I’ve got blog phobia. I want more than anything to write a blog about my airbnb guests, but I watch myself not doing it. I regale my friends with stories about my guests. Even my Airbnb guests love hearing about my other Airbnb guests. You should write a blog, my friends say. Don’t keep all these stories to yourself. I tell myself the same thing. All the time. But whenever I take up the task in earnest, that pesky editor pops up on my shoulder and starts nagging, so I never get anywhere.
I’ve taken private notes about some of my guests, but I’ve neglected others, and I want to remember them all. Writing a blog would enable me to do that. I need to plunge in and put those notes on-line. A writer-friend of mine, encouraging me to take to plunge, wonders what I am worried about. “A blog is a great place to cure yourself of writer’s block,” she says. “Nobody is even going to know about it, unless you spread the word.
One thing I worry about is the privacy issue, as all non-fiction writers do, but I’m not going to let that bother me anymore. And wouldn’t William Loizeaux, who stayed with me last night, love for people to know about his new novel, The Tumble Inn? I would actually be performing a service!
Bill came from Boston with his wife to do a reading at RiverRead Books. It was fun to have a writer staying here. “You’ve got books on your shelf that I teach,” he said in surprise. I told him how I had gotten an MFA in creative nonfiction at Stonecoast and dreamed about having a writing life, but how my community work, another passion, had gotten in the way. So then we started talking about the work I do in the neighborhood, which often happens. It is a fascinating subject in this changing world of ours. It’s another subject I’d like to write about. Perhaps this blog will lead the way.
But for now I am going to curl up on the couch on this dull, chilly day, Einstein at my feet, and get started on The Tumble Inn, a copy of which Bill generously left for me. I love Airbnb.