When I think about why I started Feminist Fiction over five years ago (whaaaat?), I always think back to one specific moment in Doctor Who. I started working on the blog in earnest because I was infuriated by the way the media was talking about the new Hunger Games movie, but when I think of why I kept writing, I remember the end of Season 2 of Doctor Who, when Rose left. I was 17 when that aired, and something about that episode crushed me. I didn't have the words to explain why I was so upset, but it left something painful inside me, something beyond this idea of "oh this ending is sad." I didn't really know what it was, and I grappled, in fandom spaces, to figure out why I felt that way. Now I know that this was one of my first instances of feeling that a show I loved had betrayed me, making the female protagonist agentless, powerless, left sobbing on a beach with no control over the situation or say in what happened. But at the time, I couldn't figure out why that upset me so much. I just knew that it did.
So now I write about those things. I write to figure out my own feelings about complicated issues regarding narrative and representation, and I write because there might be someone else out there grappling with the same sorts of problems, feeling that something is wrong, but unable to express exactly why. Other people's critiques of feminism and fandom shaped me in a lot of ways, back in the days when social justice and fandom weren't automatically intertwined, and although I'd never assume I was that influential on anybody, I hope that occasionally some people find my thoughts helpful, whether it's expressing something they agree with, or saying something they disagree with so vehemently that my totally objectionable words help bring their thoughts into focus.
Which brings me to blogging here, and a helpful conversation I recently had with a friend. I really enjoying doing "blogmas," writing a blog post every day in December running up to Christmas on whatever happened to be on my mind that day. Casual thoughts about movies or books, some Youtube recs, some life stuff. Anxiety and writing and perfectionism and Disney. One thing that was great about it was how freeing it was. I'm fine writing on Feminist Fiction, but I second guess myself a lot when it comes to this blog. I have 50 drafts of posts that never went up. 50. That's almost as many as I actually have posted.
Because, beyond thinking about writing quality, I'm always wondering... what is the point of this post? What benefit does posting it bring? What is it really even about? Factual topics don't suit my writing style as much as more musing or analytical things, but surely factual posts, or even the ever-present internet "listicle," are more useful to readers. They have more utility, and that's what this is about, right? Utility. Purpose.
But it took thinking about the real purpose behind Feminist Fiction to understand what I really want to do with blogging, the thing that I always end up second guessing, because it doesn't have enough purpose, because it's too navel-gaze-y. I want to be navel gaze-y. I want to write blog posts that are open and musing about, well, life. About things that happen in the news and about books and games I come across, but also about those tricky other things, like dealing with anxiety and figuring out who you are and who you want to be.
I like to blog because it helps me figure out what I think about these things. And I like that there's always a chance, even if it's a slim one, that someone will come across the post and have it help them figure out their own feelings. Help them see a way forward or feel less alone with their problems. I'm a huge fan of chatty Youtube, the kind of video blogging that doesn't have much purpose beyond someone reflecting on things. It makes me feel calm and connected, and often leads me to think about things in unexpected ways. And that is the purpose of this blog too. To muse, to think, to clarify, and hopefully to connect.
So, this is all a very, very long way of saying that I'm reinstating Blogmas. Not exactly Blogmas, because I'm not going to be blogging every single day until Christmas. But semi-blogmas. Blogging every day that I don't have a particularly good reason not to blog. In fact, my goal is to blog 300 days in the rest of 2017, which leaves 21 days off, assuming I don't get weak and invoke the blog posts I wrote before this point. Is it ambitious? Yup. Will I last a week and then fail? Possibly. But that's my goal.
Keep your fingers crossed for me, and come back tomorrow for some more nerdy, navel-gaze-y fun. Confessions of an anxious author. Or something like that. :P