Tonight I attended the first in a series of group readings, part of “The Memoir Project” at The Arts Center of the Capital Region in Troy, NY. Memoirs are tremendously “in” right now, and this series features classes and workshops as well as readings. By and large, the evening was engrossing, but a large part of the appeal lay in seeing and hearing the writers live. I doubt I’d ever seek out their work in book form, and in fact I rarely read memoirs at all.
The evening got me thinking – how much do we really care to know about the details of others’ lives? It’s a question pertinent to blogging as well. Why on earth should anyone want to read about the minutiae of someone else’s existence? To make it worth the reader’s time and effort, we need to strike a common chord that transcends self-centered blather. Therein lies the challenge of daily blogging.
It’s even more challenging to blog at 11 p.m. when I’m sleepy and my two cats want their bedtime snack. Unfortunately my office also serves as their bedroom (and litter box room). Sometimes we share the space equitably, but when they’re restless or hungry they writhe around on my desk, claws extended, soliciting tummy rubs. Right now they’re telling me it’s time to sign off.
I view blogging as a form of communal memoir grounded in the here and now. Any thoughts on this?