<HONEA EXPRESS: And The New York Times Said Blog Is Dead

It finally happened. Honea Express has moved to greener pastures, or possibly just out to pasture -- you make the call.

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Please pardon the dust and update your feed readers accordingly. Thank you - Whit

Saturday, May 02, 2009

And The New York Times Said Blog Is Dead

"I see you wrote a post," said my wife as I entered the bedroom.

"Finally," I said. "It's been over a month and I finally felt enough of something to put it out there. I doubt anyone will get it. I don't think I get it."

"It's good to practice," she said.

Practice? What the hell, woman. I'm a professional writer. I don't practice.

But I should.

I hear it makes perfect.

She spent a few minutes trying to explain what she meant, but I was already playing the ancient game of sudoku on my iPhone - that might be irony, and I didn't really care.

And I didn't care about the post. That's not to say that I didn't care when I wrote it- I needed that release. I had tangents in my head, and then they were published and my mind could rest a little. They needed to get out, random as they were, and it felt good to do it. I don't miss them at all.

But I'm over blogging. You may have realized this by the fact that I haven't been doing it.

Sure, I've been blogging professionally - it pays the bills and it allows me opportunities I would never have in a more traditional occupation. I'm far from over that.

But it's a job now. I work long, long hours doing what I used to do for fun and now when I want a break the last place I want to turn to is blogging. I play with the kids. I stare into space. I sleep on my floor.

That is why I walked away. This is why I returned: I need a place to clear my head and you're standing in it.

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