles where I feel like writing the standard story that consists of a beginning, middle and end.

It might be talking about what it was like to find out my uncle(s) were gay or how it went when I discovered one of them was HIV positive and the things that happened after.

Or it might be about my kids, something they did that was memorable and or other tales of parenting.

It doesn’t happen as often as it once did because they are older and I make a conscious effort to try and protect their digital identities and to not create issues for them.

When they were really little I didn’t worry about them or their friends Googling them and finding stories that they might consider to be embarrassing.

Let’s not forget there are more than a few fragments of fiction floating around here. More than a few stories I created on the fly.

I almost did that tonight, almost  took The Brazen Blogger That Made Cleveland Cry and made it a story about a guy named Cleveland who had a fight with a blogger who decided that the best way to settle it was to destroy poor Cleveland’s online reputation.

But I didn’t.

Who Are We Writing For?

Most days I write first for me and then for you. Most days I pump out these posts because I am compelled to write and I have to scratch that particular itch the same way you have to breathe.

But there are moments where I wonder about what happened to the readers that used to hang out here on a regular basis.

Moments where I wonder if they grew bored and tired of what they read and moved on to new pastures.

Moments where I wonder if they feel overwhelmed by the amount of content heading their way and decided they had to cut something out..

It wouldn’t surprise me because I know how both of these things happen and go because I have been the reader and not the writer.

I also know it is possible they are still here and that they don’t comment because that is how things have moved for lots of us.

There are blogs I have been reading for quite some time but I just don’t comment very often anymore.

Sometimes I wonder if that is a mistake, the not commenting because it has a direct influence on how much traffic I get here.

Sometimes I think I ought to focus on writing posts that are more likely to be well read, passed around and shared.

Because if I do that I’ll shore up the foundation here, I’ll generate more exposure and potentially more opportunities.

But that is not really who I am or what I am about.

I’d rather unload and unleash my weird and continue the journey to become a better storyteller.

“Ah, good taste! What a dreadful thing! Taste is the enemy of creativeness.”
― Pablo Picasso

I don’t want or need to be like everyone else nor do I want or need to be different just for the sake of being different.

I need to remember the advice my doppleganger gives,

The biggest mistake writers make is allowing the whispers they hear inside their head take control of the work they do. Instead of telling the story they hear inside their head they twist and manipulate it so that it becomes prettier and more eloquent because they think it will be better liked.

Instead of just writing they worry about trying to create a masterpiece that will be adored and beloved and the net result is they create a piece of crap that should be swirling around a white porcelain bowl or used to wrap the day old fish their favorite fishmonger gives away for free.

The short-term goal is to be more like Picasso and focus on freeing my creativity and less like every other blogger.

A Man In Transition

I used to own a shirt that said “In a perpetual state of transition.”

It made my friends laugh because it was an apt description, I was always in motion, always in transition.

For a long while I wasn’t, but for a long while I have been…again.

There is a song inside my head that only I can hear and a mental image of a place I haven’t ever been and don’t quite know how to get to.

But I am working on it, working it out as I go along.

So if that means I am the only one who knows how to dance to music no one else can here and is moving towards somewhere no one else can see, well I am ok with it.

Don’t have a choice anyway, I have to follow it, have to see it to the end.

The blog and the writing is part of it. Don’t know how long it will take, what things will look like or who might be with me when it is said and done, but I’ll find out.

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  1. Billy Delaney January 27, 2016 at 2:17 am

    words to ponder. Kick the voice away and live the words every day.

  2. Chloe Jeffreys January 27, 2016 at 12:58 am

    It’s always important to step back and consider who we’re writing for.
    Lately I’ve started writing just so I’ll remember my life. I’d give anything if my mom had blogged. I’d love to read what she thought about things I wasn’t ready to hear when she was living.

    • Jack Steiner January 27, 2016 at 11:42 am

      Hi Chloe,

      That is part of why I blog. I figure that at some point in time my kids might want to have a look at what I was thinking or feeling at certain points in time, grandkids too.

      So this might help them understand where the crazy in their lives comes from. 😉

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