I am not blogging, I am not blogging

Let’s face it—most blogs are boring. Science fiction writer blogs are exceptionally so. Does anyone need to read one more un-spellchecked paragraph whining about the state of science fiction publishing, or how hard it is to find an audience for “the work,” or that George W. is the antichrist? No.

No, no no.

But the one thing I like about blogging software is that it makes it easy for people to add comments, and for other people to comment on the comments. That’s cool. It’s like hosting a dinner party in which most of the people are saying interesting things, and the rest sneak in anonymously to insult the host and argue with the other guests. That’s internet fun, people.

Wait, there’s a second thing: blogging has become so common that people understand the interface. The weird, reverse-chronological posts; the ubiquitous “blogroll” and “archives” sections; the obsessive-compulsive linking to other web pages that substitutes for actual content. People get that instinctually. And by “people” I mean “geeks under 30.”

Stop. One more thing. The blogosphere runs on irony. The fact that I’m starting a blog by complaining about blogs is not just in the spirt of blogging, it’s cliché.

So here we are.

If the rest of my website is a sandbox, then this is the 6-foot radius around the sandbox in the backyard where sand and dirt become a nameless third substance and Matchbox cars go to die. 

So, for my next post—which you’ve already read, if you’re following this blog in the standard, reverse-chronological order—is a one-act play about how George W. is the antichrist.