This fall marks 15 years for me of writing online.
I started with a hand-coded "journal" on my university's free web hosting space, then quickly graduated to a pop culture zine with my buddy Brian. That was Pop-Culture-Corn, then Entertainment Geekly, and All The Rage, and On The Jazz, and Alert Nerd, and past incarnations of Pop Geek. Diaryland, Blogger, Wordpress, Posterous, Tumblr--I've done them all.
Time is strange online; everything is so focused on the immediate that years seem to pass in an instant. You write here and there, and tens of thousands of words stack up, many of them virtually unseen by anyone but you. You collect friends like happy barnacles and attach to lives through Twitter, Facebook, email. One day you wake up and there's friends you've known for ten years, and you've seen them in person once, but there's a connection that endures.
I've always loved writing, and I've always loved writing online. This seemed like a good time to refocus on that, and find a way to recommit again, in spite of being a real grown-up with diapers and line items and unwashed dishes with little time for blather.
In some ways, this is almost where I'm most comfortable--in front of a keyboard, pecking away at something until it takes a full shape, and then clicking that button that puts it out in the world. I love to do it, I want to do it, so I'm gonna do it.
Until I inevitably fall behind on everything, and abandon this site to the digital dustbin. It's just a matter of when.